As We Fall (Blaise Zabini Fanfiction)

Chapter 47

Sorry this update took so long! Feel free to refresh yourself on previous chapters. Enjoy!

***

Zoe

By the time we arrive at Beauxbatons Academy for Magic, the sun has long since vanished beneath the horizon. 

The grand chateau, which serves as the school's main vessel for its students, is shrouded in a cloak of darkness, which is starkly contrasted by the pale splashes of moonlight that illuminate the gardens surrounding it. I assume the vast maze of flowers and shrubbery around the castle have magical properties, for they seem to absorb the light of the moon itself, trapping it within leaves and petals that I think must emit a faint, white glow only at night. The castle itself is monstrous and intimidating; it's all sharp points and jagged edges, turrets ending in thorns and walls jutting off in steep edges. It's a stark contrast both to the curvature of the Hogwarts architecture and the delicacy of the glowing garden. 

We are greeted -- or lack thereof -- by a man that looks entirely average in every aspect of his appearance. The sweep of chestnut hair atop his head is thinning out, much like the skin that covers his bones. He wears charcoal grey robes and simple round glasses, along with a look of perplexed exhaustion and anxiety. 

I don't know what I was expecting, but the sole presence of this lone wizard surprises me. He fixes me with a vague look of perplexion when I step out of the carriage, as if the mere sight of me provokes conflict in him, but he quickly regains his composure. 

"Zoe Fletcher, I understand? I wish I could say it's a pleasure to finally meet you, but under these circumstances, I'm afraid that it isn't for any of us. And you are Blaise Zabini, I presume?"

I turn my head to see that Blaise is now standing behind me, having exited the carriage as well. Although it's barely detectable, I don't miss the thin twang of skepticism in the man's voice as he addresses Blaise. 

"I wish we had time for further introductions, but my orders were to escort you straight to the headmaster's office on arrival. The general student body of Beauxbatons is not to be made aware of your presence here -- hence why this is all taking place during the nighttime. Now, follow me, and once we've entered the castle, not a word from either of you until I say so."

I've only a moment to look over at Blaise, who raises an eyebrow at me, before the man, whose essence is on par with the blunt solemnity of his voice, strides off towards the castle.

We trail closely behind him for what must be twenty minutes; through the fluorescent gardens, past a large fountain, up the front staircase.

The interior of the castle itself is stupefying. The walls are made of chiseled white stone, into which intricate patterns have been carved. Upon closer look, I see that the carvings are not just patterns, but images, stories: sculptures of nature that feature the sun, sea, and land, as well as godlike figures from French mythology. 

It takes me a moment to realize that the marbled faces are staring back at me, and they can blink, speak to each other, move about the walls with surprising liquidity. Once gain, the enchantments made possible by magic have left me in awe. 

Finally, at the end of a long and narrow hallway, we stop before a pair of tall double doors. The man draws his wand from within the depths of his robes, tracing an intricate pattern across the surface of both doors. At this, they seem to melt away, right down into the floor beneath them, as though hot magma has been poured over them, reducing them to a molten liquid state. 

The three of us step forward into the small, square, and windowless room that lies beyond. I instantly feel claustrophobic. I look over at Blaise, whose chest is mere inches from the back of my shoulder, as though he'll be able to tell me what we're doing in here.