One week had passed since she had walked out of that classroom, leaving him alone.
Nine days, to be exact. Blaise didn't mean to, but she would come to mind often throughout the day, while he was working in class or while he was practicing Quidditch on the pitch or when he was sitting in one of the lavish armchairs in the Slytherin common room, the flames of the fireplace illuminating and casting shadows on his face while he was lost in thought, something that would happen much more often lately.
"C'mon now!" Theodore shouted, slapping Blaise on the back of his shoulder as he sat down beside him at the long wooden table in the Great Hall. "Eat, mate. I know you're worried about your figure, but you're going to wither away to nothing. And I've told you before, Blaise, you're beautiful just the way you ar-"
"And I've told you," Blaise replied dully, pushing around the food on his plate without actually eating anything. "I haven't got an appetite at the moment. I don't feel well. Now sod off."
"Well excuse me," Theodore said sarcastically, holding up as his hands after taking a bite of a sausage.
"Does this mean you won't be attending the Slug Club tonight?" Draco asked, sitting on the other side of the table from the two boys. He and Theodore shared a cold laugh, the usual when the topic came up.
Blaise let out a scoff, turning slightly to look at his friend and glaring up at the silver-haired boy across from him.
"You're both still sore about not being invited then," he responded, smirking.
"His loss," Theodore said nonchalantly, popping a strawberry into his mouth.
"Besides," Draco agreed, "who wants to be at a party thrown by an old bat like Slughorn?"
"Whatever you say," Blaise replied. Taking a final look at his plate, he frowned at the breakfast, dropping his fork. "I'll see you blokes later."
With that, the Slytherin boy stood, leaving the Great Hall.
Staring after him, Blaise's two housemates furrowed their brows.
"He's been even more brooding and grumpy than usual lately," Theodore commented. "One of you, I can handle. But two drama queens? I might just go mad. Soon I'll be the only one left around here who still knows how to smile."
"Shut up," Draco told the boy, scowling at him. Theodore smiled at him with a sigh.
"Oh, the teenage years," he said, shaking his head. "What a difficult, misunderstood time."
Dodging a pea that the blonde boy had aimed at his head, Theodore laughed, Draco smirking lightly at his friend's banter.
Blaise walked alone down the hallway, his face stony and his eyes far away. The past week, he had been fine, or at least he had been able to look it on the outside, keeping himself distracted and not thinking about… her. But today, it was bad. Slughorn's Christmas Party was that night, and only a few days ago, before it had all gone to hell, he had thought he would be dancing with her.
It was amazing though, on the outside, how nothing seemed different. He went to class everyday, had Quidditch practice afterwards, would be with his closest friends in the world almost constantly, and no one had an inkling of how he was unintentionally counting the days since he had spoken with her. Of course his friends didn't know though. They knew nothing because he revealed nothing to anyone, especially not them. It was laughable how much telling them the real reason why he couldn't eat was a bad idea. It was not even an option. And later that night, he would have to see that reason -the cause of all his distraction -and face her. Closing his eyes, Blaise ran his hand over his face and braced himself for the day.
Looking straight ahead, Elpis walked through the stone hallways, the only sound being her heels clicking against the ground. Gradually, music became audible, and as she got closer to the dungeons, a light brighter than just the torches on the walls became visible. Taking a deep breath, she paused just out of the line of sight of the doors to the room where Professor Slughorn was hosting his Christmas party. And she stepped in.
Taking in the small celebration before her, she actually smiled. It was a happy sight, truly. The cheerful instrumental music hit her fully, and the bright, clean furniture gleamed in the golden light that bathed the room. Letting out a slow, silent breath, Elpis scanned the room instinctively. Immediately, she noticed Blaise, her eyes flashing to the tall boy as if they were magnetized to him. Forcing herself to turn away before he saw her, she analyzed her options and decided to greet her housemate by the fireplace.
"Hello, Luna," Elpis said, a friendly smile on her face.
