Disclaimer: All recognisable characters are the property of J K Rowling. The plot and all other characters however are the creation of myself and various friends.

Authors Note: I am writing this story with help from friends. All suggestions and ideas are more than welcome, as the first part is set in a location of which I have no personal knowledge. Please let me know what you think. The story is set a few years after book 6 – Enjoy!

Chapter One

It was siesta time on the island of Ethosa. The inhabitants were retreating into their cool houses, closing the shutters in order to block out the strong mid afternoon sunlight. For the next two hours, the island's wide sandy beaches and cafes would be deserted as the hot Caribbean sun beat down, scorching and merciless. Even animals would slide into their burrows to rest, or slink into the trees on the mounting slopes to the north to find some shade.

The imposing white-washed bungalow, set in luscious tropical green foliage to the east side of the island, appeared cool and unruffled by the intense heat. The latticed shutters were all closed and the building exuded an air of tranquillity as the sun blazed down on it.

A handsome dark man stood in his spacious sitting room, staring with unseeing eyes out of the window, at the Southern side of the house. It was less than twelve hours until his twenty-fourth birthday and he wished that the clock would hurry up and tick away the hours.

Blaise Zabini had waited for this day longer than he cared to remember, as tomorrow he would, all being well, find out, after years of waiting, the identity of his mate. Mulling for what felt like the thousandth time over what was to come, he gazed around the airy room, feeling restless. How would he survive until later on, when he could, at last, begin the highly anticipated process of searching for her?

He wondered what she would look like, whether she would be fair skinned or dark in colour. Either way it did not seem to matter that much, he just needed to know exactly who she was and soon at that! He had been wondering about her ever since he could remember; a part of his mind forever conjuring up images of luscious young women he had seen in magazines or worked with and a few with whom he had been to school, though there would always be something missing and he would discard such feelings, hopelessness welling up inside his being.

He sighed to himself, imagining a beautiful young woman lying sprawled out and naked on his huge king-sized bed while he kissed every inch of her soft skin. He would make her forget everything, even her own name as he pleasured her again and again! He simply could not wait to discover her, though.

Restlessly, he moved to stand before a small glass case, in which stood a bottle of shimmering liquid. Taking it down from the shelf, he turned the small vial of liquid between his fingers and saw it dance and sparkle in the light as though composed of a thousand tiny stars. It reminded him of the Felix Felicis potion he had once seen at Hogwarts. This was, if possible, even brighter in colour than that had been and more gas-like in substance. The potion had required the best part of a year to brew and he had lost count of the number of hours he had spent labouring over the steaming cauldron in his private potions lab, meticulously adding ingredients, one of which was a drop of his own blood.

Tonight, he would drink this liquid and for the first time, he'd be free to search for his mate amidst the myriad of unclaimed females out there. He wondered how it would feel to be under the influence of this potion as he projected himself out of his own body into the world. He had of course mastered Transcendental Projection for ages now, his body and mind well used to the mental and physical exercises and agility needed to reach this state, which for those not naturally gifted in this area took years to refine. He regularly spent hours at night floating around the island and beyond in his transcendental state. This however would be different from those times; special, more challenging and even risky.

The sound of a knock brought him out of his musings, causing him to automatically call, "Enter!" whilst replacing the precious vial of potion back into its glass case.

The door was pushed open and Adriana Zabini glided into the room. Tall and slim, she possessed a lithe figure which was the envy of other witches, old and young. Her skin, still smooth and unlined, was darker than his own, her complexion a rich chocolate colour which contrasted magnificently with her bright green eyes. She smiled at him, revealing two rows of perfect white teeth.

"Blaise, how did I know you would not be sleeping?" she asked, in a low faintly accented voice, approaching him and gently tugging at his arm. "There is someone waiting for you by the indoor bowling alley, which you have not yet made use of!"

She was steering him towards the door as she carried on, "Go and join him. It will not do you any good to dwell on this evening more than needs be."

"Mother," he sighed, yanking out of her grip and walking down the corridor. "Honestly, this isn't a good time."

"Nonsense, it will do you good to talk to someone. See who it is. I'll join you shortly."

Blaise scowled to himself as he walked along, wondering who would want to visit during the hottest part of the day. Pushing open the heavy door of the room which had been converted, he saw Theodore Nott standing by one of the windows looking out. Theodore was holidaying on the island, but why he had chosen today of all days to visit, was beyond Blaise.

"Theodore, my man." He said, clapping him on the back in greeting.

