As We Fall (Blaise Zabini Fanfiction)

Chapter 44

Blaise

My mind is spinning after Zoe explains to me what happened in the cave. 

"We need to talk to Dumbledore." I resolve when she's finished speaking.

Her eyes bulge like an insect's. She's scared. "No, Blaise. I can't."

"Why not? If anyone else knows anything about this, it's him. And he would help us -- we're students. He'll tell us what to do next. I'm sure he will."

I'm actually not sure of this -- few are the days that I've spoken to Dumbeldore myself. But he's reputable for his love for students, as well as his desire to help them. 

I have a feeling he may know something about the whole thing -- Julian, the prophecy. After all, he was the only one Voldemort ever feared. There must be a reason for that. 

Zoe's face tenses, her lips and eyebrows furrowing as if she's going to protest. 

But she doesn't. She pushes out a heavy breath of air and rubs the heel of her palm against her forehead. 

"Okay." She says. "Okay. We'll leave tomorrow, then. I don't want to waste any more time here."

***

When we arrive back at the castle, nothing has changed. 

A steady flow of students moves up and down the corridors, some of them laughing in large groups, others dragging their feet on their way to their next class. While the first signs of spring have begun to blossom out on the grounds -- little dandelions by the lakeshore, fresh green on the trees -- they're still covered with the white and brown muck of winter. Even our dorms look the same as we'd last left them.

Somehow though, everything feels completely different. 

The world has a dark, cold touch to it that no one else seems to be able to feel. Colors that were once vibrant are now muted and dull. The smiles that come so naturally to our peers' faces feel nearly impossible on Zoe's and mine, like the muscles surrounding our lips have been permanently frozen in a downwards position. 

She doesn't want to be here right now. I can tell. 

She reminds me of a deer -- fearful and skiddish, alarmed by noises and movements that occur too close to her. 

I stop several times and pull her into empty corridors when I can tell she's getting overwhelmed. I hold her tense face in my hands and tell her to look at me, whisper sweet things that loosen her muscles and cause her heartbeat to decelerate. 

Professor McGonagall hesitates at first when I ask her to take us to Professor Dumbledore. When I tell her it's urgent, though, she agrees. 

She leads us to a corridor on the seventh floor. It's mostly empty, save for a particularly ugly statue of a gargoyle. 

"This is the headmaster's office." She explains in a voice that contains lingering traces of skepticism. "The password is 'Lemon Drop'. I trust that you won't repeat it to anyone, for I will find out if you do."

I nod. Zoe stands quietly beside me, fragile like a leaf in a windstorm. 

I suspect that her presence is the only reason McGonagall has chosen to trust me. She was one of the only Slytherin students that the strict professor warmed up to. 

"I wish you well, Miss Fletcher. Mister Zabini." 

With these final words, Professor McGonagall clicks back down the corridor, her footsteps reverberating off of the high ceilings. 

We are alone now. 

I repeat the password that McGonagall had given us, loosely aiming my voice at the gargoyle statue. With a grinding noise, it begins to slide away, revealing the thin spiral staircase hidden behind it. 

I give Zoe's hand a squeeze, and together, we step inside. 

***

Zoe

"There are lemon drops on the table beside you if you are keen on indulging in one."

The first thing Dumbledore says when we enter his office. 

He's not even looking at us -- his back is pointed in our direction as he wafts through the contents of a bookshelf. 

The headmaster's office is a grand, circular room. 

Many small tables with spindly legs are strewn across the floor, ornamented with odd little objects that whistle and whir. Gold-trimmed portraits of aged witches and wizards cover the walls, many of their occupants fast asleep. 

"Your visit does not come as a surprise to me." Dumbledore explains upon seeing our puzzled faces. "In fact, I've been expecting you two for quite some time. I insist you have a seat."

He gestures to two chairs, which have been conveniently placed on the opposite side of the headmaster's desk. Blaise and I take our seats as we're told. 

I feel sick. My stomach is racked with nausea, and my lungs suddenly feel too small to take in the air needed to keep me alive. 

It's the first time I've really felt anything since the cave. I don't like it. I want to retreat back into the shadows of my mind, where numbness consumes my entire being. 

I don't want to talk about what happened, and I don't want to face the fact that I have to do something about it. 

"I assume you have come to speak with me about your twin brother?" Dumbledore says, wearing a soft smile as he folds his fingers beneath his chin. 

It takes me a moment to realize the truth of his words. When I do, it hits like a train.

"You knew?" I say. "You knew Julian was my brother? This whole time, you knew, and you didn't say anything?"

I can feel anger rising in my throat like bile.

"You could have warned me, or helped me prepare. I almost died in that cave. And you could've stopped my grandpa from..." 

I have to cut myself off, for my voice has begun to tremble on my lips. I can't say it aloud -- if I do, it means I'll have to acknowledge that what happened to him was real, and not part of some perverse nightmare that I've not yet woken from. 

"Yes, Zoe. I was aware that Julian Tines was your twin brother -- just as I knew of the prophecy that had been cast upon the two of you prior to your birth. But I did not know of your parents' plan to abduct and kill your grandfather -- a plan which I imagine was overseen by Voldemort. You must remember that he is one of the most dangerous and unpredictable wizards of all time for a reason. There are many things about him that even I do not yet know."

Dumbledore glances down at his hands. The flesh on one of them is charred and black. 

"Will you let me tell you what I do know about your past, Zoe? I urge you to trust me. I can be of great assistance to you in this matter." 

I look over at Blaise. I see his lips move as he speaks to me, but can't hear it over the sound of the blood rushing in my ears. 

I turn back to Professor Dumbledore. He still wears that same soft smile, but his eyes swim with something different now -- concern? unease? Maybe something in between the two. 

"Yes, professor." I say. "I'm ready."

Truly, I don't know if I am.

"So you are." 

And away he goes.