As We Fall (Blaise Zabini Fanfiction)

Chapter 48

Zoe

After the meeting, my head feels thick and heavy, as though a solid fog is moving through it. Half-formed, half-coherent thoughts hang limply in my mind, drunken and senseless, swinging and teetering like broken chains. 

I feel one of Blaise's hands rest on my arm, his palm and fingers large enough to circle my entire bicep. I look up at him, snapping out of my trance. He opens his mouth to say something. Someone else beats him to it.

A woman with lilac hair is offering to show Blaise and I to our rooms -- the ones we'll be staying in for who knows how long -- when she, too, is interrupted. 

"I was actually hoping to talk to Zoe, first -- if that's okay." The short and stocky boy who's apparently materialized in front of us blurts. "And I was thinking I could show her to her room, too, when we're all done. If that's okay, of course." 

Immediately, I can tell that no filter exists between this boy's mind and his lips. His words are a vocalization of everything floating -- no, bouncing, whizzing around, sometimes colliding, even -- inside his head. 

Blaise raises an eyebrow at me. I know this means he's asking if I'd like him to wait for me. I think to myself how funny it is that we can communicate without words. With such simple physical gestures. 

I shake my head no at him, and he and the purple-haired woman wander off. 

"Sorry for that." The boy says. He looks to be around my age. "My name's Mikey, by the way. Mikey Madaris." 

He shoves a flexed hand out into the space between us, grinning. I take it, and he does a quick sort of spasm that I'm guessing is supposed to be a handshake. 

"My dad is Martin -- the one that brought you down here? Charms professor? He's kind of a quiet guy, all-business, y'know? Sorry about that, too."

I don't know how to respond to this, but there's no need -- Mikey goes on without waiting for an answer. 

"I'm a sixth year here -- I know you're a sixth year at Hogwarts, so we've got that in common. Here -- let's start walking. I'll show you where your room is -- it's in the northwest tower."

Again, without waiting for a response, without even really looking at me, Mikey takes off. A brief moment of shock ensues before I gain the sense to follow him. I jog a few paces to catch up. He's already talking again by the time I do. 

"Not many people know about your prophecy -- Dumbledore wanted to keep it under tight wraps when he found out. I guess You-Know-Who didn't feel like spreading the word either. Probably thought it would make him look weak or something like that. But I've known about it for years. My dad wanted me to be apart of the group after my mom --"

He stops suddenly, and something flickers in his eyes. 

"Anyways, my dad wanted me to know all about how dangerous dark wizards can be. He knew I'd take everything seriously, and that I wouldn't tell anyone about it -- which I haven't, by the way. Not a soul. I don't really have a big role in things, like Ingrid or Vaughn or my dad do. I think I'm just supposed to support you, be your friend, you know?

Anyways, I've been waiting for you to come to Beauxbatons since I found out you existed. We've all been waiting. And here you are, finally! Not that I'm happy about the circumstances, of course -- I can't imagine what it would be like to go through what you've gone through. You must be really brave, to be facing all of this like you are."

I don't say anything, but a pale resentment begins to burn beneath my ribs. 

Brave? I consider myself far from it. Bravery and I exist in two separate dimensions, never to unite, never to be associated with one another. I did not volunteer for this position, like some noble individual stepping forth from a crowd of unwilling others. It was forced upon me -- a big, steaming pile-of-something shoved into my palms before I could protest.