"Oh, hello there, Elpis," the dreamy blonde said, her silver, protuberant eyes staring unblinkingly, as always. It used to unsettle her, but Elpis had grown used to them after nearly 6 years of knowing the girl. Luna was one of the first people to speak to her at Hogwarts, and for a long time, she was the only one who seemed to remember her over long periods of time. Even if they didn't talk all the time like some other pairs of girls at their school, she was a dear friend of Elpis', and she knew she could trust Luna with anything.
"You look lovely tonight," Elpis told her fellow Ravenclaw. "I like your radishes."
"Thank you," Luna replied, smiling softly as she reached up and touched one of her earrings. "I like them, too."
Grinning at her peculiarity, Elpis nodded.
"Your dress is quite nice," Luna told her. "Is it another one by your mother?"
Luna was the only student at Hogwarts who Elpis had ever discussed her home life with, and so she knew her mother's profession.
"Yes, actually," she answered proudly, holding out the dress by its hem and turning her hips playfully.
From across the room, Blaise watched Elpis inconspicuously. He saw her twirl in her silvery blue dress -which she looked wonderful in -and saw her smile, and though he couldn't hear it from across the room, he knew she was laughing, recalling the small titter of a chuckle that he knew well. He remembered sitting beside her, hearing and seeing her laugh, and wishing she would really just let go and laugh out loud, the kind of laughter that he just knew would be intoxicating coming from her. She was talking to Luna, he noted, letting out an impatient sigh. Blaise wanted to go up to her, but that Lovegood girl always made him uncomfortable. Also, he was sure Elpis would reserve no clemency towards him for interrupting her conversation. He waited, drinking the sparkling, fizzy drink that the Longbottom boy had offered him on a silver platter, and just as Luna walked away from the girl he yearned so desperately just to talk to, Blaise taking a step forward, he somehow found himself staring at Cormac McLaggen leaning against the mantle of the fireplace, a smirk on his face as he looked Elpis up and down that made Blaise want to properly do him in.
He continued to watch for a brief while, finding a small reserve of pleasure from the look of distaste on Elpis' face as she spoke with McLaggen, or rather while he talked and she listened. Before Blaise could do anything though, Professor Slughorn called all of the party attendees to the circular table where their dinner was waiting for them. Soon, after a long period of Slughorn monologuing and polite chatter around the table, their potions master began the more formal portion of their dinner, the moment where it was decided whether you were valuable enough to make it into the Slug Club or not.
Much to his displeasure, Slughorn questioned Blaise about his mother; she had recently been featured in some magazine as one of the wealthiest witches of the decade, and Blaise hated people bringing up his mother. Her line of deceased husbands was controversial, he knew, but she was a strong women with her reasons, and Blaise had grown tired of defending her. So he kept his answers as short as could pass for polite and beared through the inquisition. McLaggen spoke about his bloody uncle, boasting about hunting with the Minister of Magic, and Belby, stuffing his gob with dessert, could barely get out two words in between his bites. Granger spoke about her muggle parents and some horrendous job where they stuck their hands in children's mouths for a living, and then Blaise heard the words that made him actually pay attention for the first time all dinner.
"And what about you, Miss Gadeziento?"
Everyone -besides Marcus Belby, drowning in his food -turned their eyes to Elpis, and Blaise knew she dislike it, but she was a perfectly charming, as always when in the eyes of the public. A perfect actress, what with her gentle, disarming smile and warm eyes. She looked so innocent.
'What a devilish little minx,' Blaise thought, a smirk coming to his face. She was so clever, always knowing how to work a room. A modern survivalist.
"Nothing too glamorous," she said politely. "My mother's a seamstress. She actually made the dress that I'm wearing tonight."
"And what a lovely dress it is," Professor Slughorn has joyfully. "Now, exactly where from American are you, my dear?"
"Ironically, I live in New England," Elpis replied. "My father is from Spain though, and it just works out that I have dual residency here in Europe, so I decided to attend Hogwarts instead of the Salem Witches' Institute in Massachusetts, and I've never regretted my decision."
