Chapter 23

Blaise

I've never dreamt about killing someone before.

Last night, I couldn't sleep, and honestly, I hadn't really wanted to. Sure, I went up to my dorm, turned the lights off, and laid in my four poster, but I had no intentions of sleeping.

I laid in bed all night, furious. I didn't move, not once - it felt like the muscles inside me had turned to cement. I wanted to punch something - preferably Marcus Flint.

The image of him on top of Zoe replayed through my mind like a broken record. His hands pressed against her, the way she looked so afraid beneath him. It was like when you're driving on the freeway and you see a gruesome car crash. Bodies bent at strange angles, flashing lights. As much as you want to forget it, the memory will haunt you for days to come, because you can't forget something like that. Just like I can't forget about what happened to Zoe. Flint knew exactly what he was doing, and he didn't think twice about stopping.

Around six o'clock the next morning, my eyes closed from pure exhaustion. My body had been a tense mess for hours, and no matter how much I tried to resist sleep, it overtook me anyways.

That's when I had the dream about killing Flint. It was quick - me and him, a flash of green light. It frightens me to know that I'm capable of thinking about that. I may be a dick sometimes, but I'm not a killer. And I don't want to kill Flint - I just want to beat his ass as close to death as I possibly can.

I've never been a person who couldn't control my anger. Most of the times, I'm very good at keeping it stuffed within me. But after what Flint did to Zoe, I don't know if I'll be able to hold myself back the next time I see him.

***

After Flint last night, Stevie and I had taken Zoe up to Stevie's dorm. She'd been hysterical, and we'd practically had to drag her through the corridors. After that, I was instructed not to come anywhere near the Ravenclaw tower until Zoe was well again. When Stevie told me this, I was fuming. I'd been the one to find Zoe, and what neither of them understood is that I do care about her. Sure, I made a bet at the beginning of the year, but I hadn't realized Flint would take it so seriously.

I wonder if Flint was trying to finally live out his part of the bet when he did what he did last night. The thought makes me hate myself. How could I have ever been so damn careless?

Anyways, despite what Stevie told me, I've already been up to the Ravenclaw tower three times today. Zoe is all I can think about, and I just want to know that she's okay.

The first time I go up, it's right after breakfast. Spiked up on coffee, I jolt up to Stevie's dorm. However, when I knock and ask if I can come in, she doesn't even open the door to answer me.

I go up again at lunch. Mostly to see Zoe, but also because Flint's just swaggered into the great hall and I don't want to get myself expelled by fighting him right now. This time, I ask very nicely if I can please come in just for a few minutes. Stevie steps in the hall and tells me to go back downstairs. I pace off, boiling with anger.

After a couple more hours pass, I decide to try one more time to see if Stevie will let me in.

"What, Blaise." Stevie breathes the words out when I knock on her door again.

I open my mouth and then close it again, at a loss for words. "I just need a few minutes."

"He's fine." A small voice answers from within the dorm. "I don't mind."

Stevie looks over her shoulder quizzically, and then back at me. I try to make myself look as calm as possible, even though that's the exact opposite of how I feel inside.

She opens the door: my queue to enter.

Zoe is propped up in Stevie's bed. Her face is mostly white, and there's a violet bruise on her arm that I assume is from Flint. I feel my blood begin to boil.

"Hey." I try to speak, but words seem to have escaped me. I'd been trying so hard to come see her all day that I hadn't though about what I'd say if I actually could. "I just want to talk."

"Ok." Zoe says, and glances over at Stevie. She's standing in the corner, watching me like a hawk. "Can we have a minute, Steve?"

Stevie gives a curt nod, and dismisses herself from the room. The door gives a soft click as it closes behind her.

And as I look at Zoe on the bed, all I can think about is that night in the common room when her lips were touching mine.

***

Zoe

Once Stevie is gone, I notice how tense Blaise is. It looks like he's trapped in a web of what could be anger, guilt, frustration, or any number of emotions that I'll never be able to figure out.

For a moment, it's silent. Neither of us know just what to say to the other.

"I'm sorry about Stevie." I finally say, and then add on, "I would've let you come in sooner, but I was asleep. She was just playing mother hen - you know, being protective and all that."

"It's okay."

More silence falls over us. Very slowly, Blaise runs a dark hand over his scalp. Then, his voice bursts from his lips like a bullet.

"I feel like this is my  fault, like all  of this is my fault. I should've never made that stupid bet with Flint, I shouldn't have provoked him all those times - shouldn't have left you down there alone, damnit -"

"Blaise, stop -"

"- feel like I could've done something, Zoe. I should've seen this coming, I know what kind of guy Flint is, he's always been that way - what the hell was I thinking -"

"Listen." I say firmly, and grab onto his forearm. It seems to get his attention; at my sudden touch, Blaise stands perfectly still and directs his gaze down at me. "It's not your fault, Blaise."

He looks appalled. "What do you mean it's not m-"

"I mean," I say, cutting him off, "that you made a bet. And you weren't thinking, and things got out of hand. But Flint would've done what he did whether or not you made a bet with him. So it wasn't your fault."

