Edited 20th February 2014 to remove review responses and superfluous author's notes.

Since the chapter's called "Inevitability", you can't complain if you think it's too predictable. That's how these things work, right?

14. Inevitability

The day dawned sluggishly, as if the sun had heard what atrocities were to be committed beneath it in the coming hours. Blaise had long ago given up on any attempt to sleep, and was sitting in an armchair in front of the dying fire, sipping cautiously on his fifth cup of coffee. He was on edge, for all he looked relaxed; he was certain that at any moment someone would attack him and the battle would begin. He had no illusions as to what this conflict was going to be. He didn't expect the Dark Lord to come out and fight fair after all this time. It was going to be short, unexpected, undignified and bloody – and that was if they were lucky.

The minutes felt like hours as he sat there, and he was surprised that it was only seven. Actually, he was surprised that no one else was awake. He was half-expecting the forces of darkness to assemble in the Slytherin common room before going on to take over the school. He felt that it was all far too quiet. The day was too normal. Had Draco been misleading them? Could they really trust him to tell the truth about something so important?

There was noise on the stairs. Someone was climbing them, coming closer to Blaise with every step. His body tensed. He felt his pulse begin to race and his eyes widen. It could be anyone, he knew that, but he was scared. If it could be anyone, it could be someone coming to kill him. He wished more than anything for an Invisibility cloak. He was a sitting target for whoever was climbing those stairs.

It was Daniel Fletcher. He looked across the room at his friend and smiled, tightly. "Scare you, Blaise?" he asked, with as much concern as he could muster.

"I thought… it was someone else," said Blaise, shaking with relief at seeing the familiar friendly face and hearing the soothing voice. "I thought that it was starting. I thought that someone was coming to kill me."

Daniel paled at the word "kill". He didn't want to think about it. He knew that pretending it wasn't happening was not an option, but he hated to think of it. Death was coming. There was no way that everyone in the school would get out of this alive. No way on earth would everyone escape. He had a job to do today, and whatever happened at least one person would die, and at his hands. It was a terrible responsibility for him to have to bear.

"They're all still sleeping," he reassured Blaise. I looked in on your dorm; I was worried that you weren't there. They're all fast asleep. The Death Eaters' sons are not the quickest off the mark, it would seem. No; the school is safe for now. For another couple of hours, I'd say, listening to that lot snoring."

He was proved wrong a few minutes later, when a small, dark boy appeared in the common room. He looked a little like Blaise, but his flat, dark blue eyes were filled with a sort of bitter spite that Daniel had never seen in his friend. Theodore Nott looked about, and seemed surprised to see the other two boys there. His eyes narrowed slightly. If Blaise's insomnia was going to ruin everything, he would kill the boy himself.

"What's up, Nott?" Daniel called out. "Where's this attack we've been promised?"

"Wait a while, Fletcher," sneered Nott. "It'll come soon enough, don't you worry. Just wait. They're coming as we speak. Who knows what'll happen when they get here? We just have to wait."

Blaise widened his eyes. Nott was acting strange. As far as he knew, the boy had yet to swear any allegiances in this new war. But there was a nasty cruel light in the dead eyes, and he knew that nothing good would come out of this encounter. He shifted his weight slightly, slipping his hand inside his robes to find his wand.

"What if you were wrong, Nott?" Blaise asked, deliberately taunting the other, to see if he would give anything away. "What if your dad didn't trust you enough with the information? I don't see anything starting here soon, do you?"

Nott bridled at the taunt. "Wrong? I don't think so, Zabini. It starts here, and now, with you!" He drew his wand, an unhealthily enthusiastic light reflecting in his eyes, and began, "Ava-"

Blaise was quicker. In a heartbeat, as soon as he had seen Nott grab at his wand, he had drawn, and before the other boy could send out the Killing Curse he shouted, "Petrificus Totalus!"And Nott fell to the ground in the body bind, harmless, as his wand bounced away across the common room floor.

