Rating:
PG-13
House:
The Dark Arts
Characters:
Blaise Zabini Padma Patil
Genres:
Angst Romance
Era:
Multiple Eras
Stats:
Published: 06/02/2003
Updated: 06/02/2003
Words: 1,595
Chapters: 1
Hits: 445

Eyes of the Radiant Girl

Nell

Story Summary:
Padma always wanted to fly. Blaise told her she didn't need to. Padma decided she wanted to be an angel.

Posted:
06/02/2003
Hits:
445
Author's Note:
Femslash and suicide! Read at your own risk! I really do not know where this came from, it just happened.


Padma always used to talk about how she wanted to fly. "No, not like on a broomstick, silly," she'd say and laugh, that addictive laugh where she threw her head back and the peal of joy rang out in the room like a thousand sunbeams. "With wings." She's always wanted wings. Blaise would smile and tip her head to the side and say, "Well, you have to earn them, then. Be a good girl." And Padma would laugh again and lean over to kiss Blaise, her dark eyes glittering playfully.

It was a childhood dream of hers, to fly like a bird or an angel on the winds. Broomsticks and levitation were great and all, but it was artificial, just the pretense of flying and not really flying at all. She talked about becoming an Animagus for a short while, a hawk or an eagle or something like that, but when you transform, you're a bird, not really human at all. That's when Padma decided she wanted to be an angel.

Blaise, lying on the bed, pale and dark-haired against the deep blue of Ravenclaw colors, laughed and tugged on a lock of Padma's brown hair. They were exact opposites, Padma being soft and curvy and warm, with dusky skin and wavy chestnut hair, while Blaise is thin and pale, straight dark brown hair falling down her shoulders to her waist. Padma's eyes were warm, a rich chocolate brown, and Blaise's gaze is sharp and green and icy. Opposites attract, the old saying goes, and it went true for the two of them. Autumn and winter, fire and ice, Ravenclaw and Slytherin.

"An angel?" Blaise used to say. "Why do you want to be an angel? Then you can't do anything fun." And Padma shrugged, looked away. "Just...because," she said softly. "Because they're beautiful and good and they have wings."

"You're beautiful and good," said Blaise. "You don't need wings." And she would pull Padma down on the bed beside her and look into her eyes and kiss her softly, but there was a look in Padma's eyes that wouldn't go away for a long time, and it hurt Blaise to see that. Blaise kept trying to kiss away that look, the hurt and the pain, but Padma refused to let it go, just like she refused to let the dream go. Fly, always to fly.

"It's stifling, here," she complained to Blaise one night. "I feel trapped. I can't get out." Her eyes were bleeding pain again, and she turned away, turned her head so Blaise wouldn't have to see. Blaise tried to clear away the locks of chestnut hair so she could share the hurt, but Padma moved away. "Even with you," she whispered. "It used to be so liberating with you, I felt so free, now, I just feel ensnared. I see a cage. All around me, a cage. I can't stretch my wings." Blaise had moved closer to cover up the distance between them, and Padma moved away again. Blaise reached out to touch Padma's face but Padma stood up and ran out of the room. Blaise followed.

"Padma!" she called out, but Padma kept running, so she ran to catch up but couldn't. It was like a nightmare, where you're running, chasing something you want so much, but the hallway just gets longer and you don't get any closer to your goal than you were ten minutes ago. That's how Blaise feels as she hurtles down the corridors after Padma.

They end up in the Astronomy Tower. Blaise, out of breath and panting, slumped against the wall and glared at Padma. "You know," she said, "if you wanted to snog, we could've just stayed in the dormitory. The Tower is always busy."

"It's empty now," replied Padma. She's standing over by the large glassless window, looking out. Students aren't allowed up in the Tower at night, but nobody ever heeds the rule. Everyone only has one goal, anyway. They think it's romantic, looking up at the velvet night sky, sprinkled with stars, but Padma wasn't looking up at the sky. She was looking down.

"I'm living in a cage, Blaise," she said quietly. Blaise thought she heard stifled emotion in that quiet voice, but she didn't pay any mind to it, instead taking a step towards Padma. Padma shook her head. "Don't come close to me. I feel even more trapped with you."

Blaise stopped and frowned at Padma. "Oh, that's nice, thank you."

