While my relationship with Draco hid behind closed doors, kissing in random places and never really doing anything but, my relationship with Blaise began to heal. After my betrayal, we only ever glanced at each other, but recently he had been making more attempts to approach me, to talk to me, and slowly began to allow me back into his heart. I was relieved to have him back.

"So, what are you gonna do about your being the heir of Slytherin and all?" he asked as we walked aimlessly down the corridors on the dreary Sunday after the match, most of the rest of the school either at Hogsmeade or at home with their families.

"I don't really think I can do anything. How do I tell my mum that she wasn't born to the man she's been grieving for her whole life?"

"But how awesome would it be to have everybody just shut up about you, to stop calling you names,"

"What, like Princess?"

"You kind of are a princess though,"

"An heiress,"

"Yes, but that doesn't sound the same." I nudged him and he laughed. "I'm calling you princess anyway." he declared.

"But I'm still 'princess' because of a man who practically wanted to kill all my friends." I said, exasperated. It had been playing on my mind since I opened the Chamber of Secrets. "I thought that finding out I was the heir would make me feel better about being Slytherin and still practically a muggle, but now it just seems like whatever I do, I'm either betraying my human side or my muggle side."

That was why I liked being with Blaise. With him, I could be both muggle-like and a Slytherin. Up until that point, he was my main comfort. But then everything changed. As Blaise opened his mouth to rebuttal, and owl swooped down and dropped a letter in his hands. It then looked at him for a moment, something like pity in its wise face, before it flew off again.

Blaise fingered the corners of the letter.

"Looks official," he remarked, turning it over to see that there was a Ministry seal on the back. He opened it up to reveal several documents, one of paper from the Ministry of Magic, one handwritten letter from what I thought was his mother judging from the handwriting, and one which bore the Metropolitan Police symbol in the corner. His eyes widened as he scanned the letter from his mother, and his face paled. He staggered backwards until he hit a wall, and then slid down it, knees to his chest, holding the crumpled piece of parchment up to his eyes, scrutinizing it, as if he couldn't believe what he was reading. Or maybe because he couldn't see through the tears that had begun to flow.

I walked over and put a hand on his shoulder, sliding down to his level.

"Is everything Ok?"

"My uncle, he's dead." he said, and though his eyes glimmered with tears, his voice was emotionless. It was unsettling.

I remembered Blaise talking about his uncle. The one who had taught him his tolerance for muggles. He spoke of him often and fondly. In fact, he was supposed to be staying with him over Christmas. I could only imagine what he was going through now.

"W-What happened?" I asked, eyeing the Met Police logo.

"Bloody muggles happened," he said, coldly. "They jumped him, broke his wand. He only had a few knuts on him..."

"Blaise," I interrupted, putting a hand on his arm. He didn't have to carry on. He shook my hand off however.

"No! They shot him, with one of those guns," He began to raise his voice. "the bloody animals!"

"Blaise, please don't..."

"Don't tell me what to do! We wizards, we have one killing curse. Only one way to do it. Those muggles, they have so many! Knifes and bombs and those guns! They live to kill, they all do it. They have so little respect for each other, for life. They're goddam gits, the lot of them! And you..." he spun towards me with malice in his eyes, "You are just like them!"

He seized my left hand and waved it in front of my face.

"Read those words Angeline! I must not act like a muggle, too right! You are such a filthy muggle," he paused, probably seeing the hurt in my face. He dropped my arm, and I clutched it back into myself, it burned red and sore.

"Princess, I-"

"Don't call me that," I spat at him, turning on my heel and leaving him to collapse back onto the floor and cry. I heard the sound of paper shuffling as he crumpled the letters in anger and threw them into nowhere in particular.

When Blaise was well and truly out of the way, I began to run and run towards the dungeons, streaking through the common room and hurtling my way down the stairs. Somewhere behind me I heard someone say my name. I ignored it, I just kept running until I leapt into my bed, curled up and began to sob. I sobbed for what Blaise had done to me, how much it stung, but mainly I sobbed out of pity, pity for the poor soul who could turn his back on all he once believed. And pity for the friend I had lost.

At some point, a warm body entered and crawled into bed with me, holding me as I cried until finally I drifted off into a hot and restless sleep, bullets firing in my mind.