15 June 1996: A Dark Storm Rising

He sat opposite us, his long fingers crossed, his long, thin beard dipping low, nearing the top of the desk.  His icy blue eyes stared at me with intensity that penetrated my soul. The question he'd asked demanded an answer that would change my future forever, and I felt the heat of my family's gaze behind me. My eyes shot to the floor, uncertain.

"I asked, Mr. Zabini," he repeated, his soft voice seething, "would you like to join us at Durmstrang?"

I inhaled slowly and deeply, trying to maintain my composure. This was not a decision that I could make in the heat of the moment; I needed to take some time to think over the risks and rewards, the insight that my family provided, and the decision they wanted to hear.

With the rise of disappearances and Death Eater attacks, I knew that they wanted me to leave Hogwarts for fear that I would be injured in the midst of You-Know-Who trying to get to Potter. Durmstrang certainly offered a lot that would keep me safe, such as their in-depth Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum. Even though the program secretly trained students to learn and enjoy the Dark Arts, I had no interest in becoming a Death Eater myself or supporting their cause and could use the tactics to keep myself protected.

My mother agreed: She wanted me to transfer so that I would be away from the drama, so that I would be safe. My father, on the other hand, agreed for a different reason. He and the Headmaster himself were both Death Eaters, and he wanted the Headmaster to persuade me to join the cause as well. I wouldn't, though, no matter the consequences.

Their stares made me feel flushed, overwhelmed. My parents wanted an eager yes out of me, but my opposition created a knot in my stomach. I couldn't do anything but speak the truth: "No. No, thank you, Headmaster."

With palpable tension in the air, and an almost audible gasp from my mother, I rose to my feet and offered my hand to the Durmstrang Headmaster. "It was truly a pleasure meeting you, sir," I said, a smile on my face. "I'm just afraid to leave my friends behind."

My dark robes cascading over my ankles, I turned and strode past my parents without even glancing at them. Though we did not make eye contact, I could feel their angry and disappointed stares gazing into my depths. Tears stung at my eyes knowing that I couldn't do what my parents expected, but I knew that it was not where I belonged, especially given the perpetual pressure to follow in my father's footsteps.

Mother's hand feebly reached out for mine as I walked by, but she was too far away. The tips of her fingers barely brushed against my robes. A sniffle escaped her as she tried to keep her composure in front of my father and the Headmaster. I blinked hard, a tear falling onto my cheek. I just wanted to go home.

I rounded the spiral staircase that descended from the Headmaster's office. If I could just find a fireplace and some Floo Powder before my parents caught up with me, but I knew that wouldn't happen. My mother's heels were already clicking loudly down the stone corridors, and my father's lumbering stomps were intermingled with them. If my mother got to me first, it would be better. She'd express her disappointment, maybe cry a little.

But Father? He'd want to throttle me for not following in his footsteps, for not doing what Malfoy was so ready to do for his family. He probably would throttle me when we got home. But if I could just get to a fireplace before they reached me, I could go someplace else.

A small yet firm hand on my shoulder. Mother. As she gripped my shoulder and stopped me, I breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm sorry, Mother," I whispered. "I don't know that it'd be safer for me here, and we both know why."

"He'll kill us if you don't, Blaise."

I knew she wasn't talking about my father, or even about the Headmaster. She was speaking of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and she was right. I was being selfish. Could I really live with myself if I didn't accept the position at Durmstrang, which would in turn subject my family to hellish torture and certain death? Of course I couldn't, but then I probably wouldn't live to see that happen, anyways. Or maybe I would, only to be killed afterward.

My eyes met my mother's, and I saw a fear that I'd never known before emanating from her. She was pleading with me to come to this school, but I wouldn't. Not just because it was what they wanted, but because I was better than that. And I would survive it.

My father turned the corner and looked around, trying to decide which way to go to catch up with us. When he saw my mother and I, his eyes flickered with disdain. There was very little that I was afraid of in this world, a point I think proven by not giving in to going to Durmstrang, but my father was a different story. His loyalty to You-Know-Who was frightening, and his drive to replace the Malfoys, the Lestranges, and the Greybacks as his second-in-command was even worse. Both my mother and I knew that he would do whatever it took to get there, and that was the scariest part of it all.

The impromptu decision I'd just made would have consequences that I would have to face eventually, and my father would make sure that it was sooner rather than later. As he walked over, I saw his hands clench into fists, his teeth stretch into a snarl. He'd make sure I'd regret the choice I just made until his dying breath, which was imminent now, I was sure.

"Dad, please," I whispered.

My mother glanced quickly at him, then back at me.

"You've done this," she said, dropping her hand and backing away from me. As much as she wanted to protect me, she was just as afraid of my father as I was. His hands on my shoulders weren't so soft.

A quiet whimper escaped me. "Please, not here," I plead. "I know I deserve it, but please wait until we're home. I just want to go home."

I wouldn't look him in the eyes, for fear that he'd cast some wandless magic spell on me through his eyes. Of course, it was ridiculous to think he could do that, but it just goes to show you how frightened I am of my father.

He drew me close to him and hissed, "What have you done?"

Pushing away from me as hard as he could, I nearly lost my footing. I caught myself just before my equilibrium was thrown too far off, and looked at my mother for help. She wouldn't look at me, and I knew she would blame me for whatever happened henceforth. My lower lip quivered for a second, but I recovered quickly.