"I'm sorry," replied Padma. "I really am. I loved you, back there. I can't love you anymore." And Blaise watched as Padma lifted her leg to the windowsill, her skirt hiking up her thigh as she lifts herself up. Blaise wanted to touch that smooth skin, but she forced herself to stand still, her heart beating like a tribal drum as she watched Padma balance precariously on the narrow ledge.

"I just wanted to fly," whispered Padma, and she finally lifts her face up the sky. Tears, silver like mercury in the starlight, rolled down her cheeks and Blaise wanted to kiss them away, but she stood still and looked on. "I just want to fly," Padma said, and, as Blaise watched, she lifted herself up to the tips of her toes, arms spread, tear-stained face looking up at the sky. The gentle night breeze ruffled her thick hair as she leaned forward, a small smile on her lips. And then, just like that, she was gone.

Blaise was shocked, frozen for a moment, then spun around and tore out of the room, down the corridors, ignoring the ghosts and Mrs. Norris, and outside. She had to run halfway around the castle before she spotted the spot on the ground. She ran over to it, falling to her knees beside it on the blood-soaked earth. A trickle of blood escaped her mouth because she was biting her lip so hard to keep from crying. Reaching out, she gathered Padma's broken body in her lap and rocked her silently, her mind unable to connect Padma's warm brown eyes with the shattered thing in her arms.

Blaise sits in the chair, straight-backed, hands folded in her lap, pale green eyes looking straight ahead. Her dark hair is cut short, barely to the nape of her neck, and she's paler than before, Occasionally, her tongue flicks out to touch a scab on her lip, but other than that, she is perfectly still.

Across the circular room, Parvati is huddled in an armchair, sobbing weakly. She had cried so many tears since she learned that her sister is dead. Her hysterical sobs are the only sound in the room.

Dumbledore's kindly blue eyes are fixed on Blaise's face intently. "Blaise, if you know anything, you must tell us. You found Padma's body. You were there when she fell." He wants answers from her, but he won't get them. Blaise won't desecrate Padma's memory with pointless words and confessions. 'She jumped' - is that something to say about a past love? She jumped, but they don't have to know that.

Blaise's eyes go out of focus, and Dumbledore calls her back to the present. "Blaise?" a gentle prompt, no accusations, no prejudice against her, a Slytherin. Nothing, just a want for the truth and a soft gaze. Blaise shakes her head. "I don't know anything."

Parvati gulps for air in the corner and wails something incomprehensible. Dumbledore turns to the fireplace and mutters something, and soon, Madam Pomfrey is bearing Parvati away, the girl still sobbing uncontrollably.

"Blaise," says Dumbledore again, still gentle but more insistent this time, but before he can continue, the doors bursts open and a small, blonde girl stumbles into the room.

"Headmaster, please, she didn't do anything, she's innocent, please," she babbles, bright blue eyes flicking from Blaise to Dumbledore, afraid but stronger is the urge to tell the truth, to be honest, to be fair. Her cloakpin proclaims her to be a Hufflepuff.

Dumbledore inclined his head at the little blonde. "All right, Susan. How do you know?"

Susan Bones stands up a little straighter, draws a deep breath and exhales. "I saw them." She looks at Blaise with her wide eyes. "I'm sorry, but I'm a Prefect, and I was taking a bath, and I was going back to my dormitory when I heard you run by. I followed you. I'm sorry, but I had to do it." She looks back to Dumbledore. "Padma jumped. Blaise couldn't do anything. It all happened too fast."

Dumbledore nods, looking from Susan to Blaise and back again. "Thank you, Miss Bones. Miss Zabini, you may go."

Blaise hates Susan for making Padma's excuses, so she stands up and walks out without a word, head held high and proud. Susan scurries after, breathing shallow and quick, and once they're away from Dumbledore's office, she touches Blaise's shoulder.

Blaise turns around and fixes the Hufflepuff with an icy stare, crosses her arms in front of her chest. "What?" she says coldly.

Susan is looking down at the floor, but at Blaise's words, raises her head and bravely looks the Slytherin girl straight in the eye. "I'm really sorry," she says softly. "I shouldn't have followed. It's not my business. But I was worried that they would accuse you of killing her, and you didn't, she jumped. It wasn't your fault."

"I know," Blaise says, looking into Susan's true-blue eyes. She's so sincere, so honest, that it's hard to be angry, so Blaise just smiles, turns around and walks away.