Chapter Eight

I watched quietly as Blaise paused ahead of me, using the sleeves of his dark robes to dab the sweat on his forehead. Even in the freezing cold night, I could feel the heat of sweat dripping down my back.

To lose track of the death eater at the house, we ran most of the way back. Occasionally, we had to hide inside a gas station or store to catch our breath. By the time we reached Blaise's new home, the death eater would have completely lost our tracks.

I steadied myself on the concrete walls as we descended the stairwell of the bunker carefully. The dirt and surprisingly dry leaves crunched underneath our muddied shoes.

Gradually, the pitter-patter of the rain ceased as the hideout sealed itself shut from above, leaving us in absolute silence.

"Lux," I said hoarsely, after standing in the dark for a few more seconds. We had been quiet towards each other for most of the venture.

Tiredness attacked my mind in waves, gradually becoming harder to ignore in the sullen silence. Creeping into my consciousness were the vivid images of red and orange, haunting the crevices of my mind. I could almost feel the heat against my skin, threatening to burn me alive.

Although I've never seen Blaise care for a muggle in his life, his face had a pained look that reflected my own. I guess his hate towards muggles and muggle-borns didn't go as deep as he made it seem at Hogwarts.

I studied the shadow of his tall figure as he stood at the entrance, outlined by the faint light emitted from the tip of my wand.

If I told myself last week about the events that had occurred recently, I would have bet 100 pounds that none of it actually happened. I never expected my new life to fall apart so easily.

"For what it's worth," Blaise began quietly, causing me to jump from my thoughts. His hand hovered in the air, his wand pointed at the fancy entrance door. "You couldn't have done anything to save them."

I flinched at his blunt words. He might've been right, but all I could think about was the smile on Mr. Williams' face when he asked me what I wanted for lunch. If I suggested going out to eat instead...

Silently, I followed Blaise through the newly revealed entranceway. My mind refused to quieten after a gruesome imagination of burnt-up corpses, lying shrivelled on the driveway of what used to be my home. There are definitely downsides to having a creative mind.

"Took you long enough, Zabini." Impatience was evident in the smoothness of Draco's signature drawl. "The Dark Lord–"

His eyes locked with mine as his whole body froze in surprise, and a hint of something else.

The alertness of his body movements asked us the unspoken question: 'Why was I back at the bunker if I had left in such a hurry to get back home?'

Blaise exhaled loudly, indicating that he might be just as exhausted as I was. "Later." He gave Draco a meaningful glance, something similar to 'shut the fuck up' before gesturing for me to follow.

Too exhausted to do anything less, I trudge after Blaise and ignore Draco's questioning gaze.

Much of his bunker differed from the Zabini Castle, outside of the expensive decor. The space seemed too small and compact for the two wealthiest heirs to be living in. Nonetheless, the bunker was not as suffocating as Grimmauld Place or burned to ashes like my previous home, which was more than I could ask for.

I followed him down a narrow hallway that was in the opposite direction of his potions room. We passed various paintings and closed doors, eventually arriving at the very end. One medium-sized painting of Blaise's family hung at the end of the hall, featuring a serious-looking man and a woman holding a baby boy. The couple stared down at me with furrowed brows, holding an air of indifference despite being just a painting.

I recognized the woman as Mrs. Zabini, who I saw once or twice before, at the Malfoys' annual galas. Since it was unlikely that Blaise would ever have a painting of one of his many stepfathers, I knew I was meeting his birth father for the first time. I haven't seen a painting like this in the Zabini Castle before, but it didn't take a Ravenclaw to deduce that the two men were related. They both shared high, aristocratic cheekbones and dark irises.

I glanced at Blaise, noticing how they both shared a scowl of boredom and irritation.

Paying me no mind, Blaise waved his hand lazily at one of the four doors. The ebony door on the left swung open easily, revealing a large room with a neatly made bed. The walls were bare except for a quidditch poster of the Puddlemere United.

Underneath the team logo, a large quidditch field made up the colourful background. After squinting a bit, I noticed there were multiple navy-blue figures on the field, zipping around in their brooms. They were playing a scrimmage among the extended team, while an active scoreboard counted at the right-hand corner of the paper. I wonder how many times they've played since the war started, oblivious to the life around them. Just as I was.

I sat down on the black sheets of the bed and looked up at Blaise silently.

The pressure of a nagging thought consumed me slowly, relishing in the quiet.

"Do you-" I bit my lip in worry, suddenly too afraid to say the words out loud. Admitting to reality would be the beginning of new torture. But I knew that it was ridiculous to hope that ignoring the problem would erase the memories along with it.

Blaise had always been an intuitive ass, though. He never needed legilimency to read a person's mind.

"I saw them," he revealed quietly. "They were gone the moment the fiendfyre entered the house."

"Oh." Despite already assuming the worst in the deep recesses of my mind, I felt my heart shatter at the news.

I was suddenly back at the Department of Mysteries, watching my father fade into nothingness. From my head to my toes, I could feel the familiar stretch of numbness eat through my nerves. The pressure behind my eyes began to build as the night slowly came back to me.

I could feel his eyes staring holes into my skull.

"I'm okay," I stated. My voice wavered and I quickly balanced my head in my hands, in case the floodgates decided to open without warning. "I'll sleep it off," I tried again, knowing fully well that sleep would not reach me tonight.

"There are spare clothes in the wardrobe," he finally said. "Let me know if you need anything. My room is just across from yours."

I nodded and managed a small thanks before he left the room, closing the door behind him.

It was only a few moments later that I realized my wand was still lit from earlier. The chaos was distracting.

"Nox." 

Published: 07/01/2021