The Slytherin Queen

by the gray rose7

A dark cloud appeared over the magical world. The Dark lord was back, no matter the denial of the ministry. And Rosalind knew it. She knew that a war was coming, and she knew that her housemates were likely to fight. So would she. But for no noble reason. Rosalind wanted revenge, and revenge she would have. By any means necessary.

41. Chapter 41

A/N: First of all, I apologise for not posting a chapter in so long, but I hope that this lengthy chapter will make up for the delay. Thank you for the reviews, they are much appreciated. I would greatly appreciate it if you would comment on this chapter as well, because it was incredibly difficult to write. Also, some Italian was used, but as it is my third foreign language, I am not sure I used it properly. So I apologise in advance, feel free to correct me. Enjoy!

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Chapter 41: In your arms

Sleep came easily to me that night.

Such was my exhaustion that consciousness slipped from me promptly, like water slipping from your grasping hand. Had I been any less tired, I would have surely struggled to keep my eyes open, sensing danger. No one falls asleep easily after being exposed to this much darkness.

Yet every part of me, body and soul, screamed for rest. And my tired mind gave up its fight, giving way in dreams to impulses I struggled with while awake.

I fell asleep, dreaming a most candid dream.

The first thing I remember is finding myself in a dark, vast area. I looked about, trying to collect my bearings, but knowing my efforts to be in vain. There was no light, only darkness that rendered me blind, but strangely enough, I had no fear.

I had been here before.

A strange, silvery light appeared far ahead, flickering uncertainly, as if coming from a candle that threatened to go out any moment now. My feet moved on their own, walking towards it. There was something I had to see there. Someone was waiting.

I walked, but my feet made no sound. There was no one to keep me company as I walked, but I was more than certain that I was not alone. Suddenly, the impenetrable darkness around me felt alive, crowded with hundreds of shadows which too made their way to the small flicker ahead.

As we neared the small flicker, I realized that I could make out a tiny, human shape. A couple of more steps, and I recognized the light as a form belonging to a small child, that could not be more than four years of age. I knew it was a girl.

I made two more steps, before coming to a stop with the shadows, the darkness forming a tight circle around the girl. I had nearly forgotten what a beautiful child she was.

She had long golden hair that reached just past her shoulders in a mass of delicate curls. Her eyes were a dark, astonishing shade of blue, her nose was thin and her pink lips full. I was correct, Melody was four years old here.

I realized that she was the source of the light, or rather, she stood veiled in it, sheltered from the dark. Something was protecting her.

As I watched, a dark, curiously large hand reached greedily towards her from the dark. She spun about, eyes wide, to face whoever threatened her. She raised her hand, and with a flash of white, forced the hand to retreat.

This was a momentary victory, I knew, for the circle felt tighter, I too having made an unconscious step forward. Worry quickly bloomed in my chest, and I reached into my robes, searching for a wand. Only to find it missing.

Four more hands reached towards my sister, who fought them off bravely. But the light had almost gone out, now focused on the very tips of her fingers. I knew she would not be able to defend herself again.

Desperation spurring my action, I attempted to move forward, not knowing what it was that I intended to do. I knew I had no magic here. But if need be, I'd protect her with my life.

But my feet would not move, as if stuck to the ground.

"Don't bother" I heard a voice speak, the first sound in the silent room. I had not noticed how infernally silent the room had been. "it won't be long now."

Curiosity flashed like a spark in my mind, but I had no time to pursue it. This voice felt alien, yet familiar, but as much as I wished to discern its owner, I could not tear my eyes from the scene unfolding directly opposite me.

I had not given my sister enough credit as it seemed, for she managed to ward off yet another attack, sacrificing what light was left on her little fingers in the process. She had but the barest sheen now, and the shadows were gloating. She was defenceless.

And as they reached forward, a muffled scream rising in my chest, a bright white light appeared beside the child. I blinked once, twice, my eyes adjusting to this bright new light, the voice spoke again.

"Melody is protected, she will always be protected."

I could have sworn I had heard that voice speak before, but for the life of me, I could not discern where.

The witch that had apparated to my sister's side a second before, reached her right hand, offering it to the child. Melody accepted the hand without a second of hesitation, drawing herself closer to the woman. I watched as her ice blue eyes flashed, and my double raised her left hand, which now held our wand. The tip shone with a bright white, pulsating white, that spread like a tidal wave, whisking away every shadow in sight.

The light created a sharp border between us and the darkness a couple of yards behind me, and I turned to it swiftly, for the first time hearing footsteps.

Someone was walking out of the shadows, the first and only person to make any sort of noise in this dark place.

"You have done well in protecting her" I heard the voice speak again, soft footsteps still approaching. Not even Melody had made any noise when she walked. "I should be proud."

A wild thought occurred to me, one that sent shivers down my spine. Only the innocent are allowed to make any noise in this silence.

"But I found myself slightly resentful" another small figure appeared from the dark in that moment, coming to a stop on the border, just out of lights reach. I knew this light would never reach her. She had been the sacrifice.

She was smaller than Melody, but the similarity was obvious. Same thin nose, same oval face. Yet her hair was a much lighter blond, that now acquired a silver sheen. And I knew, even if her eyes were closed, that they were a much lighter blue.

Please, don't look at me. Just don't open your eyes.

I felt cold sweat wash over me as the child, perhaps in response to my plea, did just that. And stared at me with those ice blue eyes.

"I understand why you had to protect her." She said, and my heart stopped beating "But why did you have to give me up?"

I woke with a start, sitting up in my bed.

My heart was hammering in my chest, and I raised a shaky hand to my forehead, finding it damp with sweat. A deep breath, and one more. But I could not close my eyes.

Serpen stirred, him too wakened by my nightmare. He felt my distress, and slithered to my side, emerald green eyes staring into my very soul. I could not meet his gaze, his question ringing in my head. Are you alright?

No Serpen, I am not.

I remember lowering myself gently on the sheets once more, covering myself up to my chin, horribly cold, and Serpen curling up beside me, his head settled on my stomach.

I did not close my eyes again that night.

---

I spent the next couple of days in a relatively peaceful routine. Indeed, I had nearly forgotten all about our little confrontation when Dolores made her move at last. And what an entertaining move it was.

The news of a new Educational Decree found me in the Great Hall, nibbling on some toast. The last owls had just taken flight when a second year Ravenclaw stumbled through the doors, alerting us to this new development in a high, shrill voice. Her eyes immediately darted to the Slytherin table, and I only later realized whom she was looking for.

Of course, I was not particularly concerned. With my seventeenth birthday fast approaching, my power soared daily. I had nothing to fear from that pink toad.

But I stood up none the less, following a stream of students up the marble staircase. Our progress was slow, as more and more dunderheads joined the torrent on every step, but our destination proved to be well worth the trouble.

As it so happened, we arrived just in time to see a smirking Filch nail Educational Decree number twenty four to the wall. The funny edict read as follows: Students are prohibited from taking on any self-imposed titles. Non compulsion will result in immediate expulsion.

And as if this was not humorous enough, Filch proceeded to add another Decree to Dolores' little collection. The second decree stated : Students are prohibited from addressing one another using any self-imposed titles. Non compulsion will be severely punished.

It was beyond clear that these measures were meant to spite one particular student. I was not impressed.

We disbanded, bidden to do so by a glowing Dolores Umbridge. No less than sixteen people called me Queen that day, some repeatedly. Blaise seemed to find this hilarious, calling to me across the room and using the word in each sentence.

Arielle too seemed to be unable to keep her mouth shut, and kept using lunch to inquire, rather loudly, whether my Queenliness would like some more gravy with my pork. Or, with a wicked grin, whether the Queen would please accompany her to the loo.

I too found that this was a unique opportunity, however brief in duration, to grate on Dolores' every nerve. Therefore, instead of using the pronoun I, I chose to refer to myself in third person, using a royal We.

However, by far the funniest was Professor Flitwick, who greeted me in his high, shrill voice with "Ah the Slytherin Queen, hello, hello" as he passed me in the hallway. Dolores, who was quite fortunately passing by, turned a wonderful shade of scarlet. I had no doubt that she thought of at least a dozen new decrees by supper time.

However, it was not to be.

Once again, our evening meal was interrupted, this time by Argus Filch himself, who burst through the doors, waving a piece of parchment in the air and summoning his dear High Inquisitor. He had got a letter from Cornelius himself, ordering him to take down these decrees at once, for they were no longer in effect.

