Chapter Fifteen: Beginnings
"Blaise, I'm worried." Hermione looks into my eyes pleadingly, as though I can somehow fix everything.
"Why are you telling me this? I'm worried, you're worried, everyone is worried. Anyone who isn't worried is either clueless or a prat."
I turn my face from hers, hopefully shielding the mounting terror that I've been feeling slowly build up ever since I concocted this stupid plan. Another stupid black curl falls into my face and I brush it away, blinking my eyes furiously from the slight sting the hair left.
"Are you . . . crying?" Hermione asks disbelievingly.
"No, It's just my stupid . . . hair." I push it furiously away from my forehead which only causes it to flop onto it again in a weird side swish.
"Why don't you just get rid of it?"
"Excuse me?" I face her and perform a famous Slytherin eyebrow raise, even going so far as to tilt my head in dramatic disbelief.
"No, not shave it off entirely. Goodness, Blaise, I meant why not cut it short? It would stop falling in your face and would probably be more convenient in the coming days." Ah, Hermione . . . always the factual one.
"Okay." I simply say, conjuring a pair of scissors and handing them to her. She sits dumbfounded and tries to sputter out something, but I continue as nonchalantly as though I were asking her to write her own name.
"You do it. I trust you not to make me look like a horrid freak, and if you do, I'll look more like a Death Eater anyway and probably get more publicity when I turn myself in."
I sit perfectly still and allow her to have at my hair, curls falling onto the floor in clumps. I sincerely wonder why I never thought of this before. My mother always did love my stupid curls, saying that I got my "most beautiful feature" from her. Her hair actually is the exact opposite—stiff as a light post—so I've always thought she was delusional, but it still would've gotten her attention and possibly the first real punishment in the last nine years. Then again, probably not, and I'm also kind of partial to my curls, which is why I've never cut them anyway. They remind me that I am my own person, and that I have a chance to get away from mummy dearest.
Hermione hands me a mirror, and I almost gasp at the sight. I'm pretty sure that I look like a serial killer, but then I remember that it's kind of the vibe I'm going for anyway, so it's not too terrible. I shrug my shoulders.
"Not bad, Hermione. I look like I belong to the Dark Lord now." We both make eye contact for a moment and burst out laughing. I tumble onto the floor from the heaving of my chest, something I haven't done in a while. When I sober up, I look at Hermione gravely.
"Tonight's the night, isn't it?" she asks me, her voice shaking a bit. I'm surprised that she doesn't already know, what with being inside Draco's head and all, but maybe she's just a really good actress. Heaven knows I'm not one, which is actually going to really suck these next few days.
I figure that tonight's the night when it all starts because Draco's been disappearing lately, and every time he returns, he looks frustrated or simply despairing, but this morning he looked belated, overjoyed, maybe even relieved. It has to be tonight, but it's already late in the day, so I realize that these next few hours are the last hours of this fantasy where maybe everything will work out okay.
"Yeah . . . but let's not talk about it. I want these next few hours to be, I don't know, maybe . . . normal. What do you usually do with your friends?"
"Blaise," Hermione smacks me lightly, "you are my friend. Anyways I've been thinking that it might be fun to play Truth or Dare, or in this case Truth or Truth, but I never have anyone to play it with. Do you want to play it now?" She has such a bright smile on her face that the dark cloud from moments ago are nearly gone. I can't say no to that.
"Sure, you go first."
"Favourite color."
"Easy, blue."
"Why?"
I laugh, "It's my turn to ask one! How about . . . what's the most embarrassing thing you've ever done in your entire life?"
"Well . . ." Hermione blushes scarlet.
This has to be good, I think to myself with a smirk.
"There was this one time," she continues, "I had brewed a Polyjuice potion, actually. It was second year and the Chamber of Secrets had been opened, and we thought . . ." she starts laughing.
"What?" I smile, almost laughing at whatever funny thing is sure to come.
"We thought that . . . that Draco Malfoy was the, the Heir of Slytherin."
I laugh out loud. Draco Malfoy . . . Heir of Slytherin? I contain myself after a moment and look to her, hoping for further explanation.
"So . . . so I brewed a Polyjuice potion, and Harry and Ron were supposed to be Crabb and Goyle, and I was supposed to be, well, you. But somehow, my potion got mixed up and I turned into a cat. A cat, Blaise! And I couldn't undo it, so I waited in the bathroom until it went away. Oh, it was the most horrible thing, and Harry and Ron don't know to this day. And it better stay that way . . ." she pokes a finger on my chest in mocking seriousness.
