— Guys, has anyone seen Daphne? She was supposed to come back from home today," Blaze chattered convulsively, approaching the sofa in the Slytherin dungeons. Being the head prefect, he was here extremely rarely and then either because of the parties or for her sake.
Malfoy's voice was as cold and indifferent as ever, but regret was drowning in his gray eyes. It was like he was saying, "I'm sorry." But no, he was silent and Blaze was unspeakably scared. Daphne and Astoria should have returned from their sudden trip home an hour ago. She wrote to him about it. The letter was very short and dry, no heart dots at the end. It's not like her at all. Zabini came out of the dungeons and went in search of the girl.
— Story! He called out to the younger Greengrass. The blonde was standing with her back to him, looking out the window, hugging herself. She looked like a wax figure, the only thing that destroyed the image was her shoulders often shaking from mute sobs. — Story, where's Daphne? Why are you crying? — the Slytherin threw her blond hair back, tossed her head to look into her friend's brown eyes. Into eyes filled with love and excitement for her older sister. Astoria didn't want to be a messenger of bad news, she knew that Daphne had to tell everything herself.
— We arrived ten minutes ago, she went to you, — Blaze wanted to make sure that everything was fine with Astoria, that she would not be left standing here in proud solitude, crying and reproaching herself for something, when shuffling sounds were heard behind her. The boy who survived. He's with Story. As always. He doesn't need to go down to the dungeons for another purpose. "Go to her, Blaze.
He went. No, I ran. With all his legs he rushed to the headmen's tower. Bad thoughts were brewing in his head and smoke was already pouring out of his ears. Panic was rising in my throat. He was tempted to stop and throw up all the accumulated bile. Damn excitement and fear. Blaze hated that fucking feeling. — Daphne! He shouted, running up the stairs to his room. She knew the password, so she passed through the portrait unhindered and went up to his chambers. That only made it scarier. He could no longer restrain himself, he wanted to see her as soon as possible. "Daphne," he repeated, quieter and more broken because of shortness of breath. Once at the aisle, he paused for a moment and then pushed the door open. She was sitting on his bed, hugging his left arm and whimpering softly. — Honey?
— Blaze, — the Slytherin couldn't lift her head to look into his eyes. She loved his eyes so much... But now she couldn't bear their warmth, as if she didn't deserve it. The guy slowly approached her and squatted down, gently covering her knees with his palms.
—Honey," he wanted to say something else, but when he saw her eyes swollen from tears and her bitten lips parted, he couldn't.
"I couldn't, Blaze. They wanted to do it with Astoria. She's too young and pure for that. I couldn't let him," the girl finally looked at him. Zabini has not seen so much pain and sorrow for a long time. And I never thought that I would see it in my beloved eyes. Not Daphne...
"He chose Astoria, but I screamed, asked him to choose me, take me," she sobbed loudly and lowered her left hand so that Blaze could see the ugly black pattern on her forearm and the red skin around the careless lines of darkness. The mark looked completely foreign on her white skin. It shouldn't have happened to her, not to his Daphne. "I belong to him now, Blaze. I didn't want it so much, but I belong to him.
Words were superfluous. Zabini slowly kissed Daphne's palm, wanted to run his fingers over the fresh mark, but saw how Greengrass bent from a light touch and realized that it still hurt like hell.
They lay in his bed until the next morning. She was crying, and he was hugging her, singing some lullaby about a better world of the future.