Naturally, we followed the hobbling squib, and I watched in delight as he mournfully took the edicts down, one at a time. Dolores' face was ashen.

By this time, Arielle had acquired a record number of twenty eight detentions. Blaise was a close second with twenty six, Daphne third with sixteen. Even my sister had got three detentions, unable to help herself when faced with the toad. As the decrees were declared invalid, the detentions were never effected.

---

However, my good mood was once again rather short-lived.

Though I could have named at least a dozen matters that were more pressing, or honestly, more interesting, I had instead chosen to attend a Quidditch match between Slytherin and Hufflepuff. A choice I would come to regret most dearly.

The game itself was dreadful. I sat in the Slytherin booths, watching as our Keeper let Quaffle after Quaffle zoom past his incompetent fingers and into the posts. I reckoned a Muggle would have been more adept at the game. About half an hour into the game, my eyes settled on a dark skinned figure as he zoomed past my booth, cold sweat appearing on the nape of my neck. I should have known.

I watched with discomfort as one of the Hufflepuff chasers zoomed past, tailing Blaise. But Blaise was much quicker, and apparently much smarter. He had seen the other two Hufflepuff chasers ahead of him, and hurtled the Quaffle directly between them. As both of the dunderheads flew to catch it, the Quaffle lost height, as it inevitably would, falling into Montague's waiting hands. The two idiotic Hufflepuffs stopped a second before crashing into one another, leaving Montague to zoom through the field practically unhindered, to the cheers of our booths.

But my eyes never left Blaise. And I saw the entire ordeal with crystal clarity.

Zachariah Smith, a chaser and the captain of the Hufflepuff team, turned to our posts instead of following Montague. He leaned forward on his broom, a ferocious look in his eyes. I watched in silent horror as he flew forward, gaining speed, and rammed into Blaise. He, on the other hand, was headed for our posts, waved over by Draco. He never saw it coming.

Zachariah caught Blaise by the shoulder, knocking him off his broom. I jumped to my feet immediately, followed a moment later by Daphne and the rest of our booth. Serpen hissed in distress as we watched Blaise dangle off his broom, one leg still over his broom. If he tried to swing his arm, I was sure he'd fall to his death.

There was a collective, sharp intake of breath, and I heard Draco roar "FOUL!", zooming over from the other end of the court. Our team was returning, on their way to help, the game forgotten. But they wouldn't make it in time. They were all so focused on Blaise, no one saw the Bludger headed directly for his chest.

Before I knew it, I felt my mouth open in a scream "WATCH OUT!"

And he heard me.

People screamed, finally noticing the imminent danger, and Blaise swung up, unhooking his leg and finally losing all hold on the broom. He began to fall, his hand outstretched, and I watched with my heart in my throat as Draco swooped in, catching his arm. The Bludger missed them by an inch. With the help of Crabbe, who was the second closest player, Blaise once more mounted his broom. And he looked angry as hell.

I let out a breath, falling back to my seat. Daphne reached for me, intertwining our fingers. She did not let go until the very end of the game.

This was such a cowardly move that even the Gryffindors seemed to be appalled.

"GET HIM OUT OF THE GAME MADAM HOOCH" roared Lee Jordan through his microphone, dancing out of the way of his head of house "Yes, sorry professor, well, after this disgusting foul, which was an accident I am sure, the Slytherins have three shots at Hufflepuff goal, and I would not like to be that slimeball Smith because the snakes look angry as hell. "

Indeed, Blaise flew back to our end of the court, angrily explaining something to the rest of the team. They proceeded to assume a rather odd formation, with him in the centre, and as they flew forward, Montague once more seized the Quaffle, but instead of heading for the posts, he turned around and passed it to Blaise. Blaise hurtled the Quaffle through the air, but he was not aiming at the posts. Instead, he hit Smith straight in the face, colouring it red with blood. I was to find out later on that he had broken his nose. Good.

"I just heard Zabini explaining to Madam Hooch that he mistook, I shall quote here "his blond rump of a head for a post. An honest mistake." Now folks, I don't like the snakes any more than any self respecting wizard, but the bloke has a point. I'm kidding professor."

Naturally, a broken nose was only the first of Smith's many misfortunes. Crabbe and Goyle had chosen to employ their time tailing Smith, sending Bludger after Bludger rocketing towards his frantic figure. If, by some stroke of bad luck, there was no Bludger in sight, they had no hesitation in swinging their bats at Smith, aiming for any body part available. The two of them together had little more wit than your average mountain troll, but they shared an undeniable talent for torture. By the end of the game, Smith looked as if he might die on his broom.

Of course, Madam Hooch was less than pleased with our game strategy. She summoned our Beaters to her side every two minutes or so, going so far as to pause the game on two occasions, but she was wasting her breath. She should have known that any reprimand would simply go over their head. Once given orders, Crabbe and Goyle followed through mindlessly.

Privately, this felt like the longest game of Quidditch in history. Cold sweat washed over me as I took a seat, only to morph into a distinct sense of nausea that would not leave me for hours to come.

I made a terrible mistake.

They had not noticed for a moment or two, the game before them by far too absorbing to allow for distractions, but the House would not fail to address my blunder. They had heard me all too clearly. As the game continued and it became evident that only a small miracle would grant us victory, the attention of our booth shifted from the game to myself.

I wished to leave, I did, but I could not. Serpen hissed beside me, voicing our distress, but remained in his place as well. It was expected of him.

But as the Hufflepuff seeker finally caught the snitch, I was the first to rise to my feet. He would come looking for me, I knew that well, and he could not be allowed to find me. At least not before I gathered my wits. As I turned towards the steps, I met the curious stare of a third year who had been less than covert in her staring. A cold glare, and her face turned ashen. I was in no mood to tolerate brats.

I lowered myself from one step to another in a calculated pace, careful to seem indifferent. I knew that their eyes were focused on me, but the chatter of the crowd behind me faded to a mere buzzing noise somewhere in the back of my mind.

Oh Merlin, what have I done?

My heart hammered against my ribcage, adrenaline coursing through my blood like poison. It was only now, when I was sure he was safe, that I could discern the true depth of my fright.

I had to follow the crowd, at least until we reached the castle. Seclusion would be tantamount to an admission of guilt.

A painful sort of hollowness appeared in my chest as I struggled to think rationally.

Screaming out in warning was a mistake, there is no denying. But there was nothing else I could have done.

As my feet finally reached the grassy slope towards the castle, my eyes , on an accord of their own, wandered to the sky over the Forbidden Forest. I observed the setting sun that dyed the sky a bloody shade of red, leaving a chill breeze in its wake.

For once, I found myself grateful for the many duty of an heiress. I would follow my house to the Entrance Hall, and then proceed up the marble staircase to the Astronomy tower. No one would dare openly doubt my absence.

And I would be beyond his reach.

He heard the scream, that much was apparent. But did he, could he, recognize that it was me who warned him? He was so high up, he was hanging by one leg off his broom, blood must have rushed to his ears. There was little chance he recognized my voice.

I did my best to smother the small, pesky, insistent voice that claimed he had known exactly who it was that so foolishly screamed out. I knew it was right.

Besides, if he did not know now, he would soon learn the truth.

I could not meet him now, that much was beyond clear.

I stopped in front of a surprisingly well polished suit of armour, observing my reflection. The face that stared back appeared a picture of indifference, cold features and colder eyes. But there was something in that icy gaze, the barest flash of emotion that betrayed a storm within. Not many would be able to perceive my turmoil, but he undoubtedly could. With a racketing, screeching noise, the armour sprung to life, adjusting its poise and breaking the spell. I turned around, walking on.

No good would come from meeting him now, I was by far too susceptible to that blasted feeling. He was all too perceptive, I feared sometimes that he could read my very soul. No, it was best I collected my bearings.

Serpen slithered a bit ahead, granting me some space in his own way, headed for the Astronomy tower. A loud thought, and he stopped in his path, retracing his steps and entering the small reading room. Professor Sinistra usually prepared for classes here, but I knew the room to be empty tonight and I chose to use it for my own end.

I walked up to one of the more comfortable chairs, and took a seat , spreading out more than a dozen letters before me on the desk. I summoned an ink pot and a quill from one of the cabinets and proceeded to open the first letter, scanning its content. Work came as a much welcomed relief.