"And there was I thinking he was neutral," said Daniel, his eyes wide with shock. "I think we should get out, Blaise. If he's up, the rest of them could get here at any time. I don't much fancy our odds. Two against four is a foregone conclusion, I'm afraid."

They left the Slytherin common room as quickly as they could, abandoning the immobile Nott without a backward glance. Both were unsettled. They knew now that it was only a matter of time before they would be fighting desperately for their lives.

It was nearly breakfast time, but the Gryffindor common room was strangely subdued. Ginny had barely slept at all, and by the looks of things neither had Harry. The hero looked dead tired, and she had to wonder whether he would be strong enough to do the things he had to do. She was frightened. She was among the few who knew that if Harry couldn't save them from Voldemort, then nobody could.

He sat in an armchair in the corner, saying nothing, looking into the middle distance at something only he could see. Ginny didn't go over and she didn't say anything. There was nothing to say. By the end of the day, Harry would either be a killer or a dead man. It was no wonder that he didn't want to talk about it. The thought of the battle ahead was probably consuming the whole of his mind.

He was so absorbed in his own thoughts that Ron had to shake him to get him back from his trance-like state. Breakfast would be waiting, and although few people would feel like eating today, nothing would stop Ron from attacking the breakfast table. If he thought that way, he would probably say that there could be nothing worse than dying on an empty stomach. And he would say it with his mouth full.

Ginny descended the stairs to see Blaise sitting in the Entrance Hall with Daniel. He looked up, startled, when he heard them coming, and the look in his eyes frightened her. Something had happened. It could only mean one thing. Somewhere, the battle was already beginning. As she reached him, the Slytherin stood up and faced her, his whole expression one of dread and fear.

"What's happening, Blaise?" she cried. "Don't look at me like that. Tell me, what's going on?"

"It's starting," he said, flatly. "Theodore Nott just tried to kill me."

And before he could say any more, there was an earth-shatteringly loud crash. It split eardrums and knocked people to the floor. Something was starting, and it was starting in the dungeons. Among the Slytherins; exactly where everyone would be expecting it to happen. The Entrance Hall was suddenly full of people. People running, screaming and panicking like scared sheep. And into that mess of emotion and terror rushed the bright varicoloured lights of assorted curses. Three people dropped before anyone realised what was going on.

Daniel stood. He knew what he had to do. It was now or never. "Outside!" he shouted. "Run, to the Quidditch pitch! We can take them down easier if we get outside. In here, we haven't a hope!"

Blaise wondered which side his friend was talking to. He felt a pang for thinking disloyal thoughts, but there was something odd about Daniel. He couldn't place it exactly, but he always felt as if there was something that he wasn't being told. There was some big secret, and he wasn't in on it. He rather thought that it had something to do with the Potions Master, Snape.

He didn't wonder for long. He ran. They all did. It was undignified and scrappy, playground fights gone horribly wrong. He saw people everywhere, the bright lights of curses and spells shooting their way across the pitch like rogue bludgers. He elbowed one would-be attacker out of the way, and hexed as many people as he could just for being in front of him. He didn't care what side they were on. Anyone on this field might try to kill him. He might know that he would rather kill himself than sell his soul to the devil that was the Dark Lord, but his fellow students didn't.

He turned his head and caught sight of a head of red hair. He made his way towards it and found himself face to face with Ginny's brother, Ron.

"Come to kill me, Zabini?" the boy asked, glaring at him, his wand levelled at Blaise's chest height. "I told Ginny you were – "

Blaise brandished his own wand. "Stupefy," he called. The red Stunner went straight past Ron, hitting the girl who had been sneaking up behind him. "You were saying, Weasley?" Ron couldn't speak, his mouth was flapping uselessly. "Don't judge me by my house. Come over here and fight with me. Two can fight better than one."

Against his better judgement, and all the while looking about to see where Harry had got to, Ron crossed the few yards that lay between him and Blaise, and the pair of them fought together, joining the battle with a will. Blaise wanted to know where Daniel had gone, but he could be anywhere on that field, caught up in any part of this scrum of murderous students.

