Destiny

Mirages

Blaise graciously detached herself from Draco's strong hands but not from his steady, piercing gaze as she went to join Pansy and her other Slytherin friends. Pansy Parkinson had not changed since the sixth year and greeted her by asking for advice on various aspects of her life and showering compliments upon Blaise at the same time. Blaise took a deep breath and answered Pansy's questions, which mostly revolved around boys and acne, and made her best effort to accept the generous compliments even though she had never been talented at accepting them. However, she had learned to fake it, and flipped her hair back over her shoulder as she uttered a quiet 'Thank you, Pansy' and prompted more complimenting comments about her hair.

She was pleased to find that the Slytherin common actually felt like home this year. All six previous times that she had entered this room at the beginning of the year, the velvet forest-green draperies and the cold cinderblock walls had always seemed to oppress her in a way. Now, however, she was able to sink into the stuffed armchairs and look into the fire with a comforted feeling in her heart. It was a pity that she had found a home here her seventh year in. Blaise's gaze wandered from a group of devilishly attractive male sixth years to where Draco was seated, with his ever-present cronies, in a small cluster of three armchairs in the coldest corner of the room. She enjoyed a few moments of watching him while he was not watching her back before joining Pansy in the girls' dormitories.

The dormitory was cold, and the thick carpet under Blaise's bare feet was not exactly sufficient in keeping out the cold from the stone floor. There had been hot bricks placed under the soft linen sheets, however, which softened the cool crispness of the fabric against her bare shoulders when she slid into bed. Blaise drew the draperies- forest green with silver trim, as always- around her bed in an effort to drown out the gossip of the girls she shared her dormitory with. Desperately she sent up a silent hope that Pansy would be less insufferable this year, and slowly her lids drifted shut and she fell into a dreamy sleep.

Draco Malfoy had absolutely no intention of going to sleep in the near future. Crabbe had shown his potential by smuggling in some alcoholic butterbeer, term didn't start for a few more days anyway. Lucius's son had every intention of partying this night away without guilt. He popped the lid off one of the bottles and took a deep swig, much to the apprehension of some first years. Draco was confident that they wouldn't tattle on him, however, and he took another drink. It wasn't like he couldn't talk his way out of punishment with Snape anyway. He could count on one had the amount of times he had gotten in trouble with the head of his House.

The alcohol, as always, enhanced his already strong emotions. Draco's glazed eyes wandered around the common room, which had magically emptied in less than what seemed like five minutes, searching for Blaise. Several times he thought he saw her, but they were only hallucinations, like mirages in the desert. He had consumed more alcohol that he had realized and woke up the next morning with his lips buried into a pillow, sprawled out across the arms of his chair. Hastily he righted himself from this embarrassing position, put was punished for it when he was overcome by an unbearable wave of pain that seemed to squeeze his temples closer together with every breath. Ignoring the loudly snoring Crabbe and his companion Goyle, Draco stumbled towards the stairs and reached out a hand towards the stone banister. Slowly he climbed the stairs, only to realize that he was heading towards the girls' dormitories and not towards his own room. Too tired and hung over to correct his mistake he passed out, slumped against the nearest door.

The mirage had led him to the door of the seventh year girls' bedroom.

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It was Pansy that opened the door first, only to let out her trademark squeal and wake every single person in the dormitories. "Draco Malfoy!" she said with obvious pleasure at finding the most attractive boy in the school sprawled out in her bedroom. The commotion sat Blaise straight up in her bed, the hot brick brushing her toes with lingering warmth. When she realized that there was no emergency she let out an aggravated groan. It became apparent to her that this year with Pansy would be no different that the last year, if not worse. It was going to be a long semester.

Defeated, she pushed back the draperies and swung her feet over the bed. A dim grey light, like sun rays shining through a thick fog, chased the shadows in her bed back a bit but still did not make them disappear. The heavy cloth swung behind her as she pushed the rest of it out of her way so that she could grab her dressing gown before Draco opened his eyes. It was a silky night color, and it reached to just above her ankles. She didn't bother to rope it shut and only drew it closed over her nightclothes, which she didn't wish Draco to see- just yet.

Blaise joined Pansy in crouching over the sleeping Draco, who looked groggy but disturbingly innocent in his alcohol-induced slumber. His hair was mussed and falling all over the place, the startling opposite of the hair of the first year Draco. Draco's hair, however, was one of the changed that Blaise most welcomed. She thought it suited him.

"What do we do with him?" said Pansy in the tone that a Muggle girl might use had she found Matt Damon in her bedroom.