But no matter how hard I tried, I could not rid myself of the worry that plagued my mind, lurking behind every thought. Serpen lay beside me on the floor with his eyes closed, by far too massive for the small desk. I knew him to be awake, bearing the anxiety in silence. Perhaps we both sensed the imminent danger.

I finished my work by far too quickly, and decided to postpone my return just a little while longer, ascending the steps of the Astronomy tower.

Had I been any smarter, I would have never returned to the Common Room that night at all.

The cold breeze that I felt earlier that night picked up, growing in strength. It raised my hair, playing with the strands, and I huddled in my coat, cold but unwilling to leave.

I was much calmer now, yes, but he could shatter my composure with a single look. If I were to return tonight, I wished to do so unseen. But that could not be. It would not do for me to sneak about in shadows like a common thief. If I should return, I would have to walk through the centre of the room.

It was rather difficult to keep track of time in the tower, but it couldn't have been more than an hour later that I turned on my heel, descending the stairs that would lead me into the warm castle bellow. I had got used to the cold by then, yet knew better than to linger in the wind for too long. I could not afford to be ill .

I fixed my hair as I walked, determined to appear as collected as possible. I took a moment to recognize that curfew ought to be well in effect by this time, but it was of very little importance. I would be taking the shortest possible route, one known to very few students, prefects included. One annoying caretaker and his feline were familiar with the shortcut, but I imagined they would be skulking about the Gryffindor Tower at this time.

My nerves strained ever more with each step, and by the time I reached the small passage leading into the common room, I was forced to employ considerable effort in maintaining my composure. I could hear hushed chatter, steps echoing off the stone floor and what seemed like a couple of voices joined in disharmonious singing.

A couple of more steps, and I could just barely make out the verse, which summoned a small smirk to my lips.

Weasley cannot save a thing, He cannot block a single ring, That's why Slytherins all sing: Weasley is our King!

While I disapproved of Weasley being called a King of any kind, finding even such mocking use of the term to be highly inappropriate, I could see the rationale behind singing it at this mournful occasion. After all, no matter how badly you played, you could hardly be worse than the weasel.

But such amusing thoughts were quick to leave my mind. The common room was crowded, as I should have known it would be. Most of the students from higher years seemed to be present, with at least half of the younger years, some of which were blatantly too young and had no business being awake at such a late hour. Then again, who was I to lecture anyone on sleeping habits?

Most of the students were standing, lingering around desks or tables with glasses in their hands. I noticed several bottles of Firewhisky spread about the room, accompanied with bottles of wine and an odd Butterbeer. I could see some pumpkin pastries abandoned on a platter on a table to my left and assumed they had at least had enough sense to ingest some food before drinking such hard liquor. Some students chose to retire to couches and armchairs, but both those sitting and standing hushed suddenly upon my arrival. It seems I had been a very popular theme of discussion.

I could feel eyes of every single person focused on me, one pair in particular causing hamsters to jump in my stomach. Curse it all.

"Carry on" I said, my voice void of any emotion. I was in control for the moment, and that fact alone inspired courage in my tired mind. I waited for a moment, meeting several curious eyes that looked away the moment they realized they had been caught.

I made a step forward, and conversation picked up instantly, albeit in hushed tones and accompanied by covert glances. I had assumed I would be interesting for a couple of more days, but no more than that. How foolish of me.

Daphne sat on my couch with Astoria opposite her, both sisters meeting my gaze. They wished to talk, I could tell, but I turned my head from them, walking deeper into the room, down its very centre. I could not talk tonight.

People moved out of my way, wisely choosing to shy away from any physical contact. Serpen was once again most useful, hissing in warning to anyone drunk or foolish enough to step too close. But I barely noticed it, for I had finally summoned enough courage to look into one particular corner, just right of the mantelpiece.

Alphonse stood leaning on the wall next to Draco, a glass of what must have been Firewhisky making its way towards his mouth. Draco on the other hand stood closer to the wooden table, resting his elbow on its polished surface. There was a bottle there, and from the looks of its content, neither one of the boys had had only one drink that night.

My heart gave a little lurch as I noticed a half-empty bottle of Butterbeer left abandoned just beside Draco's hand.

And finally, as I knew I would, I lost the battle with my own eyes that now wandered towards the tall, dark skinned man making his way towards me. He seemed to have discarded most of his uniform in the course of the evening, ridding himself of his robes and tie and was now approaching me with his sleeves rolled up just below his elbows and top two buttons of his shirt left undone.

My gaze shifted up, past his chin, smirking lips, to finally meet his eyes. Once again making a mistake. I felt a sudden, almost physical jolt, as if hit by a stunning hex, and quickly averted my eyes. My confused mind took a second longer than usual to process what it had seen, noting that something changed in his eyes for a moment, that his smirk slipped from his lips before appearing once more.

I felt my heart pick up its pace, beating loudly in my ears, some strange anxiety settling in ever nerve. I could not tell how much of this was visible on my demeanour, but knew well how important it was that I kept on walking. Serpen gave a confused little hiss, not understanding why we were walking away from his favourite wizard. He should have known better.

"Hello Rosey" I heard to my left, and my feet stopped through no will of my own. No matter, I had known it would come to this from the moment I decided to return to my room tonight.

I took in a small, imperceptible breath, struggling with my nerves, and turned to face him. With no little effort, I forced myself to look up to his nose, looking just high enough to appear to be meeting his gaze, but still keeping my sanity in avoiding to do just that. He could tell, I knew, but this farce was not intended for him.

"Zabini." I spoke, quite pleased with my tone. I appeared calm, when in reality found myself ready to jump out of my own accursed skin. Serpen gave a little hiss, annoyed by the lack of greeting.

"Ah yes, little snake" spoke the man, his lips pulling into a genuine smile as he reached his hand towards Serpen "hello to you too."

My familiar was quite pleased with this, meeting Blaise's hand in greeting. For the briefest moment, I caught myself wondering what his skin would feel like on mine. This little show had to end. Now.

"Was there something you required?" I asked, adding a slight note of boredom to my tone.

He looked up, managing to catch me by surprise. I held his gaze for a moment, unconsciously taking in a deep, perceptible breath, unable to look away. But I found my resolve in the next moment, knowing that there was by far too much at stake.

"No need for such impatience Roseycheeks" spoke he, a wide smile pulling on his lips. "I merely wished to say that you look beautiful tonight."

There was no change in my expression, I made bloody sure of that, but my heart skipped a beat. What in the name of Merlin was wrong with me? How many times before had he paid me a compliment?

But had it ever sounded so honest?

I raised an eyebrow, proud of myself for the achievement, and drawled out: "If that were all.."

I made to turn, but he was quick to stop me.

"Wait."

He did not reach for me, he knew better than to do that, but it could have hardly stopped me as effectively.

"Rosey… can I have a word?" asked he, and I knew what my answer was. Why in the bloody hell did he think I'd say yes? With the entire House watching?

I turned to him with narrowed eyes.

"Of course not. It is by far too late for your games." There was an edge of cruelty that slipped into my words unintentionally, panic hindering my plans. Why did that no fight so hard to become a yes?

"Come now Rosey, have some mercy" smiled he with an odd, calculating expression "I nearly died today."

I felt a sharp pain in my chest, my mask slipping for the barest second. I could have lost him too. Another second, and my mind registered that he had said this on purpose, wishing to judge my reaction. Bastard. He knew exactly who it had been that screamed.

And I played right into his hand.

He would pay dearly for this.

"Very well" I responded, now genuinely cross. "But not here. "

I turned to my familiar, more than aware that the entire House was listening in.

"You are to stay here." I said and added in my mind : under no circumstances should you allow someone to follow. Even Daphne.

I turned to Blaise, all nervousness momentarily forgotten.

"Follow me," I spoke, adding as an afterthought, "please."

This was nothing short of a command, but I did not care. I had held him in too high of a regard, he was lowly enough to exploit my mistake to its fullest. Cold sweat washed over me, one violent thought forcing its way through all others.

He made a fool out of me.

Maddening rage erupted in my heart, drowning every sentiment in its path. I had shown him kindness on impulse, spared him unimaginable pain, and this was how he chose to repay me? Never in my life had I felt more embarrassment over a single deed.