He thinks for a moment, his eyes narrowing. "Yeah, well that's not how I see it. I just feel shitty about the whole thing. I don't think I'll ever not feel shitty about it."

"Well I'm fine with it now." I say, and I'm not lying. "It happened. Now it's done. I was overreacting when I found out about it, I think. Because you didn't know me, and maybe you weren't being serious."

Blaise looks at me again. When his deep bronze eyes connect with mine, my breath becomes uneven. I wonder why I am picturing his hands all over me.

"He won't come near you again, Zo. Not even fucking close." He says darkly, drawing me from the images flickering through my mind. "Not as long as I'm around."

"Okay." I say smally. Before all of this, I'd wanted to believe that Flint was good and Blaise was bad (mostly because Blaise is brutally honest and a dick, and often told me how terrible Flint was). All this time, I'd been ignoring what I know is the truth: there is something good in Blaise. I don't know what it is quite yet, but I can sense it. Something tells me that his rudeness, his coldness, is a cover-up for something deep inside him.

For now, I decide to discard this thought and speak again.

"I couldn't come to quidditch practice last night because I'd been poisoned." I confess to him. "I know about the letter Stevie and Eric wrote you, and I know they didn't tell you what happened to me -- so I'm telling you now. Someone poisoned my drink in the Great Hall that night. Madame Pomfrey was able to cure me, but Dumbledore thinks there's a good chance it was the same person who was standing outside the Slytherin girls' dorms with a knife. That means that someone is out to get me, and I don't know why."

Blaise bites his lip. If it weren't for the look in his eyes, I'd assume that he was calm, relaxed - maybe even that he didn't care about what I'd just told him. But no matter how hard he tries to conceal his emotions, I've learned to look for them in his eyes - and right now, they're filled with worry.

"And it's not Flint. He's not the one behind the poisoning, or the knife thing, I don't think." I say. "He just wanted to take me for his own. He never tried to...hurt me like that."

"...If you say so. But he's still a piece of shit, and he's still dangerous for you." Blaise says. Then, he offers me an unsure smile. "Hogwarts is a safe place though, Zoe. You're going to be okay here."

My eyes flicker down to my lap.

I want to believe Blaise. I want to acknowledge that his words are true, and to let them dissolve my fears. But it seems as though he's just saying them to comfort me, and he himself doesn't even believe them. 

No matter how much of a strong front I put on, I'm still afraid. Afraid of the cold and nameless person who wants to hurt me, afraid of Flint.

Hogwarts is  supposed to be the safest place in the world.

Right now, I don't feel that way.

***

Later that night, once Blaise is gone and the sun has sunken below the horizon, I convince Stevie to take me back to the Slytherin common room.

The thought of seeing Flint again frightens me, but I'm praying that he isn't in there. I'm tired of being cooped up in one room, and I need to feel the warmth of a fire against my skin.

The journey to the dungeons is a long one. My legs feel sluggish from a day's worth of immobility, and the stone floor is hard beneath my feet.

When we make it to the common room, it's packed and filled with late-night chatter. To my relief, Flint is nowhere in sight. I notice that Blaise isn't there, either - I feel as though I'd be able to recognize his dark, yet quiet figure anywhere.

We've barely taken three steps in the room when someone tall and slender rises from an armchair in the corner.

"You aren't looking so well, Zoelle." A cold voice drawls. The numerous conversations in the room slowly come to a halt, and all heads turn towards the mysterious speaker. It's none other than Julian. "But, let's be honest - who can blame you? I've heard about what you've been through the past few days. How - traumatizing - that must've been."

I haven't encountered Julian in awhile, and I've forgotten how just the sight of him turns the blood in my veins to ice. His rhythmic paces forward, his pale and waxy skin, the sinister smile he always wears - everything about Julian is precise and calculated, as if he spends hours planning his every move.

"Marcus Flint's actions last night must've shocked you, I'm sure. You were just starting to trust him, weren't you?"

"Leave her alone, Julian." Stevie interjects.

"But I can't imagine anything more terrifying than knowing someone is trying to kill you."

He is mocking me. Everyone is hanging on to every word he says. His eyes are locked into mine, and I feel frozen.

"The man with the knife outside of your dorm - that certainly gave you a fright. But when your drink was poisoned in the great hall? Now that's just petrifying. It seems as though with each attempt on your life, this person is getting closer and closer to succeeding." Julian says. It almost seems as though he's trying to provoke me - like he's daring me to say something in return. "I can't help but wonder what your parents think of all of this? They must be worried sick."

My heart stops. Right then, I can tell from the look in his eyes that he knows everything  about my parents. I have no idea how, but he knows.

"Ah, that's right." He continues. "You don't know them, do you? Didn't they drop you off on a stranger's doorstep when you were just in an infant?"

Something deep within me is screaming danger.

"That's right, isn't it. Have you ever considered, Fletcher, that maybe they're the ones who're trying to kill you?"

Fury, adrenaline, and terror surge through my veins all at once, and I feel like I am going to scream when Stevie pulls me towards the staircase leading to the girls dorms.

"C'mon, Zo." She says quietly, too frightened to stand up to Julian. "We're done here."

***