"We take him to his dormitory," said Blaise in an obvious tone. "What else would we do with him? Don't answer that," she said as she lifted Draco's arm and let it fall back to the floor to ensure that he was completely knocked out. "Help me carry him."

Pansy nodded and delicately lifted Draco's feet off the floor. Blaise took him under the shoulders and guided the odd threesome down the stairs and then back up again, as they headed to his dormitory. The heavy mahogany door into the seventh year dormitory creaked painfully loudly as Blaise pushed it rudely open with her shoulder, but thankfully none of the two boys inside stirred from their slumber. Blaise could not have thrown Draco's head and shoulders onto the bed with less care, but Pansy carefully arranged his feet on the sheets and then proceeded to tuck him in like a mother putting an infant to bed. Blaise hurriedly shooed Pansy out of the room and resisted the urge to smell Morag MacDougal's sheets as she left the room herself.

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Harry stirred from his restful slumber to rays of bright sunshine coming through his window and creeping past the maroon draperies that hung around his bed. He pushed the hangings back and checked to see if Ron, Dean, Seamus and Neville were still asleep. They were, and in various strange positions of repose. Ron's mouth was open but Harry didn't want to get close enough to see if he was drooling, Dean was completely under the sheets except for a single cowlick at the back of his head showing over the maroon, Seamus's head had ended up on the exact opposite side of the bed that it had started on and Neville was snoring loudly, his head hanging upside down over the edge of his bed and causing a lump in the boy's own hangings. A Remembrall, remarkably silent, sat on Neville's beside table. Harry tried to push the thought of Neville's innocent face with a scar engraved upon it from his head as he strode over the window and looked across the grounds. They rolled away from him in rich green hills, being overcome with forest as they went farther on. The path of the Hogwarts Express rode through the woods like the path of a serpent, ending in Hogsmeade, which was only visible by some trails of smoke rising above the treetops. The lake glittered in the early morning light as the sun climbed higher. Harry sensed movement behind him and guessed that it was Ron. "No squid yet," he said.

"Eh," muttered Ron, rubbing his eyes and lazily reaching behind himself to draw the sheets up to his pillow. His redheaded friend gave a groggy laugh as he saw Neville's head before he walked over to the door, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "You coming, Harry?" he said through a yawn. "I'm going to get some breakfast."

Harry shrugged. "I'm not that hungry," he said. His friend hesitated, and Harry added, "I'll be down in a minute." Ron opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, swinging the heavy oak door closed behind him. Harry's attention returned to the grounds of the school in an unusual need to absorb every detail of them before he left at the end of this year. He was gazing at Hagrid's cabin when he was distracted by something running across the fields. He blinked his eyes a few times and the phantom disappeared, but for a moment he had thought that he had seen the stag. His Patronus. His father.

He turned from the window and crossed the room in a few long strides, exiting the room quietly as to not wake his friends. Ron had not yet left the common; he was having a 'discussion' with Hermione. As usual in the discussions, Ron was significantly redder than usual and Hermione was significantly more collected than usual. Ron was saying something about "Books?! Already?!!" when Harry joined them. Hermione peered out at him from under a heavy volume with a title engraved into the cover. Advanced Potions for Advanced Students, read the title, and under it in the same script was written, PNEWTs.

"Puh-NEWTs?" asked Harry.

"Pre- Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests," said Hermione happily. "You can never be too prepared."

"The story of her life," said Ron sarcastically. "We didn't get any Pre-OWLs!"

"It's like the Muggle tests," Hermione started to explain. "They have these tests that they take before they graduate that determine their future, just like the NEWTs will determine our future." Her voice was taking on the tone that Harry and Ron had labeled 'Hermione's Lecture.'

"We don't want to hear about the Muggles, Hermione," said Ron. "I've got a stomach to feed!"

"Go on without me, I'll be right down," said Hermione, her eyes returning to the nastily small print of the volume. Ron scoffed and exited the portrait hole, Harry close behind him.

"You should see Volume II," said Ron, "It's almost as thick as my hand!"

Harry shook him head. "I don't know how she does it," he said.

"I don't know why she does it," said Ron as they ventured through the mazelike passageways of the castle, "And I don't think I want to know, either."

Harry was going to reply when his gaze fell upon Blaise, at the Slytherin table. He didn't know why it was bothering him so that he didn't have anything to say to her, and he wasn't sure why he wanted to talk to her so much either. He wasn't sure he wanted to know that, either.