Chapter 4

Zoe

Somehow, my second day in potions ends up being worse than my first.

Our table is full again, besides the single stool left open for me. When I walk through the classroom door, I meet Blaise's eyes - which are somehow smirking at me, even though his mouth is not - and quickly glance away. Hopefully, I won't have to endure any sort of interaction with him in the next hour.

Unfortunately, I'm wrong.

"Good morning, students." Slughorn says, standing cheerily behind his desk. "I hope you're all ready to learn today! And don't forget - you're being dismissed early from first period to take preliminary exams in second period!"

There's a collective grumble from the class, low and tired. Flint shoots me a cheeky grin from across the table, which I return with a small wave.

"Great! Today, I'll be having you work with partners to cook up a Forgetfulness Potion - one of my favorites, actually - erases the memory to a certain extent. I'd like to observe how all of you work with each other on this fine morning!"

Partners?

I can't help but feel a little scared about this - both nervous and relieved. This time, I'll at least have a little help on the potion, but I'm anxious to see who Slughorn will pair me up with.

He begins to call out carefully selected pairs of names, and students either sigh with irritation or squeal excitedly when they hear who they'll be working with.

"Miss Fletcher, how about you go with..." Slughorn trails off, glancing around the room, "Mister Zabini!"

My heart spasms.

Blaise?

I know Slughorn thinks that he's good at potions and all, but isn't there somebody else I could work with that'd be just as helpful? Blaise doesn't even let me do anything - he just forces me to sit still and watch, so it's not like I learn anything when I'm working with him, anyways. He really seems to dislike me, too. Out of all the Slytherins I've met, Blaise has most certainly been the rudest to me.

My shoes feel like they're filled with lead as I drag my stool over to his side of the table.

Blaise is whispering to the stocky boy seated next to him, his face tight with irritation. I'm positive that he's talking about me. His voice is hissy and low, but I'm sure that I pick up on, "so fucking stupid...don't understand...can't stand her..."

I feel my blood begin to boil.

I don't understand what I've done to deserve this - I've barely even spoken to Blaise, yet he feels the need to be so unbelievably cruel to me. I decide to try and talk to him as little as possible from now on.

"Are you going to get your book out, or what?" A low voice snaps.

I glance up, startled, to see Blaise staring at me with impatience.

"Yes." My voice is short, and a little bit hot, too. I reach down into my bag, fishing around until I find my potions textbook. I make a point of slamming it down on the table, but he doesn't seem to notice.

"He's an ass, Zoe." Flint calls from down the table, evidently listening in on our unpleasant conversation. "Don't let him bother you. You're a Slytherin, too, just like the rest of us."

I am trying to figure out what Flint means by this when Blaise decides to pipe up again.

"Is she though?" He says, not bothering to look up as he thumbs through the pages of his textbook. "Like, what's her bloodtype? Everyone knows that any half-decent Slytherin is at least a pureblood."

My head snaps in Blaise's direction.

"Excuse me?"

He glances up at me, unbothered. "What's your bloodtype, Fletcher? If you're such a Slytherin."

I feel my cheeks flush with heat. I don't know what my bloodtype is, because I don't know who my parents are. I'm not even entirely sure what a pureblood is, but I decide that it must be something of high status, considering the way that Blaise is preaching it.

"I don't know." I admit. My voice is much quieter than it was a few moments ago.

Blaise, the stocky boy, and even Flint look at me with disbelief. I find myself wishing I would've never opened my mouth.

"How the hell can you not know?" Blaise asks. He is leaning into me now. "Or are you just lying, because you're not pureblood?"

I jerk back from him, my heart racing. "I-I don't-"

"You don't what? Spit it out, Fletcher."

So I do.

"I don't know who my parents are."

The entire table goes completely and utterly silent for one intense, excruciating heartbeat of a moment. Blaise is stiff, Flint is gaping. Then, all hell breaks loose.

