Author's Notes- I love writing this even if it hasn't attracted huge amounts of attention. Again, reviews are really appreciated, they're the only thing that keeps me writing sometimes. This chapter isn't the end, by any means in case you're wondering.
Oh, and as far as drawing Blaise goes, I did try and failed utterly. I sort of based him on a mixture of people, but he's probably closest to Richey Edwards with longer hair. And probably even more effeminate. Have some Richey-goodness?
http://talek.pixie.nu/main/04/richey.html
http://www.self-injury.net/doyousi/famous/richeyedwards/
I didn't speak to Blaise for the next few Potions lessons. I was happy to watch and adore from a distance. My friends seemed to notice I was growing rather distant. Obsession is a dangerous thing indeed and I wondered if I'd get sucked into those empty dark eyes one day, and forget to come back out. He still didn't know I was alive, but I felt I was beginning to know Blaise. Just from watching his little mannerisms in class and from following him at night. Every night he invariably slipped from the common room and I'd see him enter a classroom on some quiet floor followed by some older student I barely knew.
It feels so perverted but.. I was always tempted to follow them in there. It was the closest I'd ever get to Blaise and it wasn't like he seemed to have much pride anyway. How would I proposition him, inexperienced virgin I still was? Sometimes when the other student left first, I'd slip in and watch Blaise sit there in the abandoned room. He liked to smoke and he looked unearthly wreathed in plumes of grey smoke with a cigarette dangling loosely between his fingers, the nails painted a chipped, shiny black. He always looked reflective after these night activities. I tried to look into his eyes to see if there was any lingering sadness or insecurity (why else would he give himself away so easily?) and always there was the same blankness. Like he didn't care about anything that had just passed. It scared me, and it fascinated me at the same time. The weeks went on.
- - - - - - -
And then Christmas drew closer. The world outside froze and died. I found a unicorn by the shores of the lake one day. It looked even more beautiful dead. The ice had frozen its mane into solid glass whorls and even glazed over the empty dark eyes. Hagrid cried when he found me stood by it and his tears had frozen too, by the time we walked back to his cabin. Lavender killed herself two days later. We never found out why she did it, but she simply waded into the lake, breaking the ice before herself with her wand. It formed almost as quickly behind her. By the time the waters closed over her head, the hypothermia would have already began creeping through her and shutting down her internal workings. The professors stopped lessons for two days. Malfoy stopped smirking so much. Snape actually bit his lip and said nothing when Neville melted away most of his own robes in class one day. Then the preparations for the Christmas Dance took over. I saw Ron kissing Hermione but refrained from teasing them. They'd tell me when they were ready. I lost my virginity to Ginny one beautiful winter's night, sinking into her cinnamon-scented embrace with a sense of coming home. Blaise began to fade into the distance. Life went on.