The return home was somewhat more subdued than I had expected it to be. For some reason, I had imagined that Blaise would be delighted, excited as I was. Instead, as we made our way back to Hogwarts, he seemed pensive.

When we reached King's Cross where the train would be waiting to take all those who had gone home for the weekend back to school, he finally spoke.

"Wow," was all he said.

"I know," I replied. It was probably a lot for him to take in.

"I know you're burning to say you told me so, but we still can't be completely sure..." I whipped my head around to glare at him. Why was he always so cynical? Surely this was all the proof he needed!

"Seriously?" I exclaimed, feeling my face flush with anger, "Was that not enough for you? Would you like to see it in writing?" My hands clenched at my sides, itching to slap him square in the face. He put out a hand towards me. I recoiled. He retracted it.

"It's not that Princess, it's just, why do you have to be right? Why does this mean so much to you?" I paused. Good question.

"It's just that... I don't get it. I don't get the Slytherin house. I don't get how you can all hate muggles so much. I don't get your whole idolatry of the Dark Lord. I don't get why you're all so mean, and why I had to be sorted into it. Why I couldn't be friends with everybody in the other houses and be welcomed, not fought. Why I couldn't cheer in a quidditch match when two different houses were playing. I just don't get people like that, people like... like..."

"Me." Blaise's voice was thicker than before. I looked up to see tears glistening in his eyes. He blinked them away, and looked down. I felt my anger flood away and my heart sink to the soles of my shoes.

"Blaise, I-" but there was nothing I could say. "I just want to know why." He nodded, still not meeting my eyes.

We sat in the carriage for hours, the air so tense that everybody who peeked into our carriage to see if there was a spare seat quickly pretended they had never seen anything and walked away. Because that was really the question wasn't it. It wasn't why did I want to be right, it was, what if I was wrong? What then?

After a while, however, Blaise seemed to have a thought. As the idea dawned on him, the tension lifted, the usual brightness returning to his face. I looked up, curious.

"There's a definitive test!" I had had quite enough of this disbelief, but reluctant to start another fight, I feigned interest in what he had to say.

"Hmm?"

"Have you heard of the Chamber of Secrets?" I shook my head, "Well, there was this legend that when Salazar Slytherin left Hogwarts, he left behind him a Chamber, in it containing a beast which would rid the school of all those with impure blood. He swore that his heir would one day return to open it. It has been opened twice, both times by your- alleged- grandfather. The second time, something happened and the creature was destroyed, but one thing remains. The heir, any heir, can still open the chamber. And I know where it is."

I felt my heart begin to race. The question melting out of my head. The train pulled up, and up ahead I saw a few boats already making their way across the Black Lake. There were no carriages pulled by thin air for weekend returnees.

"Take me there," I said to Blaise as we disembarked the train, and we immediately made our way to a boat and began to row towards the majestic castle along the cold, black lake.

We walked up the stairs to the second floor, and then Blaise took me towards a place I had yet since avoided. He began to enter when I pulled him back out.

"What are you doing?" I hissed. "This is the girl's bathroom!"He laughed, as if in on a joke I wasn't.

"Nobody goes in here," he said, striding in.

"Why?" I asked, tentatively following.

"I'm why!" said a high-pitched, whiny voice. Blaise rolled his eyes as an iridescent girl swooped down in front of me, hanging in mid air. I still hadn't quite gotten used to ghosts, it was hard enough looking at the Bloody Baron, but seeing a girl younger than myself, it was... surreal.

"Angeline, this is Myrtle."

"Why don't you tell her my real name, boy?" The girl flew up to the ceiling, screeching all the way. "It's moaning Myrtle. Isn't that what you all call me?" she perched on top of one of the stalls, dabbing away non-existent tears and sniffling a little bit. I was finding her increasingly annoying.

"Of course not, Myrtle," he said submissively, turning away from her, taking my hand with little hesitation and leading me over to the sinks. "This is the entrance," he said, placing my hand on one of the silver taps, shaped in the form of a snake.

I stood there for a second, Blaise's hand having moved to rest on my lower back. I shifted under its pressure, uncomfortable with his confidence in touching me. Did he know I wasn't interested? I focused on the tap, trying as hard as I could to figure out what to do. I turned the knob. Nothing happened. Behind me I heard an unsettling sound which I think was a giggle, coming from Myrtle's direction.

"That tap has never worked! Honestly, completely hopeless!" she fell back in fits of laughter, bending over backwards and falling with a splash into one of the toilets. I shook my head, turning the tap back despite the fact it would never run.

"What am I supposed to do?" I asked, finally surrendering.

"How about you... tell it to open?" I snorted at this, but turned back to see Blaise's face earnest. I shook my head, rolled my eyes and then said feebly,

"Open."

Nothing. I turned back to Blaise. He paused, and then leant in closer to my ear from behind me. I could feel his breath on my neck. It made me shiver.

"Don't say it to me, say it to the snake." I would have laughed had I not heard the sincerity in Blaise's voice. I took a deep breath, and stared at the snake.

"Open." I said again. This time, I heard a click. And then another, and then another, until I saw the very structure of the sinks begin to shift- just like the wall leading to Diagon Alley- until it became a large chasm. The entrance.

We both stood stunned, until Blaise finally spoke.

"It is you. You're the heir!"

"It's me," I repeated, relieved and amazed.

"It's you." I heard another voice, not Myrtle, but a male voice behind us. I spun on my heel to see Malfoy. He looked from me, to Blaise, to Blaise's hand on my waist, and back to me again. I quickly shimmied out from under Blaise's grip. Then I looked at Malfoy. Tears shimmered in his eyes. I didn't understand. I extended an arm to comfort him, but he turned away, fleeing the scene. My heart practically tore watching him go.

"Draco!" I called, making to go after him, when Blaise's hand snatched me, spinning me around to face him.

"Don't go," he said, his face pleading. I jerked away from him, but he held fast, stepping towards me. "Look, I can see it, alright? I can see when you look at him, I can see how you feel, because it's how I feel about you."

"Blaise-" I protested, but he cut me off.

"You could have me, if you wanted. I'm right here, and I'll do anything for you. Please, Princess. Choose me. I need you." He stared at me with big, brown, sad eyes, imploring me to stay. But each second I wasted I saw Draco in my mind's eye, running down the stairs, farther and farther out of sight to a point where I wouldn't know where to find him. I pulled away from Blaise again. This time, he didn't resist. I turned to leave.

"You've made your choice, then?" He asked. I nodded, turning, unable to look at his face.

I had made my choice, and I began streaking down the halls to find him. That blonde haired boy.