Chapter 52

Zoe

The night is eerily still. Too still. 

I stand alone on top of the Beauxbatons astronomy tower. If it weren't for my mounting anxiety, I might be able to appreciate the beauty of this particular view of the school grounds. 

They seem to expand on for miles from this high up -- rolling hills in one direction, the Outskirt in the other. Tucked closely to the castle, the gardens, whose flowers and foliage take on a milky glow in the moonlight. The glow dances across the rippling surface of the fountain. 

This is where Blaise had instructed me to meet him, per his note. 

Meet me on top of the astronomy tower at 11 tonight. I want to talk with you. It's important.

Those are the words he'd drawn across a folded piece of parchment some hours ago, which he'd then given to Ingrid, who'd then delivered it to me. The note is currently clutched in between my thumb and forefinger and tucked beneath the tight fold of my arms. 

It's just past 11:30, and still, no Blaise. 

Where could he be? 

Blaise is a punctual being. He wouldn't forget. He wouldn't be late. It's unlike him -- particularly if he'd wanted to talk to me about something important. Whatever that means. 

No -- there's a whisper, a shifting between my bones that tells me something isn't quite right. Something else must be keeping him. Or something has gone wrong, perhaps. I can't think of anything else he'd allow to keep him from meeting me. 

A sudden breathy wind stirs against my face, as though trying to spur me into action. 

It does. 

I am racing back down the stairs, back through the darkened corridors of the castle, toward the location of the person who I know saw Blaise last. Ingrid. She sent him off to his mother's house. If he's back yet, then surely she'll know. 

I try to suppress the thought of what might've happened between Blaise and his mother, my feet frantic on the quiet stone floor. 

The sounds of voices flood my ears as I approach the headmaster's office, growing steadily louder. They sound short, angry, as though engaged in a heated argument. 

I stop just short of the door, which stands open a thin inch. 

"...so you're telling us you got nothing out of her? Not a single thing?"

"I already told you that I didn't." 

My breath catches as I recognize the second voice to be Blaise's. He sounds exhausted and irritated. 

"And why not? Surely you realize that this is of the utmost importance to our mission here. The information your mother has could change everything. It's her prophecy, she may know something that could save Zoe -- or otherwise gravely endanger her, for that matter -- "

"You think I haven't thought about that??" Blaise again. "You think that doesn't haunt me every day? That if I fail at this -- that if I can't get her to talk -- that that could mean the difference between life and death for Zo -- "

"Let's all cool down." A third voice -- a woman's. Ingrid. "Blaise, if you'd been successful in getting all of the answers we need from your mother in one go, I'd have been astonished. She's a highly intelligent woman -- we can't forget that."

"She's a monster is what she is. D'you know what she told me? That since I haven't been around for her to...experiment on, she's just been using other people. Innocent people. Killing them, even. I didn't even have time to ask her the goddamned questions before she dropped that on me."

"Merlin, so you didn't even ask her anything -- "

"Calm down, Martin.  Blaise -- you reacted exactly how she wanted you to. She knew you needed something from her, so she played on your emotions to distract you. You have got to try to keep your feelings in check when you're around this woman, or you're never going to get her to tell you anything."

"I know that. Don't you think I know that? Bloody hell, the woman's my mother." Blaise snaps. "And how exactly do you recommend I go about doing that, huh? I can't exactly make my feelings disappear -- not when the life of the girl I love is involved." 

The voices continue, but I don't hear what they're saying. 

My swelling heart has frozen, torn between shooting into my throat and sinking into my stomach. 

Not when the life of the girl I love is involved.

The girl I love.

Blaise's words ring in my ears, my mind churning as I try to comprehend the meaning of them. 

Feeling dizzy, foggy, as though the floor beneath my feet has vanished, I find myself suddenly afraid that someone will open the door and catch me listening in. 

I stumble back down the corridor I came from, not quite sure where I'm going, but knowing that I need to get away. 

***

Blaise

Later that night, I toss back and forth beneath my bed covers, the minutes slugging by. My body is still hot and worked up with anger, the mattress beneath me feeling like an unfriendly slab of stone. 

Following the debriefing of my meeting with my mother in Ingrid's office, I'd raced up to the astronomy tower, trying to work the bitterness out of my mouth along the way. 

It was midnight, and I'd asked Zoe to meet me at eleven. I was pissed off and an hour late. 

So maybe it was a good thing that, when I swung open the door at the top of the tower, she was nowhere to be found. 

Rationally, I thought, it was probably best not to discuss the things I'd wanted to with her after the horrific night I'd had. On the other hand, I was burnt through by frustration, and worried that she'd be pissed at me for not showing up on time. 

I then retired to the darkness of my bedroom, where I lay now, desiring a state of unconsciousness that I know would likely be mottled by a familiar set of nightmares. 

So I've disappointed Ingrid and Martin, my mother has been killing people, and Zoe is god knows where, thinking god knows what. 

Great. Fan-fucking-tastic. 

In the darkness, my hand comes to rest on the top of my head. Suddenly uncomfortable, I twist onto my side, the bedsheets catching annoyingly around my limbs. 

It's then that a thin slice of light cuts through the dark room, jutting across the floor. Someone's opened my door.

A soft click as the door is shut again, and the sound of small feet padding across the carpet towards me. 

Then, she slips into bed beside me, pressing her small body to the back of mine. Her cheek feels warm beneath my shoulder blade. 

My heart flutters and then twists painfully in my chest, stuck somewhere between guilt and sweet relief. 

Neither of us say anything for a moment. We lay silently, enveloped by the darkness, her clinging to my back, warm breath splaying gently across the nape of my neck. 

And then:

"I heard what you said earlier." 

Something seizes in me. 

"What did you hear?" 

Zoe is quiet for a few long seconds. The absence of her breath on my skin tells me she's holding it in her throat. 

"You said you loved me." 

Shit.

"I do." I try to keep my voice steady. I feel more raw and exposed than ever before. 

Zoe still pressed to my back. More silence -- it eats away at me with every passing second.

"I love you, Blaise." She says. 

Abruptly, without really thinking about it, I roll over and take her face in my hands. 

I hold her for a minute, feeling the soft skin of her cheeks against my palms as something crashes through me. 

Then, I pull her close and bring her lips to mine.