To my left, there was a fireplace with a small jar of Floo powder. Without a second thought, I grabbed a fistful and cried, "Malfoy Manor!"

The last thing I saw before the green flamed engulfed me was a scene I'll never forget. My mother, small and fragile, turned away from my father, his large shadowy figure looming over her with a hand raised in the air. All I could hope for was that he hadn't hurt her.

I had no idea what I was going to do.  I had this opportunity placed in front of me -- something to get my family out of the disgrace that had befallen us due to my father.  But how could I do it?  My father was, of course, pressuring me to do what needed to be done.  My mother could not -- or would not -- stand up to my father.  Juniper would barely look at me anymore.  But I had to do it... what else could be done?  Nothing.  I feared him more than anybody... and I was not going to go against his wishes.  There was no way I was strong enough to defy him.

I heard the wooshing noise of someone Flooing into our house.  I had not been aware of anyone coming over.  I was a little afraid of who it may be -- was someone coming to check in on me?  To see what was going on?  I stepped towards the living room and was relieved to see my mate, Blaise.  "Hey..." I said, not sure why he would be coming here.  He looked a little frantic-- well, as frantic as any of us Slytherins let show anyways.

Draco's familiar face sent me into tears and wracking sobs. I fell out of the fireplace and onto the floor, barely holding myself together. I knew he was under the same pressure that I was, and I needed to hear what he was doing. Besides, he was my very best friend. He knew everything about me, things I couldn't tell anyone else.

"Draco," I managed, "I'm so sorry."

I rushed to my friend's aid and put a hand on his shoulder, slightly awkward.  I did not do well with crying people.  "What happened?" I asked, though I had a feeling I knew exactly what he was apologizing for.  And it was not coming to me at random; it was for why he had come here to escape.  I knelt down next to him and wanted to get him to look at me.  "Blaise... you know it's not safe for you here.  Not now..."  I hope he realized that.

I knew Draco was right. With pressure building for us to join the ranks of our fathers, I was putting both him and his family in danger just by being here, especially after just having declined Durmstrang. "I know," I sobbed. "I just didn't know where else to go... They took me to Durmstrang, Draco. I said no. I couldn't... I couldn't do it."

Everything was blurred by tears for my mother, for my friend, for everyone who couldn't make a choice for themselves. I'd always wondered if Draco had ever really gone through with it, but I couldn't ask him. It terrified me to ask him.

I looked over at him, his features watery through my tears. I'd always thought he was extremely handsome. Pity for him somehow clouded my opinion, though. "What do I do?" I asked.

I pulled Blaise into the next room and closed the door behind us.  I wished that I could have been as strong as what my friend was -- granted, at the moment he may appear weak to some... but to me, he seemed so strong.  I wished that I had a way to help him more than I did.  I looked Blaise in the eyes, my hands on his shoulders.  "I will help you the best I can," I assured him.  I had no idea how I could do it, but I was not about to let my mate just be thrown into the wrath of the Dark Lord.  I had to at least help him get a head start.  On what, I had no clue. 

I ran a hand through my blonde hair.  "You are bloody absurd for what you just did," I said, shaking my head.  "But Blaise... you got out.  Which is great.  We just have got to figure out a way to keep you from getting dragged back into this mess."

"He's going to kill them because of this," I cried. "What am I going to do?"

As much as I'd love to say that my father deserved it, I still loved him as my father. I didn't want anything bad to happen to him any more than I wanted anything bad to happen to Mother. Knowing that my thoughtless decision would create impending doom washed me with guilt.

At the same time, it was good to hear Draco's praise. I just hoped he'd be able to get out in time, too.

I bit my lip slightly.  "Killing them might be too simple," I said sadly.  I could only imagine what the Dark Lord would do to them.  But it would never be the most logical thing... he would want Blaise to suffer.  And sadly, suffering at the hand of the Dark Lord meant worse than death at times.

"If you're going to attempt to save them... you could die," I said quietly.  Not that I wanted Blaise to be selfish -- I understood his relationhip with his parents all too well... it was the same relationship that I had with my own.  Which was why I was doing what I had to do to protect them.

My sobs were beginning to subside, and as I listened to Draco, I had to admit that I didn't like what I was hearing. He was right, of course. My parents and I would all suffer at the hands of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named because of what I'd done, and if I wanted to help them, I'd risk my own skin all over again. Could I do that?

I looked down at the floor and blinked back the last of my tears. "What are you going to do?" I asked cautiously. "For your family, I mean."

I felt tears come to my eyes.  The Dark Lord threatened to kill my family -- my parents... Juniper.  I could not let that happen.  if I ran, I would forsaken all of them.  If it were just my parents... I might have found it in myself to leave.  But Juniper did not deserve that; and, in all actuality, there was no way I could do that to my parents.  I loved them in a manner of speaking.  I sat down on the sofa and put my face in my hands for a moment, debating on how I was to tell Blaise what I was going to do. 

I looked up at him and took a deep breath before speaking.  "I don't know," I said, the tears evident in my voice.  "If it were just me... but Juniper - she doesn't deserve this," I said, unsure if I was admitting that I was too cowardly to fight against this or if I was admitting that I was brave enough to step up to protect my family.