As We Fall (Blaise Zabini Fanfiction)

Chapter 35

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The little boy loved animals.

He'd always seemed to gravitate towards them, as if there was some sort of magnetic pull. They fascinated him -- they could be fluffy and soft like a cloud, or hard and shaped like a stick. They could emanate elaborate color, or simply be dull and plain. They might have wings, tails, multiple legs -- it didn't matter. He loved them all the same.

Later in life, whenever it crossed his mind, he supposed that his enjoyment of animals as a child stemmed from an issue rooted deep within him -- a very dark issue. He believed that the main reason why his younger self was so drawn to animals is because they had something that he didn't -- innocence. This was sad, of course, because he'd only been a child at the time, no older than six or seven. Yet his innocence had already been torn from him, and it had felt like flesh being ripped from his body. He was exposed, and vulnerable enough to be manipulated by the darkest parts of the world -- particularly by his mother, who wasn't like a mother at all, and who showed him no mercy in the cruel experiments she performed on him.

So when the boy found an owl in the woods behind his house one day, he was thrilled.

He'd been slowly picking his way through the tall trees, trying to put as much distance as he could between him and his mother, when he stumbled upon the magical creature. It was a tiny thing with dark feathers, and after a few moments, he realized one of its wings was bent at an odd angle -- broken. It seemed to be peering up at him with its big round eyes, asking for help. He was happy to oblige.

So the boy scooped the owl into his tiny arms with extreme care, and began the short journey back to his family's manor house.

He wanted to help this thing, heal it, so it could roam the skies and be free again. He was excited to do it.

However, he knew he couldn't let his mother find out. He was pretty certain that she wouldn't be too happy about an owl shacking up in her manor, and he did not wish to suffer additional punishment on top of the painful rituals that he was already subjected to.

But he wanted to do this, anyways. It'd only been five minutes, and he'd already grown fond of the owl. He couldn't just abandon it back in the woods. So he resolved that he would take care of it in secret, and keep it from his mother the best he could.

The boy was able to hide the owl from his mother for awhile.

He kept it in a birdcage in the corner of his bedroom -- one that you had to walk really far in to see. He lined the bottom of the cage with scraps of the Daily Prophet, and brought it dead mice that he found out amongst the trees. He took care of it the best he could for being a boy no older than seven.

He started to get attached to the owl -- too attached, perhaps, simply because there was no other being in his household that he could share a safe, loving connection with. Often times, after the light in his room had flickered off for the night, he stayed awake and sidled himself up next to the bird cage, talking to his owl about whatever crossed his young mind. He told it when he was upset. He told it when he was excited. Most of all, though, he told it when he was fearful. He was fearful a lot.

He even gave the creature a name: Butterbeer. This was a treat which he rather enjoyed, but could only have on the rarest of occasions.

But of course, this happy relationship wasn't to last.

After several weeks of having his pet, and hiding it successfully (or so he thought), from his mother, the boy began to grow confident that she would never find it.

As you might be able to guess, this wasn't the case.

"Blaise, darling." A sing-song voice called up to his room one day, somehow reeking of malevolence. "You must come downstairs. Several friends of ours are here, and they require you to test a new spell out on."