Strangely sobered, I once more turned on my heel. But as I moved, the House moved with me. A rustle of a treacherous cloak, a head too drunk to move in time, a first year too clumsy to hide their curious glance. They had been watching, but none dared meet my eye. The room was silent, in spite of its numerous guests, our footsteps ringing loudly in my ears. He walked behind me quietly, easily matching my pace as I retraced my steps.

How dared he humiliate me? Is this how he treated those he cared for? Or was it all a deceit, a clever ruse? If it was…

I felt nauseas at the mere thought. Please, don't take it from me. Don't let it be a lie.

Climbing back into the dungeons, I took a right turn, descending deeper into the chill crypts beneath the castle. There was no more rustling, indicating that Serpen had remained behind, guarding the entrance to our common room. We would have privacy, if nothing more.

"Hey Rose" I heard behind me, his voice calling forth another wave of blinding rage. The fool dared speak.

I walked forward with grit teeth, struggling to stop myself from reaching for my wand. I had not saved him with the intent of becoming the one to take his life. However, if the blasted moron had the nerve to continue talking, whatever misfortune befell him would be entirely his fault.

"Hey Rosey" called he again, walking with somewhat of a longer stride now "can't you hear me?"

"Not by choice." I snapped, cursing myself for speaking at all. I would have done best in remaining quiet, ignoring whatever nonsense he wished to sputter.

"Come now Roseycheeks" spoke he, catching up and now strolling on my left, by far too casual. "surely you're not upset with me?"

I took another right, and he followed without breaking his stride, his head turned so he could observe me. Apparently, he had no use for it, not even to watch where he was bloody well going. I honestly hoped he'd smash it against some torch.

"By no means" I hissed, staring straight ahead " I enjoy being humiliated in front of the entire House. It's one of my most entertaining pastimes."

"Hold on" said he, his voice dropping, turning serious "I never intended to humiliate you."

I let out a cruel, hissing laugh, anger clouding my better judgement.

We were making too much noise.

"Then I must profess admiration for your talent." I snapped, turning my head for the first time, meeting his gaze with my best glare " You did admirably well for someone who had no such intentions."

I watched as something fell in his eyes, his features twisting in an odd, disturbing expression. I turned away, not wishing to acknowledge his pain, fearing it might deflate my just rage.

"Rosalind." Said he, stopping in his tracks just before we reached steps that would lead us down another floor.

I descended the first step, lowered my foot to the second before swearing once more and turning to see him still standing there, just looking at me.

"Walk." I snapped, turning from him again "You wanted a word, I'll see to it that you have it."

Another two steps, and he caught up, easily skipping the missing step and dodging the nook in the ceiling. I had taken him here only twice before, but he had memorized the way perfectly.

"Rosalind, please listen to me." Pleaded he, a step behind me. "I just wanted to talk to you."

"And you couldn't have asked in a more covert way?" I snapped, staring straight ahead and failing to notice the obvious. This hallway was never this brightly lit.

"Would you have said yes?" countered he, quite unfortunately having a valid point. "It was either this or-"

He cut himself off, surprising me enough to have me turn to face him.

"Or what?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. Whatever it was, it could not have been good.

He opened his mouth, then closed it, clenching his jaw.

After a moment of silence, he surprised me by being the first to break our little staring contest. "It was much more preferable than the alternative."

I observed his face in the light of the torch, seeing shadows play on his features, echoing the flickering flame. Another moment, and I recognized what I had failed to acknowledge before. I had never seen this torch lit in my life.

Bloody hell.

Someone was here, and I knew it was not a student.

I turned abruptly towards the far end of the wall, straining my eyes in an effort to make out the intruder.

"But you have to understand" continued Blaise, once more turning to observe me, "I never meant to hurt you, you know I'd never- what's wrong?"

"Silence!" I hissed, lightly flexing my fingers. I felt my wand move down my skin, slipping from my sleeve into my waiting palm.

I strained my ears, struggling to hear whatever noise the other side would make. I could hear Blaise take in a slow, quiet breath, my own heart beating and fire crackling in the torch to our right. But little else. Whoever it was either wished not to be heard, or was not close enough to make any audible noise.

I honestly hopped it would be the later, for I found myself at a disadvantage. My heart hammered in my chest, the beats ringing loudly in my ears as adrenaline rushed through my blood. This could not end well.

But how could this be? This was a very old, very dark part of the castle, very few students were even aware of its existence. Fewer still were those who would be skilled enough to manoeuvre the dungeons well enough to purposely find their way here.

There were only two staff members who would have an intimate enough knowledge of the castle to wander here. However, it was certainly not Snape. The bat never lit torches as he swooped through the halls. That left only the Headmaster.

Somehow, I knew it was not him.

There it was, a soft thumping sound of feet meeting stone. I closed my eyes, trying to focus. It was only one pair of feet as far as I could tell, but there was something wrong with the sound. I furrowed my brow, trying to find the source of this dissonance before its maker found us.

Yes, only one set of feet. But different feet. As if one foot was heavier than the other, or as if... the person hobbled.
I was wrong. Someone else knew this old building well enough to track us. I felt relief wash over me, finding the old fool and his feline much more preferable an option than an unknown Death Eater. But momentary relief was quickly followed by dread.
If he caught me sneaking around the dungeons with a boy in the dead of the night, he wouldn't report to Snape. He'd report to Dolores.

And she had been waiting a long time for a chance such as this. She could only grant me a detention, that much I knew. But there was something else she could do, the very idea bathing me in cold sweat.

How would I explain this to Grandfather?

I had perhaps half a minute to think of something before the blasted feline emerged from the turn ahead. Running back was not an option, we'd never make it up the stairs in time. Besides, he did not need to catch us, he only needed a glimpse.

We could only hide.

And there was not enough time to disillusion us both.

I turned to Blaise, acting on pure instinct. He had drawn his wand as well, aiming it at the corridor ahead. I raised my wand, aiming at his chest, noting that his eyes widened in surprise.

"Rose-"breathed he as I whispered "Celo!"

A flick of my wrist, a flash of white light, and all colour drained from the man opposite me. His skin had assumed the colour and texture of the wall behind him, masking him well.

Fifteen seconds.

There was no other choice.

I reached towards him, wrapping my fingers around his right forearm and took a step back, towards the wall, drawing him with me. He stood frozen for a second, hidden from my eyes, before I felt him move to follow.

"Exsculpo!" I whispered, making another step backwards, my eyes focused on the hall ahead. Small, mercury coloured blotches appeared here and there on my figure, spreading with astounding speed and enveloping me whole.
"Don't move" I whispered to the man on my side, having no need to see him to know that his eyes had never left my form.

Just as those words left my lips, Mrs. Norris, the accursed cat, sprung from the corner, looking for all the world as if she were in the midst of a very exciting hunt. Which, I imagined, she was.

For Filch never visited this hall, Squib though he was, he could still sense the remnants of Dark Magic and he feared it so. Many students had practiced the most forbidden of spells in these halls over centuries, and the Arts left their mark.

We had been betrayed. Somebody would pay in blood.

The bloody feline sniffed the air, before turning to Blaise, malice shining in those yellow lamp-like eyes. A second later, and the hobbling fool appeared, panting heavily and clutching a lantern for dear life. How strong his malice must have been to overpower such fear.

"I know you're out there" drawled the squib "there's no place for yeh to hide. Come out now."
He raised his lantern, squinting his little mean eyes at the hall ahead. I took in deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart.

"Sniff around my sweet" wheezed he to the feline, "they must be around here somewhere."

The bloody cat raised her nose in the air, doing as she was bidden with much pride. I felt my heart skip a beat as she turned towards us, and began to walk directly towards Blaise.

I tightened my grip on his forearm unconsciously, frantically trying to think of a way out. She'd sniff him out.

While I had been reluctant to use the Exsculpo curse in front of Blaise, I now found myself grateful for my foresight. Belonging to some of the darkest Arts known to wizarding kind, this curse enabled one to completely disappear. In many ways, it was more effective than Potter's little cloak for it erased one's presence completely, erasing your footsteps, your very breath. You could not be sensed unless you willed it so.

I had placed my hand on his forearm to let Blaise know I was still there.

But he had no such coverage, and I heard him draw in a breath, ceasing to breathe as the cat approached. I had to act quickly.

I raised my wand, aiming it at the filthy creature.

