A Sorta Fairytale

A Sorta Fairytale

"You could taste heaven perfectly,

Feel out the summer breeze,

Didn't know when we'd be back,

And I don't,

Didn't think,

We'd end up like this..."

~ Tori Amos

Chapter 1: Blood Drops Keep Falling On My Head

Blaise Speaks

I have fallen from grace. I sit here in this dungeon. My hands are tied above my head. I should probably stop squirming to be let free. The ropes are cutting into my flesh and blood is dripping down onto my head. My shirt is ripped and lying on the ground. The dirty ground. I just got that bloody thing cleaned too! I just woke up about a half hour ago. I don't know how long I have been hanging here. My eyes slowly adjusted and my head was swimming when I did wake. That could only mean I was put out with a sleeping potion.

Feathers are everywhere, stained with blood. I try to ignore the pain in my arms and back, but my whole body is aching. I arch my back to stretch it and I see more feathers flutter down. Softly they float towards the dirty ground to meet my shirt. Just like my shirt they are a shade of what used to be white, but the blood and mud has seeped through them.

My mind has been forming plans for how to escape, but they come to nothing. My arms are still aching and I look up. There are no windows and only two candles slowly burning out on a table against the wall. I'm shivering now. The walls are stone. I can't have left the school, I must still be here in the castle. I remember when it was so bloody cold in my common room, discussing the hottest things we could think of. Me, being the hormonal git I am, would always mention a girl I had had the opportunity of bonking. Now, I am no different. My mind goes to a girl. But, I haven't had such an opportunity to even see her without her shirt off.

My throat is dry.

I feel my eyes stinging. I am not going to cry! Oh bloody hell, no! I feel so pathetic. I push away these thoughts that are ripping inside. 'I will never see her again.' I hear myself saying. Yes I will damnit! I will! I will be able to kiss her again! Feel her against me. I will make love to her! I will embrace her against my naked body and hear her breathe in my ear saying she loves me! Who am I kidding? I am still just Blaise Zabini, the school manwhore, tied up, ready to cry. How amused Malfoy would be to see me. Stupid git! Oh, like he had nothing to do with the fact that I am here? If I ever see him again, I am going to cut off his todger and feed it to wild dogs!

FUCK!

I need to calm down. The lack of blood going to my hands is making me dizzy again. I take a deep breath. I can't believe how simple it is to inhibit me from escaping. How the hell did they figure it out? My little Achilles heel. Achilles was such a dunderhead looking back, as was I, as a matter of fact. I won't think about that. Wars never bring good memories. Stupid Trojans!

My stomach is burning now from hunger. I look down. My knees are giving. Well at least mum let me keep my trousers on. Thoughtful of her. Don't want me literally freezing my arse off! What would people say? An arseless Zabini! I would most definitely be in the news. 'How did he die?' they would ask her. 'It's too tragic,' my mother would sob. 'His arse fell off! Frozen from the dungeon I entombed him in.' I throw back my head, laughing. I am frightened a little by how funny this whole situation seems to me. Someone better save me before hunger, fatigue, and pain takes over my mind.

It's my mother's fault, really. Well doesn't that sound like a cheap copout? All teenagers would say that about their parents. But, really in retrospect, if she would have just been able to accept that a Muggle could have a higher score than me, then I wouldn't be here shirtless; in danger of going mad, dying, and losing my arse