Lyrical Muses: My Violent Heart - NIN.
Title: Spaces Where My Heart Used To Be.
Song: My Violent Heart - NIN.
Character: Blaise Zabini.
Rating: R.
Pairing(s): Blaise/Tom implied.
Fandom(s): Harry Potter.
Author's Note: I don't own them, alas, if I did, Blaise would look like Hans Matheson.
Word count: 1153.
You and I, we may look the same
But we are very far apart
There's bullet holes where my compassion used to be
And there is violence in my heart
Into fire you can send us
From the fire we return
You can label us a consequence of how much you have to learn.
Blaise keeps his face carefully schooled in an expression of neutrality. Things are in motion now that he has no power to change. He watches with apparent dispassion as his lover, the Dark Lord, orders the raid on Godric's Hollow. Blaise knows from his own future - past - that this is the night when Harry Potter's parents will be killed and his lover lessened. He's waited for this night for so long he's lost count of the days.
The old love is still there. Blaise can't deny it, when he looks at the Dark Lord and doesn't listen to him, he sees the person he fell in love with - the dark hair, pale skin, eyes full of wit and intelligence and power, although they're no longer the green-blue he remembers. Now they are red. The eyes of the serpent, the eyes of someone with more power than they should have. Blaise sighs softly, his defences up as high as they can go. The Dark Lord may regret having taught Blaise Legilimency and Occlumency nowadays, but Blaise is damn grateful he did. It keeps his thoughts private and exclusively his.
They haven't shared a bed in weeks. Blaise is rarely around these days, and the Dark Lord is more interested in his power, his pride, his plans for domination. Blaise spends his time walking the streets of London, looking for what he lost. Sometimes, he finds it in dark back alleys in Soho, a quick exchange of crumpled pound notes for favours and he can pretend for those few moments that the hair he has his hands tangled in belongs to someone else. He can pretend those lips kissing his belong to someone he fell in love with. But when the time is up, then the game of pretend is over and Blaise is back the way he was before: alone.
You have set something in motion
Much greater than you've ever known
Standing there in all your grand naivety
About to reap what you have sown
Time will feed upon your weaknesses
And soon you'll lose the will to care
When you return to the place that you call home
We will be there we will be there.
Blaise's eyes flicker across the faces of the Death Eaters, their zeal reflected in their smirks and agitated mutterings. Briefly, his gaze lingers on the dark eyes of Severus Snape - his ally, perhaps his only ally. The Potions Master just looks at Blaise and gives him the barest of nods. It is enough. Blaise rakes a hand through his shoulder length hair and leans against the wall, lighting a cigarette as he watches.
The Dark Lord's words reach a crescendo and the Death Eaters cheer in jubilant rejoicing. Blaise barely hides his sneer. He warned Tom, long ago, warned him of what hubris would do, but the Dark Lord no longer seeks Blaise's council and only rarely seeks his body. Tonight, that's all going to change. Blaise silently apologises to Harry for what he's about to do, but there's no choice. This is the lesser of two evils. Some must be sacrificed in order for all to be saved.
The Death Eaters disperse, going to take up their positions around Godric's Hollow and the Dark Lord walks over to Blaise, his head held high, his expression of pride almost marring his handsome face.
"Walk with me."
Blaise pushes himself off the wall but doesn't speak, falls into step with the Dark Lord. They walk outside and idly, Blaise realises that it's going to storm. The stars are blotted out by clouds and flashes of lightning zigzag across them. There's a rumble of thunder in the distance and he smiles grimly. Perfect weather for what will happen tonight.
"You will come with me, tonight." The Dark Lord does not look at Blaise.
"Yeah, all right." Blaise doesn't look at the Dark Lord either.
The Dark Lord stops walking and looks up at the sky. Softly, he says in a voice that Blaise almost believes to be genuine - except that the eyes in the face speaking with that voice tell him that it's not, "I need you with me, you understand that, don't you, Blaise?"
"Yeah."
On hands and knees
We crawl
You can not stop us all
Our blood will stain
We will not go away
On hands and knees
We crawl
You can not stop us all.
Blaise is running, his arms full of black robes and his mind full of screaming. Behind him, the house in Godric's Hollow burns, flames shooting into the sky. He takes a quick look at his surroundings and then Disapparates with the bundle in his arms.
What went wrong? I planned everything! The voice in Blaise's mind is filled with genuine confusion and fear.
Blaise smiles, that same grim, humourless smile as he walks through the streets of Sofia, capital of Bulgaria with the bundle in his arms. He speaks out loud. "I warned you, Tom. I told you this would happen, but you forgot."
There is a long, long silence as Blaise steals food from a greengrocer and Disapparates them again, to Kiev in Russia. After he's Disapparated them halfway across Eastern Europe, ending in the city of St. Petersburg, Blaise relaxes.
I'm sorry. It's the first time since Sofia that the voice has spoken in his mind. Blaise shakes his head.
"It's a bit late for that, my lord," he says quietly.
I…
"You nothing." Blaise barks a laugh at the absolute truth of that statement. "We're nothing. Pieces of shit floating in time. 's you and me, Tom, always and forever. Damned together."
Blaise…
"Shut up."
What are you going to do? The question is soft, full of fear.
"What I always do." Blaise breaks into a cellar of a pub, spies a pile of sacks in the corner and goes to sit down and rest. "Take care of the both of us."
You really hate me. Tom's voice in his mind is full of misery. Blaise shakes his head and gets comfortable on the sacks.
"Nope." He lies down, taking care with his bundle, all that is left of the great Dark Lord after Godric's Hollow. "I've always loved you, Tom. And that? That is the most fucked up thing of all. Now shut up. I'm tired."