"Oh, you know that I won't tell Potter or Weasley."
"Okay my turn, what about you? What's the most embarrassing thing you've ever done?"
"Well," I sigh, feeling myself redden, "I was . . . well okay, this was just this last summer. My mother's work friends came to our house and I was expected to be perfection and therefore not show up, but I had no idea that they were even coming, or that they were going to be taking a tour of the mansion that included my bedroom. So, I came out from the shower, and I wasn't dressed . . . at all, as in stark naked.
"I walked into my room to find a good dozen middle-aged witches . . . staring at me and my . . . well, my everything. And to make matters worse, I shoved on the nearest thing to me, and it turned out to be my mother's lacey thong . . . I think she and her man friend must have been sleeping in there. But there I was, standing in my bedroom wet and in nothing more than a pink, lacey thong . . . horrifying, really, and then one of the witches took a picture, and I had to chase her around the house in the thing until I finally managed to snag the camera. Then I modified everyone's memories—including my mother's—and promptly switched bedrooms. I haven't stepped foot in my old bedroom since."
Hermione can't hold back from this one, and she grins widely and begins to chuckle, a chuckle which quickly turns to a laugh, a throaty kind of gargled laugh, the kind of laugh I'd never expect to come out of her tiny form. She sounds like a crow, cawing desperately in a fight over a piece of popcorn or something.
I can't help it, I'm laughing too. My laugh is rather light, always has been, but the soft tickle of my laughter is usually overlooked by the fact that when I laugh, it's a right fit of laughter. I can feel the tears streaming down my face and trickling onto my chin, giving me a watery beard. Then I heave and hold my chest, feeling the edgy burn as though I'd just chugged firewhiskey, a drink that I can't say I enjoy, but a classic Slytherin party drink nonetheless. My chest starts to hurt a bit, and I try to slow myself down before I bruise a rib from all the laughing (something I've actually done before). I suddenly stop when I don't hear any more of the gargled laughter. Hermione is staring down at me with a grin on her face.
"You wear a women's thong and you laugh like a woman too!" she exclaims, a silent tear of mirth rolling down her currently dry face.
"Hey now, let's not be rude!" I try to be stern, but it's rather impossible when you're staring into that grin. Hermione conjures a cloth and then hands it to me. I wipe at the tears on my face before tossing it back at her.
"I don't want that!" she shouts, jumping out of the way. I pink up the cloth and charge towards her, but she's quick and she runs away from me, laughing all the while. She darts herself into a corner, and I know now's my chance. I rush as quickly as I can and slam into her, pushing her against a couch before withdrawing, panting from the effort to chase her.
"You're quick!" I exclaim between breaths.
"And you're fat!" Hermione winks at me, and I begin to laugh again. I manage to smolder one of my terrible smolders and close my eyes halfway.
"Always" I mouth, pretending to toss some hair over my shoulder. I won't be doing any of the "sexy" pictures that I pretended to do earlier this year with Draco, but I still like to see her smiling in what little time we have left to actually be happy.
As though the thought itself were a bad omen, Hermione's face suddenly stiffens. Her eyes dart back and forth warily, and she grabs my upper arm.
"Blaise . . ." she whispers in a short breath, "It's begun."
I sigh, fully aware that she means it's time for me to face my fate and for her to do the same. I look into her eyes for what I figure will be the last time for a long while.
"Godspeed, Hermione." I whisper, pulling her into a brief hug, a hug which she surprisingly returns.
"Be careful, Blaise." She says this at her normal tone, and then she rushes away, off to Gryffindor tower to warn the students of the danger. I swiftly cross the room and stuff a few potions into my robes before following her out the door, rushing to the Astronomy tower. My feet feel heavy and the distance has never seemed so long before, but I know what I have to do; and I therefore do not falter.
Up the stairs I run, trying to beat Draco to the spot I know that they'll all be meeting. I have to act fast! When I reach the top of the stairs and thrust the doors open, I see Dumbledore sitting on a small cot, panting heavily. He looks surprised to see me, and even more surprised to see the Dark Mark on my forearm that I've purposefully uncovered for this meeting and for the sake of the other Death Eaters. Dumbledore opens his mouth to say something, but I know there simply isn't time.
So these next several chapters are really defining moments for Blaise, and I'm super excited that I get to start sharing them with you. I guess we'll have to wait and see if Blaise is the genius he thinks he is.
If you liked the chapters so far or have any suggestions to make it better, please leave a review. I'd love to hear from you guys.