"Confundo!" I whispered, watching as the cat gave a little start, before turning her head from us, walking past us in confusion, appearing to have lost our scent. That disgusting squib followed, wheezing and heaving, thrusting his lantern left and right, but finding no trace of his prey.

The cat stopped before the stairs, sniffing upwards before pouncing up the steps and out of sight.

"That's it my sweet, get them" cheered the foul man, hoisting himself with much liveliness up each step. "professor Umbridge will sort them out, she will."

I watched as he disappeared, standing there for a moment or two, breathing deeply. My heart was still racing, and I struggled to ease it back into its regular pace.

"Please don't take this the wrong way Rosey" I heard Blaise whisper, but my eyes were still glued on the steps "and I don't mind in the least but-"

"What is it?" I whispered back, annoyed that he found this a suitable time for idle chatter.

"Your hand is cold." He whispered and I once more felt as if I had been hit by a stinging jinx. I removed my hand from his arm quickly, now finding myself unable to meet his eyes for a different reason entirely.

"I think they're gone." I whispered, waving my wand once, ending the spell. I felt as if an iron casing had been taken off me, stretching lightly to get my muscles working properly again. This was the first time I had used this curse, and had therefore been unprepared for its weight.

"Hey Rosey, where have you been?" asked he, and I walked away from him quickly, entirely too nervous to dawdle for a second longer. I don't know who unnerved me more, the slimy duo or the man following me.

"Quickly now, they might be back." I said, choosing to utter this in place of a reply.

I cast one last anxious look back at the corridor, before turning the corner. There was no trace of either the squib or the cat, but one could never be too careful.

This hallway too was rather brightly lit, but I felt much safer within its premises. After all, there was more than a dozen doors here, some opening to a hall, some to an office, some to steps leading to yet lower levels of the dungeon, and some not opening at all, sealed by powerful, dark magic centuries ago. But all left largely undisturbed for years on end. The squib was neither foolish nor brave enough to venture through them alone.

I counted five doors before opening the six, quickly slipping through them and standing to the side allowing Blaise to follow.

He walked past me, and I aimed my wand at the door, speaking clearly : "Colloportus! Muffilato! Cave inimicium! Aversa pars scelus!"

I observed the wood for a moment longer, biding my time. In truth, I was gathering what courage I could, having suddenly realized that I had locked Dolores out, certainly, but had unwittingly locked myself in small quarters with the most dangerous man in the world.
With my heart thundering in my ears, I turned around, my eyes skimming over his form in passing. I could feel his eyes like needles on my skin, finding it hard to walk properly under such scrutiny. Any moment now, I'd trip and make a bloody fool out of myself.

I let out a small, relieved breath as I very slowly, very carefully, took a seat in the Master chair. Employing more fortitude than I considered myself capable of, I willed my eyes to rise from my hands, carefully folded in my lap, and meet his gaze.

I had done so with the intention of saying something, I was sure, but as I met his gaze, a lump formed in my throat, making speech impossible. Therefore, I settled for an impassive stare, my features set in stone.

He sat with his back straight, one arm resting against the armrest. I had expected him to be apologetic, but found him staring at me with his brows furrowed and narrowed eyes. If anything, he appeared to be... worried.

Seconds seemed like hours and I wished he'd just say whatever it is he wished to say. For if he did not, I was sure I'd sputter some nonsense, only burying myself deeper.

"Rose..." said he finally, "what are you doing?"

The question sobered me instantly. Normally, I would have assumed he had caught wind of some minor incident that I would have preferred to keep private. But there was something about his expression, his tone of voice. Both were suggestive of some darker, secretive matter. What in the world did he find out?

I raised my chin, looking down my nose at him. I could ill afford the slightest hint of weakness. Questions of this kind were among the most perilous for they could not be answered, and in the same time needed to be addressed with no delay.

"If you could elaborate..." I drawled, careful to betray no concern. It was imperative that he be the one to talk, not I.

Something ominous lurked in the silence that settled between us. He uttered not one word, choosing to take his time observing me.

And then, he said the unimaginable.

"I know about Knockturn Alley."

I lost my composure for the barest of seconds, surprise more than evident on my features. Quick as I was in schooling my features in impassiveness, the damage had already been done. I had inadvertently confirmed what he may have only assumed.

Honestly, I was slightly impressed as well. I knew him to be well-connected within the Community, but I did not realize his reach to be this wide. Not even Snape had caught wind of my little lesson.

But that is not to say that I would not do my best to deny any knowledge of said incident, lying through my teeth.

"I am sorry, it appears you lost me." I said, giving him a look that should have conveyed much more than simple words. Drop the subject.

I observed as he leaned forward in his chair, grasping tightly at each end of his armrest.

"Don't lie to me Rosalind." Spoke he, his words just barely above a snarl, "I know perfectly well what you did. What I don't get is how you could have gone that far!"

I felt anger bubble in my chest in response. How dared he defend that sadistic bastard?

"I see nothing wrong with what happened to Rosier. Even if I had no part in it." I replied, my tone ice itself.

"Rubbish!" yelled he in reply "You tore a man's arm off Rosalind! Fuck!"

I watched as he raised a hand, running it across his face, seemingly in an effort to calm himself. I had no such intentions. Since when was he such a goodie-two-shoes? If he were so innocent, how come he knew people dark enough to recount the incident in detail.

"He will never be able to use that arm again Rose! He can scarcely do any magic at all! How could you have done that to someone, anyone? That man is somebody's father, somebody's son!"

The room turned very, very cold. And very dark. I barely noticed Blaise sitting back down, having nearly jumped out of his seat in his rage. That man is somebody's son.

Once thunderous, my heart now seized beating at all, a throbbing pain settling in its place.

My ears rang with those words. He was somebody's son.

Merlin, what have I done?

I lowered my gaze to my tremulous hands, feeling all warmth leave them. Oh my Merlin, what have I done?

A small voice replied from the very back of my mind. He was a bad man. A monster. He deserved much worse than he got.

That's right. I punished him, nothing more and nothing else.

I raised my gaze, such bothersome thoughts long gone from my mind, anger more than quick to replace them. How dared he speak of a matter he knows so little about? What nerve he had to call me out.

"I must concur. It was a most horrific incident. But you are sadly misinformed, I had no part to play in it." I said, my eyes narrowing, betraying my rage.

"Stop lying to me!" snapped he, his hands clenching his seat tightly in an effort to control his rage. "First you have a stare down with that pink bitch in the middle of the Great Hall, now you massacre a person who bumped into you Rose! What's next? Torture to the point of insanity? Murder? Fucking hell Rosalind, what are you going to become?"

He was yelling now, his deep voice booming in the small room. Insolent bastard. How dared he raise his voice at me?

"My, my, my" I replied, my voice lowering into a hiss as his rose into a yell "scared Zabini?"

I watched feral rage twist his features in response, and I arched an eyebrow, a derisive smile pulling on my lips.

"If you don't like what I am becoming, by all means, look away." I smiled "But really, do you want to know what I think?" the smile slipped from my lips, my rage by far too strong to be subdued, "I think you're not scared I'll kill someone, you're scared I'll kill... you."

I stopped here, watching his agony with pleasure, unable to resist to cross that final line.

"You lowly little... coward."

In a flash, he jumped to his feet, slammed his big palms against the desk and leaned forward, getting in my face.
"Take. That. Back." Snarled he, each word just barely managing to slip past his grit teeth. "Do you really think this is about ME?"

His chest was rising quickly, smoke nearly coming out of his nostrils. Good.

"Besides," said he, his eyes burning with anger "I've known for a long time that you will be the death of me."

"Oh really? Then you must be more of a fool than I thought you were." I spoke, slowly, carefully, getting up from my seat, matching his posture. "Who do you think you are? How dare you call me out? I need nobody's advice, concern even less."

"Really?" boomed he, tilting his head, " I think you do need someone, because you've been alone by far too long! You're meddling with things that are way above your head! Like it or not, you're still only sixteen for fuck's sake!"

In that moment, the world turned a bloody shade of red.

"And you dare, even for a second, think I need YOU?" I heard a note of disgust appear in my words, but found myself too mad to mind it "Don't make me laugh you uncouth little brat! How dare you question your elder when you've just barely crawled out of nappies yourself!"

He opened his mouth to retort and then shut it tight, biting back whatever it was he wished to say. His jaw was clenched, his teeth grit, but he settled for only a glare in response. I knew I had struck a nerve there, and his silence only served to anger me more. I had never known his rage to be mute.