And Tom is silent.
Song: My Violent Heart - NIN.
Character: Blaise Zabini.
Rating: R.
Pairing(s): Blaise/Tom implied.
Fandom(s): Harry Potter.
Author's Note: I don't own them, alas, if I did, Blaise would look like Hans Matheson.
Word count: 1153.
You and I, we may look the same
But we are very far apart
There's bullet holes where my compassion used to be
And there is violence in my heart
Into fire you can send us
From the fire we return
You can label us a consequence of how much you have to learn.
Blaise keeps his face carefully schooled in an expression of neutrality. Things are in motion now that he has no power to change. He watches with apparent dispassion as his lover, the Dark Lord, orders the raid on Godric's Hollow. Blaise knows from his own future - past - that this is the night when Harry Potter's parents will be killed and his lover lessened. He's waited for this night for so long he's lost count of the days.
The old love is still there. Blaise can't deny it, when he looks at the Dark Lord and doesn't listen to him, he sees the person he fell in love with - the dark hair, pale skin, eyes full of wit and intelligence and power, although they're no longer the green-blue he remembers. Now they are red. The eyes of the serpent, the eyes of someone with more power than they should have. Blaise sighs softly, his defences up as high as they can go. The Dark Lord may regret having taught Blaise Legilimency and Occlumency nowadays, but Blaise is damn grateful he did. It keeps his thoughts private and exclusively his.
They haven't shared a bed in weeks. Blaise is rarely around these days, and the Dark Lord is more interested in his power, his pride, his plans for domination. Blaise spends his time walking the streets of London, looking for what he lost. Sometimes, he finds it in dark back alleys in Soho, a quick exchange of crumpled pound notes for favours and he can pretend for those few moments that the hair he has his hands tangled in belongs to someone else. He can pretend those lips kissing his belong to someone he fell in love with. But when the time is up, then the game of pretend is over and Blaise is back the way he was before: alone.
You have set something in motion
Much greater than you've ever known
Standing there in all your grand naivety
About to reap what you have sown
Time will feed upon your weaknesses
And soon you'll lose the will to care
When you return to the place that you call home
We will be there we will be there.
Blaise's eyes flicker across the faces of the Death Eaters, their zeal reflected in their smirks and agitated mutterings. Briefly, his gaze lingers on the dark eyes of Severus Snape - his ally, perhaps his only ally. The Potions Master just looks at Blaise and gives him the barest of nods. It is enough. Blaise rakes a hand through his shoulder length hair and leans against the wall, lighting a cigarette as he watches.
The Dark Lord's words reach a crescendo and the Death Eaters cheer in jubilant rejoicing. Blaise barely hides his sneer. He warned Tom, long ago, warned him of what hubris would do, but the Dark Lord no longer seeks Blaise's council and only rarely seeks his body. Tonight, that's all going to change. Blaise silently apologises to Harry for what he's about to do, but there's no choice. This is the lesser of two evils. Some must be sacrificed in order for all to be saved.
The Death Eaters disperse, going to take up their positions around Godric's Hollow and the Dark Lord walks over to Blaise, his head held high, his expression of pride almost marring his handsome face.
"Walk with me."
Blaise pushes himself off the wall but doesn't speak, falls into step with the Dark Lord. They walk outside and idly, Blaise realises that it's going to storm. The stars are blotted out by clouds and flashes of lightning zigzag across them. There's a rumble of thunder in the distance and he smiles grimly. Perfect weather for what will happen tonight.
"You will come with me, tonight." The Dark Lord does not look at Blaise.
"Yeah, all right." Blaise doesn't look at the Dark Lord either.
The Dark Lord stops walking and looks up at the sky. Softly, he says in a voice that Blaise almost believes to be genuine - except that the eyes in the face speaking with that voice tell him that it's not, "I need you with me, you understand that, don't you, Blaise?"
"Yeah."
On hands and knees
We crawl
You can not stop us all
Our blood will stain
We will not go away
On hands and knees
We crawl
You can not stop us all.
Blaise is running, his arms full of black robes and his mind full of screaming. Behind him, the house in Godric's Hollow burns, flames shooting into the sky. He takes a quick look at his surroundings and then Disapparates with the bundle in his arms.
What went wrong? I planned everything! The voice in Blaise's mind is filled with genuine confusion and fear.
Blaise smiles, that same grim, humourless smile as he walks through the streets of Sofia, capital of Bulgaria with the bundle in his arms. He speaks out loud. "I warned you, Tom. I told you this would happen, but you forgot."
There is a long, long silence as Blaise steals food from a greengrocer and Disapparates them again, to Kiev in Russia. After he's Disapparated them halfway across Eastern Europe, ending in the city of St. Petersburg, Blaise relaxes.
I'm sorry. It's the first time since Sofia that the voice has spoken in his mind. Blaise shakes his head.
"It's a bit late for that, my lord," he says quietly.
I…
"You nothing." Blaise barks a laugh at the absolute truth of that statement. "We're nothing. Pieces of shit floating in time. 's you and me, Tom, always and forever. Damned together."
Blaise…
"Shut up."
What are you going to do? The question is soft, full of fear.
"What I always do." Blaise breaks into a cellar of a pub, spies a pile of sacks in the corner and goes to sit down and rest. "Take care of the both of us."
You really hate me. Tom's voice in his mind is full of misery. Blaise shakes his head and gets comfortable on the sacks.
"Nope." He lies down, taking care with his bundle, all that is left of the great Dark Lord after Godric's Hollow. "I've always loved you, Tom. And that? That is the most fucked up thing of all. Now shut up. I'm tired."
And Tom is silent.