Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. All original characters and situations belong to me. The song lyrics used throughout 'Black Letter Days' are from You can still be Free by Savage Garden from their CD Affirmation.

Act Five: Seen you around, that fallen angel beauty. Maybe I need you to save me. Or maybe I've solved the mystery, while everyone's still confused.

Author's Notes: Well, this is it. The ride's over, this train has reached its destination. I'm feeling a bit sad actually, it's been great fun writing this and I've never finished a series before. The ending really isn't much of a stretch for the imagination...I wasn't too subtle with the hints throughout. The idea was never to keep you guessing about the outcome, but just to...entertain. Please let me have managed that meagre task. ^.~
soupofthedaysara: Yeah, praise is the opium of the soul. Intoxicating, addictive and leaves you delirious. *grins* A measly sleeping pill could never fell the great Blaise...*watches Blaise topple over* Oops. ^.- jen beckett: *muah* I loff you. Shadow: Calm before the storm I guess. Blaise is always slightly...more sedate during the day, a bit more steady. And she has an idea of what's going to happen, a bit more control, a bit more clarity. This is all going to end soon...I just wanted to flesh out her character quickly, before it was over. And I'm pleased as punch to have inspired you. ^.~ Peeler: Ook! Thank you! *schungs* Yes, I do post at FA, however, I'm still waiting for this to go up there. Hopefully in the future, you'll see it about. And thanks for the suggestion, but this piece was already plotted, lyrics and all. ^.-
I've got my heart on my sleeve...don't hurt my baby. ^.- Sugar plums, blueberries and tiramisu for those who review!

Warning: Please keep an open mind throughout...none of this was written to offend, blaspheme or insult. Keep in mind that a lot of this is from Blaise's POV and some opinions are not necessarily the author's own. Thank you.

ACT FIVE – LIBERATION

sail through the wind and rain tonight

you're free to fly tonight

She could hear the voices soaring around her; see the feathered wings spread out, golden halos glistening. No one else could see them though; they continued to dance in blissful rapture, unaware. But she saw them and she knew what they meant. Instead of the pounding music and the soul-tearing riff on the guitar she heard a promise.

The nightclub was called Angel Sanctuary, and ladies drinks were free tonight.

She hadn't been here yet (there's more of L.A to see, love) but it was the same drill. Poor boys throwing up in the corner, couples (more or less) copulating for others voyeuristic pleasure. Drinks, drugs and dancing, a high promised to lift you straight to the pearly gates, propel you in and land you a place among the Seraphim. Only it never worked.

Blaise knocked back a gin and tonic, and then a mineral water with a twist of lime. Staying sane tonight, she had plans. Until the clock ticked midnight, she'd let the good times roll around her, absorbing it in. Call it her goodnight round, watching the pattern of deterioration spell itself out for her. One more memory to lock up in her little steel box, an extra coin for her piggy bank, and then it would be over. She was going home, going where she belonged.

No more pretty smiles, no more willing victims to the viper's nest, no more getting pissed for the dawn of light, she sat on her stool, content to watch. Dance for me one last time. She watched the young girls shimmy, laughed at them. She knew all their moves, had walked in their four-inch fuck-me shoes for ten miles. The crowded dance floor spun her an invitation and she declined politely. Older and wiser now, 'twas time to turn in her dancing shoes and buy herself place in a retirement home. Not that she'd need it.

Blonde hair, bronze highlights and deftly flushed cheeks caught her eye across the crowd. The boy from yesterday, Ganymede. He was watching her, kingfisher blue eyes mournful, a secret on his lips.

So fate was dealing her the same card again, another chance, something to hold onto, a buoy in choppy seas. Maybe a lifejacket that could stop her drowning, release her from the undertow. You rolled the dice and got a seven, do you want to play?

She wanted to walk over and speak to him, kiss him, ask him questions that burned her tongue, seduce him. So young, she'd make him hers.

Ahh…temptations.

But she didn't. Midnight hit the clock on the wall; she leapt up, threw on her jacket and was out the door.

Sorry kid, maybe another day. You look like you know how to find me. Understand, I've got places to go, an appointment that just aint gonna wait.

Maybe he did know, because when she turned back for a last look, a silent farewell, he was gone from the seat in the corner, his chair empty.

and going higher than mountain tops

and go high the wind won't stop

and go high

She hopped in a compact little BMW, painted black with leather seats (their owner's going to miss it) and gunned the engine. Learnt to drive a couple years ago, her secret from her Death Eater pals. (You share souls, but not lives.) Up onto the highway, along the fairy light strung roads until she arrived. She knew where she was going, always had. The Palos Verdes peninsula, a lovely scenic spot where the ocean smashed against the cliffs.

She got out of the car, breathing in a mouthful of salt air; pungent enough swallow the city scents.

Blaise walked towards the edge and stared out at the churning water, obsidian black waves thrashing like a turbulent nightmare. An overcast sky, moon and stars kidnapped by a mob of gangster clouds, stolen for tonight. The tide raged in, pulled towards her magnetically.Sharp wind swept back her hair and everything fell into place.

Wind.

Water.

Peace.

The city of London was burning, burning. The inhabitants trapped between flame and debris. Her brother was burning, in life and hell. Her family was burning, fiancé was burning, memories were burning, fires that could never be extinguished. She was burning too, sulphur and brimstone gnawing away at her.

So this was it. Her roller coaster ride was coming to a halt. Get off, walk a couple steps, topple over on unsteady feet. This was what was waiting for her.

Nothing more than a watery grave, a last ditch effort to be profound. Well, she'd met her Waterloo long ago, what was there left to kill anyway? An empty shell, a broken doll. Shattered china can never be the same, even if you put it back together with glue the cracks will still remain. Now she'd found her fountain of knowledge, waters of wisdom. God be fucked, this was it.

Let London keep burning. Let her keep burning. Like a phoenix she'd explode across the sky in fireworks and ashes. She'd crash to earth like a meteorite, a memory of the distant past, the unknowable, the uncontainable. There was no end, no cure, and no fucking doctors for this disease. The world was rotting from the core and it was over. The Messiah had come and someone shot him with a Desert Eagle because they thought he was an Arab terrorist.

Jesus died in vain. She was going to prove it.

She jumped.

Into the frigid air, too thin to hold anything more than a feather. Into the night because darkness was her home. For a minute she glided on the wind, whipped up like thistledown. And she was going higher. Higher and higher, soaring through the inky heavens. There was a crashing crescendo but she couldn't hear it, straining to see the stars and when she found them she fell back to earth.

And then the boiling waters received her torn body, the rocks buried her deep.

keep moving way up high

you see the light

it shines forever

When they found her body the next day, she was in leather pumps, a red cocktail dress wrapped around her like kelp and large hoop earrings, a half smile on her lips and eyes that stared. As though they could see. As though did see.

See the light.

but you can still be free

if time will set you free

free to fly tonight