"Fascinating, fascinating. And I do say, lucky us!" Slughorn replied with a laugh. "More talent for us here in England."
Though Blaise watched her the whole time, looking for any fidget in her shoulders or falter in her watchful eyes, he caught none. He also noted, with a slight furrow of his brow, that Elpis was doing a perfect job of avoiding his gaze, not once looking at him.
"And your father's profession?" Professor Slughorn prompted her curiously. If Elpis' father did in fact have a prestigious career, Blaise thought, she was almost certain to pass Slughorn's test, even if her high marks weren't enough reason to claim her as part of his collection.
"A doctor," she said simply, looking down at her dessert. "My father is a doctor."
"Ooh, how very exciting," Slughorn replied with a grin, clapping his hands. "Where did you father complete his studies? I know Madame Pomfrey attended-"
"No," Elpis interrupted, surprising everyone at the table. "My father's not a wizard."
"Oh," Professor Slughorn said politely. "My apologies. It must be your mother, then, who is a witch-"
"No," Elpis answered, shaking her head softly with a patient smile. "Both my parents are muggles, though you could argue that what my mother can do with a needle and thread is quite magical..."
The students sitting at the round table all laughed politely, but Blaise didn't notice. He had stopped listening after the word "muggles," the noise around him fading as he stared at Elpis from across the table, his face unreadable. For the first time that night, she looked at him. Elpis met his eyes, blinking once, and for a moment her smile faded, but in an instance she was chuckling again, grinning at Professor Slughorn. Blaise blinked, returning to reality, and could hear the words being exchanged again.
"My apologies," the jolly old man said. "I was under the impression that you were wizard-born. I suppose it only goes to show that muggle-born witches lack absolutely nothing. One of my best students, I do say."
"Thank you," Elpis said kindly, looking down at her food.
As Professor Slughorn moved the conversation to another student, Blaise watched her, noticing the smile falling off her face, being replaced by a tired and worn expression. He frowned, wishing he go to her, but he was trapped at the dinner table, just as she was. Soon thereafter, dinner came to an end, and while many of the students lingered in the room, saying goodbyes and thanking Professor Slughorn for the night, Blaise immediately made his way to the door, following where he had seen Elpis leave.
Exiting the room, he caught the sight of her turning a corner just in time, right before her dress disappeared from his view. At first he was taking long strides, but Blaise soon broke out into a run, chasing after her down the long, stone corridor.
"Elpis!" he shouted, skidding to a halt as he turned the corner. He took a deep breath, his chest tight, but it wasn't from running.
Looking at her there, the moonlight pouring in through a high window, was torture. Her silvery blue dress, reflecting the light from the night sky, stopped just above her knees, falling in ruffles from her waist, and its sleeves fell gracefully from her shoulders, revealing her smooth, caramel skin. Her long, dark curls fell perfectly down her back, and as she turned, several yards in between the two of them, her placid face reminded Blaise of a venerable young goddess.
"You look beautiful tonight," he said phlegmatically. She raised an eyebrow at him, the rest of her face unchanging.
"Is that what you came all this way to tell me?" she asked, unimpressed. After a moment of silence, her apparent regret for speaking so harshly visible on her face, Elpis added more gently, "You look handsome tonight, too."
After swallowing with his dry throat, a slight smile came to the tall boy's face.
"So, you're muggle-born. I get it now," he told her. "I get why..."
He didn't know how to finish that. Why she rejected him? No, that sounded pathetic. Why she was so closed off to relationships? No, that sounded pretentious.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked finally. Elpis let out a cold laugh, shaking her head and turning around, her back to him.
"See, that's my problem!" she responded. "You make it sound like it's some dirty secret. Like it's something to confess."
"You're the one who kept it from me!" Blaise shouted back, stepping towards her. She turned around and faced him again, her shoulders back and her hard face fearless. In her heels, she was taller than usual, her forehead reaching his nose.