"What the hell, asshole." Flint is rigid with anger, reaching across the table and yanking at the sleeve of Blaise's robe. "Do you ever shut the fuck up? She clearly didn't want us to know that."

A few students from other tables have turned to watch the commotion, but it doesn't seem to bother either of them.

"Shut up, Flint. I want to hear about this." Blaise says carelessly. "Why don't you know them? You know, your parents. Did something happen to them?"

There is nothing wicked or vile evident on his face anymore; if I didn't know better, I might say he just looked curious. But I do know better - he is only pretending to be interested just so he can get more information out of me, which means more that he can use to make fun of me.

I quickly look down at my lap as I feel the sting of tears surfacing in my eyes. I don't want to cry in front of anyone here, especially Blaise - that would only give him satisfaction. I let my hair fall over my face, hoping that it will do its job well and hide me.

No such luck.

"Are you crying?" Blaise sounds confused. He is very close to me now - I can see him through the wet blur out of the corner of my eye.

Right then, the bell rings, preventing me from having to answer. I shove my books in my bag and burst towards the door before Blaise can squeeze in another word.

As I streak down the corridor, the tears begin to spill out of my eyes. I force my head down towards my feet so nobody will catch sight of me. Yet again, I've allowed myself to get humiliated in front of my fellow Slytherins. I didn't have to answer Blaise's question, but I did, and now he's going to use everything I said to insult me.

My first class has just ended, and I'm already dying to be back up in my dorm, surrounded by the protective walls of my four-poster. Even better, I'd like to be at the floral shop back home. It's just past eight o'clock, which means at this time, I'd be perched on a wooden crate with a hot mug of tea, talking lightly with my grandpa as he opened up shop for the morning.

The thought makes my heart ache with both desire and misery, and I have to give myself a mental slap. I'm supposed to be enjoying Hogwarts - my grandpa put so much money and work into this that I feel guilty not to be.

It's then that it happens - I crash into something, tall and sturdy. I think for a moment that I may have actually bumped into a wall until I look up and see a spindly boy positioned in front of me.

"You need to watch where you're going." He says, and the first thing I notice about him is that his voice is unbelievably dark, sneering.

He's of great height, with a dark swoop of hair, abnormally pale skin, and blue eyes like a snake's - sinister and watchful. I notice that he's wearing a Slytherin badge, and wonder why I haven't seen him before.

"Sorry." I manage to squeak out, and then dart away from the boy as quickly as possible.

Though the encounter only lasted a few moments, I can't seem to shake the feeling of chilled dread from my bones. Clearly, this is no run-of-the-mill asshole. He wasn't obtrusive and dickish like Blaise, but rather cold and dark. I try to ignore the shiver that clasps onto my spine, and hope to never see the strange boy again.

***

The rest of the day drags itself by on all fours - a slow, torturous crawl. Luckily, Eric and Stevie have agreed to meet me by the black lake after classes again. This time, I decide to invite Seamus along.

When I make it down to the lake, the three of them are already there waiting for me. I have to introduce Stevie to Seamus, but not Eric, who already knows everyone and their mother.

"So, how was the second day?" Stevie asks, rolling her quill between her thumb and forefinger. "Any better than the first?"

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. I don't want to lie to them, but I also don't want to have to sheepishly reveal the truth.

I decide to stick with the latter.

"It was not the best." My voice is so quiet it's almost inaudible. Eric hears it anyways.

"What? Why?" He sounds almost offended. "Spill it, girl."

I let an exasperated sigh blow past my lips. "Blaise wasn't too great again today. He asked me about my parents."

Both Eric and Stevie's jaws drop in horror. Seamus shoots me a puzzled look, but decides to leave it be for now, which I'm thankful for.

"That shithead." Eric seethes. "Did you tell him?"

I look down at my lap, not wanting to answer this. "Yes. I don't want to talk about it, though."

"That's alright." Stevie says. "Did anything else happen?"

She is trying to change the subject, and I'm grateful for it. It's then that I remember the encounter with the dark boy in the corridor.

