Chapter 9

Zoe

The following day is mostly Blaise-free.

He chooses to ignore me in all of our classes together, besides Potions, during which he only utters one word to me ("okay"). I'm not one to complain, but I find myself wishing that he'd talk to me a little bit more simply because of what happened last night.

I'd already felt foolish enough being tutored by him, and when I'd started to cry, it almost seemed as if he was being...gentle. Caring, maybe. That would surprise me, because he hasn't shown an inkling of sympathy to me or anybody else since I met him. Unfortunately, we're not meeting again tonight, so I won't be able to coax an explanation out of him until he decides to speak to me again. Something tells me that he knows I'll try to, and that's why he's avoiding me - because he doesn't want to give one.

I'm housed up in the Slytherin common room that night, bent over a Transfiguration study guide when Flint approaches me.

"Hey, Zoe." He's wearing a crooked, friendly grin.

Instantly, Blaise's words from a few nights back begin to reel through my mind.

Stay away from Flint. He's not who you think he is.

They feel like a dense migraine inside of my head. I remind myself that out of the two of them, Flint has been much kinder to me. Deciding to brush away what Blaise said, I scoot over on the couch, making room for Flint.

"Hey." I smile back, patting the freshly open seat. "Sit down."

He slides down next to me. His face reads anticipation, excitement, and restlessness.

"So," He says, his voice honey-thick with elation, "I have something to ask you."

I raise an eyebrow at him, try to control a grin. How can Blaise hate him so much?

"Fire away."

"Well," Flint begins, "every year at the end of September, the Slytherins throw a huge party for six and seventh years in the common room. I figured I'd tell you, in case you want to come this year and - "

"I don't think she should go."

Blaise has materialized next to us, settled into an armchair left of the couch. Flint's sentence cuts off - neither of us had heard him coming. The common room is live with warmth and chatter, but not where we're sitting.

"What?" I can hear the anger, the frustration in my own voice.

"Drugs, hard alcohol..." Blaise trails off, and then his eyes meet mine. "You. They don't go well together."

I scoff impatiently. "What the hell are you doing? You haven't talked to me the entire day, and now you show up out of nowhere, pretending to be all concerned about my safety? That's bullshit, Blaise."

I feel like shoving him, or slapping the cool look off of his face. My chest is inflating with anger, causing me to speak up like I hadn't had the strength to do a few days ago. Maybe I'm finally becoming comfortable with my housemates.

"I'm just saying. Nothing good happens at those parties, Zoe."

"Everyone goes." Flint interjects. His lips are pressed together in a pissy line, his face hot and tense. "I can make sure nothing happens to her."

Blaise gives Flint a venomous glance - something I've noticed he does when he has nothing left to say.

"I can handle myself." I snap. "I don't need protection from either of you."

Blaise goes silent for a moment. Then, he shrugs, dismissing the matter.

"Fine. I don't give a shit if you go, anyways. But you won't fit in with the people that do." He draws to his full height, and strides away.

"What the hell." I am fuming as I turn to Flint. "What was that?"

He shrugs. "I don't know, that's just how he is. Anyways, my offer still stands. Get back to me about it."

With a quick wink, he rises to his feet and heads off towards a group of sixth years on the opposite side of the room.

***

"So, how was your day?" Seamus asks, and fingers at his chin quizzically. "Knight to E7."

The small black pawn slides across the chess board, stopping right in front of my bishop. He draws his sword, and in one fierce hacking motion, the board is littered with choppy pieces of white stone.

"Damnit." I curse, giggling at myself. "I'm horrible at this."

"I just taught you how to play yesterday. Don't go too hard on yourself." Seamus says.

The two of us are in the library again - a late night outing that's turned into weekly tradition. It's true that he taught me how to play wizard chess only a day ago, but no matter how many times he explains certain rules or trick moves, I can't seem to get it.

"My day was pretty good, by the way." I say, finally answering his question. Then, I feel a devious grin creeping onto my lips. "I got invited to something."

"And what would that be?"

"Pawn to D5." I say, and the white figurine slides to the spot. "Flint told me to come. It's a party in the Slytherin common room - there's one at the beginning of every year, apparently."

As I give my explanation, his jaw drops in complete shock and horror.

"You can't be serious."

I give an uncomfortable laugh. "Surely you're joking, Seamus. It's just a party."

But he's not.

His hand sweeps across the table, and the wizard chess board and all of its pieces go clattering to the floor. I jump in my chair, startled.

"What are you doing?"

"If Flint invited you to that party then he doesn't give a shit about you, Zoe."

"It's just a party, Seamus." I am barely whispering. His livid anger has come as a nasty shock to me. "What could go wrong?"

Seamus stands up, grasps the edge of the table, and leans into me, almost as if he means to tip the whole thing back. I look anywhere but his eyes.

"I'll tell you exactly what could go wrong." He fumes. "Last year, a girl got taken advantage of by three guys at that party. They got her plastered, took her up to the dorms, and...you know."

I stare down at my lap harshly, unsure of what to do. My heart is pounding so rapidly and I feel so horribly uncomfortable under Seamus's intense glare. This isn't the guy I met in Charms several weeks ago - it's someone completely different. At the same time, I'm wondering why the hell Flint didn't tell me this earlier.

I have a sudden urge to get as far away from him as possible, and frantically stuff my books into my bag. I can't even manage to bid him goodbye before I make a run for the door, my satchel sandwiched between my folded arms.

Right now, I just want to be alone.

***

As I stumble my way back down to the dungeons, I pray that Seamus hasn't decided to pursue me.

I turn a corner, and ram right into something - or someone - tall and buff. When I look up, my heart sinks.

Blaise.

"Fletcher." I don't dare meet his eyes. "You're out late. Need a hand?"

I reject his outstretched arm as he offers to help me up from the ground. I'd suffered quite a fall when the two of us collided, while he'd barely faltered back an inch.

"Why didn't you tell me that a girl got assaulted at that party last year?"

The words have left my mouth in a flurry of fury before I can stop them.

His face falls, but just for a moment. "Well, it wasn't my place. I'm not the one who invited you."

"You could've at least given me a heads up." I am fuming now, maybe even more than Seamus was. I know it's wrong to cast the blame on Blaise, but I'm so flustered that I can't help it.

"I did." He says matter-of-factly. "I warned you against going, but you didn't want to listen. Besides, the guys who did it were seventh years - they're gone now."

I can feel frustration towards him building in my chest, and I don't know why. I just want to be by myself. Drowning in my own emotions, I manage to utter one last sentence to him.

"Leave me alone, Blaise."

And with that, I storm off back towards the Slytherin common room.