After a few moments more of this silent staring contest, our faces inches apart, his mouth twitched, silent words struggling to slip past his lips and ring across the room. I watched as he pressed his lips closed tightly, a fleeting grimace twisting his face. It was an expression of anger, yes, but beneath that, deeper than that, it was an expression of pain.

I looked away, the first to break eye contact, and took a step back, no more anger to cloud my judgement. I had wronged him again today, now finding my punishment unbefitting of the crime. What a wicked woman I was.

"Forgive me, I said too much" I spoke, careful to keep my voice levelled, "It has been a long day and my patience wears thin. I did not come here with the intention of insulting or belittling you, and if my words were to that effect..." I faltered here a bit, finding these words strange on my lips "I am sincerely sorry. Please, accept my heartfelt apologies."

I could not look at him as I uttered this, but now judged it best to meet his eyes, adding some weight to my request. I did so with considerable difficulty, my stomach tightening unpleasantly.

"Please" I said, lightly indicating with my hand towards the chair behind him. "have a seat."

He observed me for a moment longer; angry, but expressive eyes turning cold and guarded. With slightly narrowed eyes, he pushed himself off the table lightly, drawing himself up to full height, towering over me more in this distance than he had been minutes before, when his face was an inch from mine.
It occurred to me, as I stood in that cold room, that I had never felt so small and exposed in all my life.

Slowly, as if the action served no other purpose than to punish my person, he once again took a seat in his chair, his eyes never leaving mine.

I let out a small, imperceptible breath, looking away for a moment as I too sat back down. I raised my hands, folding them in my lap, my back pressed tightly against the back of the chair and my feet several inches above ground.

"I should like to think" I said, my eyes briefly meeting his before quickly glancing away, curious, but painful warmth spreading through my abdomen, rushing towards my chest "that neither of us had come here with the intention of showing the other any form of disrespect. Was there some other matter you wished to talk about?"

My gaze was fleeting, once or twice wandering to his lips but rising no higher, wandering to the side in the next moment. If he would only stop staring.

Blaise was silent for the longest moment, before replying in an odd, guarded voice.

"Indeed. I have come here with only one purpose in mind... to report to my Queen." he stressed that last word, as if it held some different, private meaning. "I came to tell you that it is done."

I looked up, surprised out of my discomfort.

"Draco is yours."

At last, a victory. I closed my eyes for a moment, yet kept my features schooled in the picture of indifference. In reality, I was much relieved. For in the absence of the Queen, the House would follow their Prince.

Of course, this new development would soon give rise to many troublesome matters. But tonight, I would deal with only one. The first one. The most important one.

He had completed his part of the deal.

I looked up, pushing past all discomfort, setting aside all nervousness. For the first time that night, remembering that I was an heiress.

"I thank you for your efforts , they have been most appreciated. " I watched as his eyes narrowed, his head tilting to the side, displaying the first hints of anger "With this, you have upheld your part of our business arrangement."

"What does that mean" snapped he in reply, each word resembling a snarl more and more "what are you saying Rose?"

"It means that there is no more reason for us to cooperate." I replied, my tone void of any emotion. It would not do for me to lose my temper again.

"Is that so? " snarled he, sitting at the edge of his seat. "As far as I recall Rosey, our deal was somewhat different. You are to be my eyes and ears, listen to conversations I have no access to and notice the affiliations made away from my reach."

He had been expecting this, I realized with a slight start. He had quoted me word for word.

"Indeed. And I consider your end fulfilled. There are no other matters that would necessitate your exclusive assistance."

"You are awful quick to replace me Rose" snapped he, clenching and unclenching his fist. "but Draco does not have my connections or my skills. He wouldn't... perform."

For some reason, I was not quite sure we were still talking about espionage.

"Perhaps I should have been more clear." I said, feeling like I had lost control over the conversation "There is nothing more that you could do for me, that others could not as well. And recently, you have become nothing but a weakness-"

I cut myself off mid-sentence, realizing my mistake immediately. His eyes widened, his alert mind picking up on my blunder instantly.

Bloody hell.

"A weakness?" echoed he, leaning forward, a wild gleam in his eyes.

"I-I meant a li-liability" I stuttered, fumbling over my words, stupidly admitting my guilt.

"How am I your weakness Rose?" asked he, and I looked down, observing the dark desk between us, my heart thundering in my chest.

"I meant a liability. It was a slip of the tongue, I-" he stood to his feet, placing his hands on the desk, leaning forward.

"Liar" said he in a deep voice, but without a hint of anger. He seemed amused. "You don't have slips of tongue Roseycheeks, we both know that. Come now, look up..."

Merlin, what have I done ?

I clenched my jaw, raising my chin and forcing myself to meet his gaze.
My heart jumped to my throat as I met deep, brown eyes. I need to leave. Now.

"That is all." I managed through grit teeth, standing up, careful to avoid any physical contact. I turned from him, walking towards the door, listening for footsteps, barely aware of where I was going.

"Thank you again" I heard myself speak, my eyes focused on the doorknob. I felt relief as my hand wrapped around the metal, only to have my breath catch in my throat, hearing loud, determined footsteps.

I opened the doors a creek, only to have them fly out of my hand, shutting closed with a loud bang. Two strong hands appeared on each of my sides, and Blaise stepped closer, his chest against my back, caging me in.

I took in a deep, surprised breath, my back tensing at the sudden contact.

"No." I heard him say, his head above mine, his breath soft against my hair "No more running. I've let you lead this dance for far too long. Tonight, I lead..."

I felt him shift his weight, my heart giving two strong beats and then skipping one altogether, beating frantically, completely out of my control. He lowered his head, bringing his lips an inch from my left ear.

"And you dance." His voice had gotten deeper, huskier. My hazy mind took notice, concluding that this made for quite a pleasant change. I remained silent, not finding a single thing to say. Bloody hell, he made it so hard to focus.

"I have some questions" he said, seemingly at ease "and you will tell me what I want to know, won't you Rosalind?"

The way he pronounced my name felt different, as if uttered by a foreigner. It also felt very... close. Intimate.

But he could not be allowed this much power. I did not know, I could not conceive what it was he intended to do, but I knew I would not yield easily.

"And if I do not?" I whispered, not trusting my voice.

He chuckled, amused at the prospect.

"Then, rosa mia, you really ought to remember who it is you are talking to." He spoke, his tone almost a purr "I have ways of making you talk."

I swallowed hard, unsure how to proceed. Naturally, I could not agree to his demand, but refusing him might prove equally perilous. What in the world was he threatening me with? All I knew was this: he was serious about it.

"Violence Zabini?" I said, somehow gathering enough fortitude to speak up "Surely you must understand that this could not possibly end well for you."

Somehow, I could not imagine him resorting to violence. Not against me.

"Ah yes, I should have known this would be your assumption." Replied he, laughter in his voice. "After all, violence has always been your method of choice. And you are ever so talented Rosey, some would even call you artistic."

He stopped here for a moment, before slowly following the length of my neck with his lips, always close to the fabric of my shirt, never quite touching. His breath was warm, easily passing through my shirt, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

My eyes fluttered closed of their own accord, my own lips pressed tightly together, lest some treacherous sound escape them. It was not exactly pleasant, but in the same time, I did not want him to stop.

"You know, I can't help but wonder if you'd be as talented in my art as you are in yours. I think you would be, I think you'd be in a league of your own. You know amore, people get awful chatty when they're experiencing great pain or... great pleasure."

Something stirred in me at those words, an unpleasant tightening just bellow my abdomen.

He stopped on my collarbone, but I dared not open my eyes, fully aware of how infernally ridiculous I was acting. He could not possibly see my expression. My eyes, however, knew what my mind did not. He did not need to.

"Now, the way I see it Rosalind, you have a choice. You can either tell me what I want of your own volition, or" he stretched the last word, enjoying the torture "I could persuade you to speak. Which will it be rosa mia?"

This room was too hot, the air too thin. It was very hard to breathe. Even harder to think.

And he was so close.

He had done things like this before; pinned me against the wall, brought his face within an inch of mine. But that was different. I was different.

He was different.

Every word, every movement echoed confidence. My eyes snapped open, involuntary shivers running down my spine. He had not been trying.

The flirting, the teasing, the almost kiss. I mistook it for seduction, when it was really just a game. A deep, forgotten instinct stirred at the bottom of my stomach, setting my cheeks aflame. He was done playing.