"Well, yeah. I bumped into this guy in the hall after potions, and he gave me a bit of a creepy vibe."

Almost immediately, Eric's eyes bulge in horror. "What did he look like?"

I describe the boy with the dark hair, corrupt eyes, and stark flesh.

Eric shrieks. "Julian Tines!"

"Who?"

"You have a lot to learn, Zoelle." He shakes his head at me. "That was definitely Julian Times you bumped into - the most evil and absent-hearted snake to crawl up from hell's deepest and darkest pits."

Julian did seem a little off to me, but I wouldn't go so far as to deem him a product of the underworld. Eric is infamous for his outlandish descriptions, so I figure that he must be exaggerating a little bit.

"He's not kidding, Zoe." Seamus chips in when he catches the look on my face. "Julian is nobody to be messed with. He's done some fucked up, shady shit. And for no good reason, too."

I don't bother asking about what Julian's done - I don't really want to know. The air suddenly feels colder against my skin.

"Second day, and you've already run into trouble with Blaise Zabini and Julian Tines."

I nod absentmindedly, my eyes focused on the water in a milky trance. What Eric said is proving to be true - I certainly don't fit in well with the Slytherins.

I'm just going to have to try to steer clear from Blaise from now on if I want to survive the year.

***

My plans to avoid Blaise at all costs are immediately soiled the moment I walk into the common room after dinner.

Seamus and I had stayed out past curfew, quietly chatting in the library, so I didn't expect to see anyone in the Slytherin common room upon my late return.

Unfortunately, I was wrong.

Blaise has taken residence on a dark leather couch towards the center of the room, his arms splayed across the back of the thing. He isn't facing me, so I pray that he won't notice me as I creep up the stairs and out of sight.

It's not even a few seconds after I take my first steps into the room that he calls out from the couch.

"Going somewhere, Fletcher?"

Away from you, I think to myself, but decide not to repeat it aloud. That would only provoke him into being rude to me again. I'm not even sure how he noticed me, but I feel disappointment weighing down on my chest as the words leave his mouth. I thought I'd been quiet.

Reluctantly, I decide to plod over to the couch and take a seat beside him. His fingers are almost touching my shoulder, so I edge as close to the armrest as physically possible.

"Well, shit." He says, gazing into the fire, "I didn't tell you to come sit by m-"

"Why are you such an asshole to me?" The words have left my mouth before I can stop them.

Blaise turns his head towards me, completely sideways. He looks as though he cannot possibly believe what I've just said. "What?"

"Ever since the train - and I know you remember that - you've been a complete dick to me, and I don't know why. I've never done anything to you. I haven't hurt you. I don't understand why you're so rude to me."

Blaise turns back to the fire, quickly regaining his airy demeanor. "Maybe I'm just not the nicest guy, Zoe. Ever considered that?"

It's the first time he's called me by my real name, and I'm surprised he even knows it. There's something menacing in his eyes - an unspoken warning.

"Well, obviously you're not. But I haven't seen you be as terrible to anyone else as you are to me."

"And?"

My chest is getting hot now. I feel my eyes narrow - something I tend to do when I feel angry. There's something Blaise isn't telling me - I'm sure of it.

"And why did you ask me about my parents today in potions? It's not any of your concern what happened to them." I'm trying to change the topic, now.

Blaise throws me an unflattering look, and rises from the couch, neglecting to answer. "Maybe it's none of your concern why I asked. Thanks for wasting my time."

With that, he quickly strides towards the staircase, and disappears up to the boys' dormitories.

I am left alone on the leather couch, gap-jawed, the quiet sound of the fire crackling now my only company.

Blaise's rudeness is shocking to me - I find it almost hard to believe that somebody can be so cold and bitter. I have to remind myself that not all Slytherins are like this. Flint seems nice, at least.

Eric's words from the former day make a quick run through my mind - something about not getting my hopes up - and I scoff to myself.

I would never, not in a million years, hope for a person as sour as Blaise.