"Mr. Zabini, your gift seems more and more elaborated each day! Wonderful how you foresaw my nice little homework for next lesson! Impressive! Please, take ten points for Slytherin!" Trelawney's soft voice and her cold hand on his shoulder ripped him out of his thoughts, out of his pain. "I'm sorry, professor, I'm afraid I didn't understand you correctly" was the only thing he could say, confused as he was. She, with a wide movement of her thin arms, exclaimed: "Mr. Zabini, don't be so modest! You anticipated that my homework would be to get into the mind of the person whose destiny you have on these celestial charts! I wish you to be able to empathize with your future clients, in case you want to become a professional at Divination. Unfortunately" and now, her whole body seemed to express pity, "I see only few of you who have the gift! You, Mr Zabini", a wide, cordial smile, "might want to consider this. Really, truly impressive. Class dismissed!"

She seemed so happy about his so-called gift that she gave them more than an hour of free time during which they played Exploding Snap or Wizard Chess. Blaise was still rather dazzled – a professional at Divination! Hell, no! – He lost each and every game he played. After being walked over during the second turn of Exploding Snap despite his good cards, he quit the game and left the Common Room, followed by some curious glances. He wandered through the empty corridors (sorry I didn't find a better word -.-), trying desperately not to think too much. He succeeded less than fifteen minutes – he had arrived in front of the Transfiguration room. Letting himself fall down on the ground, he opened his mind to properly think about everything that had happened – in this bed and in his heart.

Sighing, he pulled out of his backpack another sheet of paper and scribbled:
1)We had sex. Draco fucked the hell out of me.
2) It was the best night ever. Surely also compared to those I can't remember.
His attempt to analyze his situation gave him the possibility to look calmly at everything and he grinned. He had passed several nights with no further memory and, believing the stories he had been told later, he had also lost his virginity during one of these nights. At least the 'normal' virginity.
3) He used it as a test. He passed. I failed.
His heart wished so much that Draco's words were a lie, that at least also the ice prince felt something like desire towards him. Still, he couldn't help but believe what Draco had said before. He had used him to show – to whom? – that he could seduce everyone, that his reputation was nothing but the truth.
4) This night doesn't matter to him anymore. It never has!!!
The first teardrop wetted the sheet, obliterating "never". Blaise clenched his hands to fists, fighting for the last bit of self-control he could find. Sarcastically, he wrote down:
5) It obviously does matter to me.
An ugly blot now decorated this note as he had gripped the pen too hard – now he held two pieces in his hand. "Reparo" he sighed and, with a nonchalant movement of his wand (about which Professor Flitwick definitely would have started to cry), he fixed the broken pen. "Stupid muggle stuff, it's as useless as me. When the situation gets a bit tricky, it breaks!" His frustration turned him into the silly little boy he had been with seven years.

- Flashback –

The beautiful lady dragged her sobbing son through the wintry streets of the Knockturn Alley. Her hair, as black as his ringlets, shimmered softly under the pale sun. Everybody stared at her, but not because of her crying child, no. She was absolutely dazzling, no doubt. Although her skin had the typical dark olive skin of the Mediterranean people, she was pale, with a cool charisma. Now, she appeared to be annoyed, her dark brown eyes seemed as if they wanted to prove that looks could kill. The reason for her anger? An absolutely adorable little boy clinging to her hand who sobbed in a disturbingly high tone. His mother obviously had lost her nerves and decided to change her method. She let go of her son and accelerated her steps, leaving the little one exactly where he was as he was too hysterical to do any further move without her. His moaning grew even louder and he reached out for her arms.
"Oh come on, Blaise. Aren't you a bit too old to behave like this? I thought I had a strong son, more a man than a baby boy!" Her eyes grew soft when she turned around and opened her arms. The boy tried to suppress his sobbing and hurried to reach her side again. She kneeled down and hugged him tightly, whispering into his ear: "I told you I had to buy something for your father and then we'd go to have some ice cream at Fortescue's!" "But Mommy, I don't like it here! Let's go somewhere else, please! Can't you buy daddy's things in the Diagon Alley?" The woman had to fight hard not to laugh as she looked into his begging grey eyes but to keep her severity. "Blaise, basta piangere! You don't want your father to hear this!"
Of course he didn't. His father was the person he admired most – and whose anger he feared more than anything else. He didn't want to disappoint him. Thus, he suppressed his fear and silently followed his mother through the dark alley.

– END OF FLASHBACK –

This ridiculous fear of Knockturn Alley had not left him until the age of fifteen. At this time, he had spent complete nights on graveyards and other dark places and also done a midnight shopping tour at this place. During his rebellious years had disappointed his father way more often than necessary just because he had felt the need to do so. His father's anger had lost a lot of its power ever since the day an extremely venomous snake had bitten his neck. Only with an incredible effort, the Healers had been able to save his life – but ever since, he lived a rather deprived existence in a wheelchair. Blaise had had great fun scoffing at this man he secretly loved still. He had been silly at the age of seven, at the age of fifteen and he might still be silly with 80 years.
6) It's stupid to fall in love. That's exactly why I did it. I've been created to commit stupidities.
7) It's masochistic to fall in love with a Malfoy because they only love power. They would betray friends and foes if it served them anything.
8) Draco nothing but used me. And I would always offer myself again to be his servant.
It fitted him well to do something masochistic. He had always been into movies like Titanic or books like Pride and Prejudice, just because of their tragedies. He had even cried at the end of "Romeo and Juliet". Silently, far away from others.
9) I've always been too girly to be a man. Of course I must be gay.

A wave of despair and self-pity washed through him. He felt lost, lonely and worthless. But he didn't want to drown in these feelings. Just like at the age of seven, he suppressed his fears and helplessness and started writing again:

You cracked me like a nut
To suck my heart and chew and spit it out
You leave me cracked up
Defenceless, nameless and without a doubt
You knew exactly what
(You'd cause if you don't stop)
What did you gain except the certainty
So what did you get out
Of knowing you can make a fool of me
(I could have told you before)

10) It hurts like hell.