I finally understood what it was that he threatened me with. And in that moment, I was not sure I could resist him.

"What would you like to know?" I asked, my voice steady, unshaken. Much calmer than I felt.

He was silent for a moment, before moving again, whispering in passing.

"Wise choice."

He drew himself up to once again stand at full height, but his hands did not move.

"Why him?" he asked, keeping his head high above mine, for some reason choosing to address the doors, rather than me. His lips were no longer hovering by my ear, his breath no longer lingered on my skin. Blaise had put some distance between us, but my nerves were no better off for it.

My eyes wondered to his hands, pressed tightly against the doors on either side of my face. I observed his hands for a moment, tracing the long, nimble fingers , observing the veins protruding against the skin.

He would not let me leave.

"I-I am afraid I do not understand the question" I spoke, not able to think of a better response.

His fingers twitched against the door, but he took a moment more to clarify.

"Why… are you choosing him?" his voice was strained, choked, as if every word that passed his lips caused him physical pain.

What in the world could I tell him? How could I ease his pain when all I could promise is further torment?

My chest tightened, words fleeing from my lips. You are a precious existence. And I do not know how to keep you safe.

But Blaise seemed to have much more to say on the subject, finding words much easier than I did.

"What makes him so much better than me?" asked he, the fingers on his left hand twitching, rising, clawing at the doors as he spoke. My heart ached as I listened, each word leaving his lips loud with frustration; "Is it his money? Is it his reputation? The name? Please, Rose…"

He lowered his head to hang over mine, and I jumped a little in my place, making the tiniest step forward, having nowhere to go.

"Tell me. Is it really all about blood? Is it because I have foreign blood running in my veins? Please, Rose, I-"

He cut himself off mid-sentence, straining what was left of my nerves.

"I'll ask again. Tell me. You owe me at least that much." Said he, in a different, darker tone, sending a shiver down my spine "What are you going to do with him Rose?"

A heartbeat. One more.

"What will you let him do to you?"

My eyes were closed, my jaw was clenched. But I kept silent.

My hand, the wayward thing, twitched by my side. But it too was forced in submission. I had to stay still.

He thought that I would share Draco's bed.
There was a time when such words, such crude assumptions would have given rise to maddening rage in my heart. But now, they made me feel so small. So powerless. So wrong.

Blaise spoke in a whisper, but his words were screaming in my ears.

Still, I did not say a word.

He lowered his head once more, leaving his lips to hover an inch above my collar bone. His hand moved as well, sliding down the wood and moving closer to my shoulders. His towering figure easily enveloped mine.

I swallowed with some difficulty, frantically trying to make sense of this situation. My tie was suddenly fastened too tight, leaving me in want of air. My hand twitched again, even lifting a bit, meaning to undo the horrible cloth. I caught myself on time, pressing my hands tightly against my legs.

"Rose…" breathed he, the warm air tickling my skin "please…"

I did not know what he would ask, but I felt that I'd grant even the most impossible of requests. Ask what you will, I'd give you my soul.

"Please… don't do this." Whispered he, the words resembling a prayer "please… don't make me watch my best friend with the woman that I lo-"

He cut himself off mid-word, my heart nearly giving out on me. Don't say it. Please, even if I have shown you none, show me mercy.

"Why am I telling you this?" asked he, an odd edge to his voice "You already know."

He was silent for a moment, before raising his head, his lips once again lingering too close to my ear.

"I know that it was you who screamed."

No.

I took a step forward, away from his confining arms, putting as much distance between us as I possibly could. But I was not going to run. I spun on my heel, for the first time turning to face him.

I raised my gaze, my mouth opening to spout whatever lie first came to mind, only to meet an alien face. He had a strong, sharp jaw line and a lower lip slightly larger than the upper one. And those big, dark eyes were desire itself.

Heat rushed over me like a wave, flushing into my cheeks. I could not look away, and I did not want to try. Nothing in the world mattered anymore, no one else was important. He stepped closer, but it was not enough. Come closer.
The thought, so foreign, yet without a doubt mine, quickly sobered me.

I looked down, struggling to build what semblance of self-control I could.

His mind was much clearer than mine.

His left hand suddenly moved, from the wood of the door to the skin of my jaw. I shivered in spite of myself, my own body mocking me, finding pleasure in the coolness of his skin.

"No" murmured he, gently, but quite forcefully raising my chin, making me meet his gaze. "you can't lower your gaze. Tonight, look at me."

His voice was low, persuasive, inviting. Magnetic.

I could not deny it.

Once more, I looked up, willingly walking into the flames. He stared back for what could have been a minute or an hour, before lowering his head, his face inches from mine. His eyes left mine, travelling down my nose and settling on my lips. He hovered closer still, letting go of my chin, the tip of his nose brushing against mine.
I was breathing deeply, quickly, but my lungs could find no air.

"Rose…" whispered he, his breath betraying the barest hint of Butterbeer. His eyes flickered up to meet mine, "were you scared?"

I was not scared. Only terror could have made me scream.

"It wasn't me" I replied, my voice sounding strained even to my own ears. What use were such feeble lies?

He narrowed his eyes for a moment, a smile pulling on his lips.

"Is that right?" said he, thoroughly amused. He leaned closer, pressing his nose against mine, making me still in my place. I dared not breathe, for if I moved an inch, his lips would brush against mine.

He stayed like that for a moment more, before leaning back and reaching towards my neck. His fingers brushed against the collar of my shirt, leaving a feather soft touch on my skin.

I swallowed loudly, my heart hammering against my ribcage. What was he doing?

His fingers stopped on my tie, and he looked up, a confident smile lighting his face. That stunning, electric sensation appeared again, rattling what little composure I had left.

"Are you sure Rose? Won't you think again?"

A heartbeat, two. I did not know what to do. I couldn't think.

"It wasn't me who screamed. "

I glanced away, not knowing why I lied. Wouldn't this be over quicker if I just admit what he already knows?

He was silent for a moment, before letting out a deep, rumbling laugh.

"You are lying Rosalind" concluded he, "but I don't mind."

His voice dropped an octave, assuming a dark tone. That of a hunter.

"I shall simply have to make you talk"

His hands were suddenly gone from the wall, settling on the fabric of my tie. He stared in my eyes, a deep, foreign hunger preventing me from looking away. I could feel his hand tugging gently on the fabric, making short work of my tie, that had been so confining a minute before, and having the fabric slither down my shirt and to the floor.

"I can be very… persuasive." Spoke he with a wicked grin. He looked away, finally relinquishing whatever odd power he had over my eyes.

Before I had time to protest, his fingers unbuttoned my collar and the first button on my shirt. I took a deep, surprised breath, my nostrils filling with an odd musky scent. It was reminiscent of some wooden scent, with hints of Firewhisky.

Cold air met my warm skin, distracting me presently. My chest was heaving, my abdomen uncomfortably tight.

Blaise stopped moving for a moment, before reaching to the ends of my shirt, tugging lightly and exposing my neck. He leaned forward, bringing his lips to my collarbone, stopping just before he reached my skin.

"Do you honestly think…" murmured he against my neck, his breath much hotter than it should have been "that you can fool me?"

"Rosa… " he murmured against my skin, his lips nearly brushing my skin, moving to the centre of my neck. "I didn't see the bludger."

I stopped breathing altogether for a moment. That is not possible.

"I was hanging upside down, holding on for dear life, I could not turn around." He was talking to my neck, but I was hanging on to every word "But you sounded so scared… I let go on instinct. If it had been anyone else, I would have never let go."

He let out a deep breath, tickling me.

"I never thought your voice could go so high…" he sounded pleased. His lips moved up as he spoke, tracing the length of my neck, travelling towards my jaw. His breath was warm against my skin, his lips infernally close, but never touching. Yet as his lips reached the middle of my neck, the warmth changed to an odd, ticklish sensation, as if ants were crawling beneath my skin, spreading deeply into my flesh and sending a curious itch to my mouth.

I shivered lightly in spite of myself, and his lips stopped moving, lingering on my skin. Blaise did nothing for the barest of moments, before letting out a slow, deliberate, hot breath. I pressed my lips tightly shut, my fingers clawing at my legs in an effort to keep still as thousands upon thousands of ants spread through the skin of my neck, climbing to my mouth and spreading through the inside of my cheek.