"Because it is something to hide nowadays," she said. "I wish it wasn't but it is."
They stood there, only a few inches in between their faces, and didn't speak for a long moment.
"Your fantasy doesn't work out so well with a mudblood, does it?" Elpis mused cruelly, her words almost a whisper. Blaise clenched his jaw, a small crease forming in his brow.
"Don't call yourself that," he told her, looking down into her dark eyes. A cold smirk formed on her lips, but he saw the sadness in her eyes.
"Why not?" she challenged firmly. "All your friends would. Your family would. You would. You already do. You call Hermione Granger a mudblood. And there's no difference between her and I. The fact is that you were born with a fucking silver spoon, Blaise! A silver and green spoon, actually. You're practically pure-blood royalty, for God's sake. You don't have to worry about anything in life. But I do, and I have to take care of myself, because nobody else will."
Taking a deep breath, Blaise furrowed his brow.
"I would never call you a mudblood," he affirmed, his hands balled into fists at his sides. "I don't use that word. My mother raised me better than that. And you know, for someone who's preaching so much about not judging, you have this nasty habit of judging me to be my friends. I am not them."
His last sentence was so sharp that Elpis flinched. Sighing, he relaxed his hands, taking a step back.
"It just seems hypocritical of you to hate me for my upbringing when you're condemning me for that exact reason."
Elpis shook her head slowly, looking down at the ground.
"I don't -I don't hate you, Blaise. I just don't want to dig my own grave."
Blaise was taken aback at her words.
"I would never hurt you, Elpis." he said gently. She furrowed her brow, a crestfallen frown turning the corners of her lips down ever so slightly.
"I know that," she replied quietly. "But you wouldn't be the one to hurt me. We're kinda living in messed up times here."
"I know he puts on a tough show," Blaise argued, "but Draco would never dare to touch you. And Theodore's harmless. I know they can be bigots, but-"
"They why are you friends with them?" Elpis asked. "You say you're different from them, but you don't bat an eyelash at the things they do."
"You know I'm not like that," he responded quietly as he stepped forward, lightly touching her cheek. "You know me, Elpis, that I'm not the terrible person people say I am. Things didn't used to be like this. I've known them since we were all a day old. They're like family to me. They didn't use to be like this, either. But they don't matter in this anyway. I've told you before, I don't care what they think. And I would never let them hurt you-"
"I wouldn't be the only one who gets hurt in this," she begged him to understand, pushing his hand away from her. "How do you not see that! Nothing good could come out of this."
"What about -Oh, I don't know -us being happy together?" Blaise queried incredulously. "I enjoy being with you, Elpis. And I know it absolutely infuriates you to admit it, but you enjoy being with me, too! Isn't that enough?"
"It infuriates me," she replied, nearly shouting now, "because I wish that was enough! I wish Draco and Theodore were the only people I had to worry about. But they're not. Bad things are happening, Blaise. Things are starting to get bad out there again. And I think I would rather have you be safe than temporarily happy. You'll get over me, okay? I know you can do that."
"I don't want to," Blaise said simply, staring at her defiantly.
"You'll be fine," Elpis assured him gently. "You just don't-"
She stopped, her words getting stuck in her throat. Swallowing, her throat sore with the threat of tears, she forced herself to stay calm.
"You're lucky, Blaise. You don't know fear," she said evenly. "You shouldn't push that luck."
'I know fear,' he pleaded in his head, his heart quickening in his chest. 'The fear of losing you.'
"Please," was all he could say, furrowing his brow.
Slowly stepping back, Elpis smiled weakly at him.
"Goodnight, Blaise," she whispered, her voice heartbreakingly final. It sounded awfully like Goodbye to him.
Unable to bring himself to say anything more to her, the only thing he could do was watch her as she turned, walking away from him. His eyes stayed on her until the moment she disappeared from his view, and then she was gone.
Letting out the breath Blaise didn't realize he had been holding, a heavy stone settled in his chest, and for the first time in his life, he wished he was someone very far from whom he had been born as.