There was another loud bang, and all of a sudden there were more people on the pitch than there had been before. Taller people, people in dark cloaks and masks. Blaise knew that no one could Apparate inside Hogwarts grounds. So what was going on? Then he saw that there had been no magic involved. The perimeter wall had fallen, and more Death Eaters were climbing in over the rubble to join the fight. Now it was serious. Now it was no longer just students fighting other, misguided, students. Now the Death Eaters were here, and the Dark Lord had come to claim his prize. But where was Harry Potter?

Harry and the DA had secured the front part of the Ravenclaw stands as a base, and were so far repulsing all efforts by their opponents to get in at them. Now that the adult Death Eaters were here, though, Harry wasn't sure how much longer they could hold their own. Where was Dumbledore? Where were the Aurors? Why was it being left to a group of children – however well trained in defence – to fight the forces of supreme evil? And, most importantly, where was Ron?

Blaise cursed as he gently lowered Ron's limp body onto the first row of seats in the Slytherin stands. He put a finger to the other boy's neck, checking for the pulse that he was praying was still there. Ginny would never forgive him if he let her brother die. Miraculously, he was alive, and looking more closely, he was breathing normally and appeared uninjured. The curse that he had been so worried about had been a mere Stunner! The relief that filled him lasted a very short time indeed. It was hard to feel any happy emotion when surrounded by a vicious battle.

He was alone in the fight now. Ron had been good at watching his back. They'd protected each other well enough until now. Blaise craned his neck and could just see Harry Potter in the stands on the other side of the pitch. He sighed, resignedly, and plunged back into the fray in a desperate attempt to reach the place where the DA were gathered, firing off hex after hex in the seemingly endless ranks of the Dark Lord's followers.

Blaise was halfway across the pitch when he was hit by a Leg Locker curse from one of the DA. He swore violently as he fell to the ground, cursing the over zealous members of Potter's little army. Ginny saw him fall and nudged the author of the jinx hard, hissing:

"Creevey, you idiot! You've just hit Blaise!"

Colin Creevey looked abashed, pausing in his counter-attacks on the Death Eaters to protest, "But he's a Slytherin! He was heading over here! I thought he was attacking us!"

Ginny sighed but let it go. She watched Blaise struggle upright and remove the hex from his legs. He continued on through the fighting ranks of students. He knew that there were not very many students at Hogwarts – a few hundred, perhaps – but when they were all in one place, as now, there seemed to be thousands. Of course, the addition of the fifty or so Death Eaters was not helping matters at all. He cursed a seventh year Slytherin who seemed determined to stop him from reaching his destination, and smiled with satisfaction as the other boy crashed to the ground, already snoring loudly.

The emotion was short-lived, however, for no sooner had he taken one pace forward than a tall cloaked figure stepped out in front of him, saying: "Going somewhere, Mr. Zabini?" in a cold, sharp voice that Blaise knew only too well.

"Malfoy," he spat.

"So you know me?" The figure asked, and he could hear the smirk in the voice. "Then the hood is really unnecessary, don't you agree? After all, you should really get to look upon your killer's face, shouldn't you?"

The Death Eater lowered his hood and discarded his mask, to reveal the gaunt, sneering face of Lucius Malfoy. That smile was definitely not natural, Blaise decided, with some portion of his petrified mind. He raised his wand defensively, and Malfoy laughed. The cold grey eyes shone maliciously as the silver haired man raised his own wand, only one spell on his lips.

Daniel had been fighting in one corner of the pitch, not far from the DA. There was a lull in the battle, as if someone, somewhere, had decided that enough people had fallen and that it was time to get serious. He didn't see Voldemort standing in the middle of the field, scanning the place for Harry Potter. He was too busy looking for Blaise. He wanted more than anything for his only true friend to be alright.

As he stood, on the edge of a fight that was standing still, a flash of acid green light flickered across the corner of his eye. It was Killing Curse green. He looked round, desperately, just in time to see the curse light hit its target, and to watch Blaise crumple at the knees and crash to the floor.