"Here?" murmured Blaise, and leaned closer, his hair brushing against my chin. I closed my eyes, taking quick, short breaths, feeling as though my heart would jump out of my chest. It was thundering, he could surely hear it.

Something soft and warm, very warm, touched the skin of my neck. My eyes snapped open, my hazy mind finally catching up.

Blaise was still for a moment, before removing his hands from the wood of the doors. But instead of allowing them to fall to his side, he lowered them to mine, covering my hands with his palms. He tugged gently, forcing me to let go of my legs, never once raising his lips from my neck, breathing slowly, steadily. He let go of my hands, only to place his palms on my hips, grabbing a hold and pulling his body closer to mine.

I took in a surprised, shaky breath, the skin of my hips set aflame.

Blaise took in another, small breath, before his lips moved, parting slightly, the feather-like touch vanishing. Instead, he sucked lightly on my skin, giving rise to a sensation much akin to a tickle, but infinitely more pleasant. My eyes closed, slight trembles appearing in my hands. For some reason, he grasped my hips tighter, pulling me into his body, sucking just a little bit harder.

I swallowed with some difficulty, the air that I had inhaled catching somewhere between my throat and lungs. For some reason, Blaise stopped, lifting his lips from my skin. One more slow intake of breath, and he drew himself up to full height, raising his hands from my hips.

Once again, he placed his palms on the doors behind me, one on each side. My heart was hammering in my chest, my lungs could find no air. I did not know what he had done, but, much to my embarrassment, I had enjoyed every second.

"Rosa..." called he, his voice low, intoxicating. I looked up, bidden to do so with only one word.

His eyes were dark, somehow darker than before, his pupils dilated. Stunning, electrical pressure rose in my chest as I met his gaze, drowning all coherent thought.

His hand moved somewhere to my right, and he raised it to my chin, the tips of his fingers gently caressing my cheek. His eyes travelled to my lips, then back to my eyes, lingering there for the longest moment, before travelling left, to my cheek.
"I'll remember that spot..." purred he, watching his fingers, their light, feather like touch evoking goose bumps on my skin. "study it... "

His fingers stopped, his hand moving from my face, his fingers reaching for a strand of my hair. He ran it through his fingers, a shadow of distraction appearing on his face.

Merlin, I thought, observing the line of his jaw, would it be so wrong to live in these arms?

"Morbidi" murmured he, before his eyes suddenly darted back to mine. He reached back, tucking that hair behind my ear. "You have the softest hair..." murmured he, before leaning in slowly, stopping an inch before he reached my lips. My eyes fell to his lips on their own, summoning a confident smirk to the corners of his mouth. "did you know?"

He hovered there for a moment, before leaning left, bringing his lips an inch from my earlobe.

"Rosalind..." purred he "this attraction, this heat, electricity..."

My heart stopped beating in my chest. Merlin, he could feel it too.

"Desire... I have never felt anything like it before. It cannot be one-sided. It cannot. Impossibile. Or I am completely mental. Tell me I am not. Tell me I am sane."

His voice was deep, ringing in my ears, pervading every thought. But a shadow crept up on me, cloaking my heart.

"Tell me you can feel it too. Tell me you want me too."

Ice-like cold blossomed in my chest, spreading through every pore of my skin.

They'll take you from me. They will kill you too.

My eyes wandered down, past his lips, neck, settling on his chest.

Not again. Not you too.

My mouth opened, but I could not utter a word. I closed them again, swallowing a lump that formed in my throat. I felt something so small, so vulnerable, so new, something settled deep in my heart and woven into every fibre of my being, shiver, slowly dying.

Once again, my lips parted, trembling in protest against the venom that would leave them, but I spoke up none the less.

"You're wrong..." I mumbled in a faint voice, feeling a sudden wave of nausea.

I felt him stiffen by my side, listening intently.

My heartbeat, so thunderous mere minutes before, turned into a whimper. If only I had had the fortune of dying before this moment ever happened.

"I don't feel anything."

Blaise was still for a moment, before sighing.

"Ah Rosa..." murmured he, moving back to observe my face, not believing a single word. "I thought we were beyond such feeble lies..."
He reached a hand to my face, but I shied away from his touch, turning my face away from him.

Something stung in the back of my eyes, a choking sensation arising in my throat.

"Rose..." spoke he, an odd, almost worried tone to his voice. "look at me."

I kept my eyes trained on the wall to out left, clenching my jaw.

There was a moment of silence, each second that ticked by a new, torturous eternity.

"Say that again."

His tone turned serious, his body tense. Preparing for a fight.

Merlin. Will he grow to hate me? How could he not. How could he not resent the woman who broke his heart.

"I don't feel anything when you touch me."

This woman, this cruel, venomous woman that spoke with my tongue, that used my voice, sounded so calm.

"What a poor lie." He spoke, the first hints of anger appearing in his voice. He hovered closer, leaning towards my face. "Then why are you so out of breath?"

I turned to face him, watching passion turn to rage, and affection to pain.

"The room is too hot." I replied.

"Liar" hissed he, feeling something ominous in the air." Your hands were freezing ten minutes ago."

"I am not lying. Your attention is making me uncomfortable. Please," I spoke, meeting his gaze "let me leave."

"No." Growled he, anger twisting his face into a feral expression. Like a wounded animal, snarling its last. "Don't fucking lie! We both know I'd be half across the bloody room, bruised and bloody, if you hadn't liked every. Single. Thing. I. Did."

He leaned closer, pressing his nose against mine, his lips an inch from mine.

"Shall I do more?" his hands were on the wall, his body pressed against mine. He knew I could not reach my wand. "Say Rose, what would I lose if I kissed you now?"

"Excuse me?" I asked, feeling strangely numb. After tonight, I truly had nothing to lose.

"Arm? Leg? Perhaps something more private?" snarled he, "What would I lose for a single kiss? I'd give an arm and a leg for a single taste of your lips. I've been wanting to do this for a long time. Shall I?"

"You won't" I replied, confident of my words.

"I won't?" repeated he, a mocking note to his words. "And why will I be so considerate?"

"Because I don't want you to." I said.

"How gentlemanly of me" mocked he, an angry smirk pulling on his lips "Perhaps I am not the man you think I am. Let's find out."

He leaned closer, but did nothing more. A moment more and he leaned back, slamming his palms against the wooden surface behind me.

"Fuck!"

"You are exactly the kind of man I thought you are." I said, a thousand knives piercing my heart, cutting it to tiny, unusable bits. I wanted to hug him, to live encased by this arms. But I could not.

I loved him too much to put his life in such peril.

"I don't feel anything for you." I spoke "and never will."

"No, no, no, no" repeated he again and again, conveying his desperation. His pain. He tried to meet my gaze, but I could not look him in the eye.

You too would leave me. Why then, are you struggling so hard to stay?

"And neither do you." I spoke and he suddenly stopped, stilling in his place "You do not feel what you think you feel."

"NO!" yelled he, his words ringing in the quiet, sombre room "You don't get to do that. Just because you don't feel what I do, just because you can never feel it, you don't fucking get to dismiss my feelings! Fuck!"

He stopped, looking to the side before he violently turned back, getting in my face. "Don't you dare. Don't you fucking dare! Not even you have that right Rosalind!"

His words were loud, but they could not reach me. I could not stop now. I would not take him with me to the grave.

"We do not belong together" I said, dying more with every word. The world truly took all it could from me. "We can never be together. I am a flame, burning brightly in the dead of the night. You are a moth, attracted by the glow. But if you near me, only death awaits you."

"Please..." I said, watching pain, sorrow, rage and desperation twist his face. He aged five years in five seconds. "if you care for me as much as you claim... let me go. Let me be free."

I raised my hand, for the very first time reaching for the face. I placed my open palm on his face, feeling the warmth deal the final blow and allowing myself a short moment of honesty.

"If I can ask one last favour..." I spoke, watching as his hand rose from his side. "forgive me."

I retracted my hand, reaching for the door knob. He stepped back, leaving me just enough space to turn around, and slip through the doors.

As they closed behind me, I heard a dull, loud sound and I knew he had slammed his fist into the doors. I walked, haunted by the betrayal in his eyes, and I could have sworn I heard the sound of his heart shattering. So that it would not be lonely, I took my heart from my chest, laying it in the midst of the shatters.

I had nothing left. Not even a heart.