"Blaise! You look like shit today." Theodore remarked, looking at the bags under his friend's eyes as he twirled one of the light-weight balls in his hand. "You'd think that a part-veela would look astonishingly attractive at all times. Clearly that's not the case."

"I hardly slept last night man," came the grave reply. "You wouldn't either, if you were close to discovering the person you're destined to spend the rest of your life with."

"Very true," Theodore frowned solemnly. "What time do you plan to take the potion?"

"After sundown. It's the best time according to the family records."

"Blimey, I still can't believe it you know," Theodore commented. "All these years you've waited for this day and now it's finally here."

Blaise laughed shortly. "Yeah, it's incredible." Then his veneer of calm cracking, he burst out, "What if it doesn't work and I can't find her? What am I supposed to do then?"

"We both know the chances of that are not worth considering so there is no need to worry."

They turned towards the speaker. At the sight of Adriana, Theodore focused a hypnotized gaze on her. Blaise would never become accustomed to Theodore ogling his mother as though she'd stepped out of a highly erotic dream, so he pinched his friend. Adriana smirked.

"Your earrings are very becoming on you, Madam," Theodore covered up hastily, positioning himself beside a bowling platform and raising the ball. "Amy's birthday is forthcoming and I'd like to purchase her a pair."

"I designed these myself and had them made by Damien Rozenski. I doubt you could afford them, precious," Came the condescending response.

Blaise wasn't sure, but for a split second he thought his friend had muttered, "Well if I'd murdered seven rich husbands, I'd be able to afford a million Damien Rozenskis." But he assumed that he'd heard wrong, for the ball rolling along the platform and causing a loud strike had drowned Theodore's voice.

"Very good," Adriana smirked. "Let's see you do that with a heavier ball now, shall we?"

"Mother!" Blaise said irritably. "Focus please!"

"Oh, right." His mother smiled at him and sat down on a large chair facing the platform. "What was I saying? Oh yes, you have done everything that the Zabini records say and more. By this time tomorrow, you will be making plans to woo the girl and it will all be over. Being jumpy and uptight will only serve to cloud your mind, and that is something you cannot afford."

Blaise already knew this of course, having heard it all before from infinite conversations and study, but the niggling doubt that had been eating away at him during the last few weeks persisted. Running agitated fingers through his own silky black hair, he knew that he was not normally one to leave anything to chance, preferring instead to plan things to the last detail to ensure that nothing went wrong. It was one of the things that made him such a force to be reckoned with during his school days as well as a formidable businessman.

"You're right," he conceded exasperatedly, absently watching his friend rifling through the bar and fishing out a bottle of wine, "but I find it difficult to leave the biggest deal of my life to chance. What if it goes wrong in some way or other and I start flagging before I get there? It's not unheard of and the girl may live at the North Pole for all I know."

"The potion has been strengthened so that does not occur, the records say so. You are not leaving it to chance. Your mate was determined at birth; all the potion will do is guide you to her, that is all. It will be a simple matter and before you know it, you will have found her. Personally, I will be glad when you have. Then you can go back to being yourself and not this uncertain and dithery individual you have become." His mother gave him an encouraging smile.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," he grumbled with a mock-scowl. "Remind me not to ask you to speak at my funeral."

Adriana's expression tensed at these words. "Do not joke about things like that," she responded in a nervous voice, the fingers of one hand plucking at the upholstery of the chair. "You do not know what you may be tempting." Her gaze turned to the bar and she called, "Nott, pour me a glass of wine."

"Make that two." Blaise said, cracking his knuckles. "And step on it!"

Theodore stared at him, a confused look on his face. "Step on it?" He asked, standing still whilst gripping the tray on which stood the glasses.

"I don't mean it literally, dolt. It's a muggle expression for 'make it quick.' If I had known that your stupidity would only further delay this, I wouldn't have said that."

Theodore scowled. "I'm not a house-elf, so kindly don't address me in that tone."

Adriana ignored this, saying instead, "Blaise, Please do not use such muggle expressions, they are so uncouth."

Blaise scowled. "So what? The world hasn't ended because I've used a muggle expression you know!"

"Whoa! Take it easy," Theodore placated, setting the tray on a near-by stool within their reach. "As you were saying, it'll be interesting to see who your mate is." He pulled up a third chair and seated himself.

"Yes, now that you mention it," Blaise frowned, handing his mother a glass, "I wonder what she'll be like, dark, fair or what?"

Adriana shook her head at this obsession. "Zabini men have always had a talent for choosing pretty women, only the best will do for you lot and you are not afraid to travel the world for it. Why, I do not believe there's one nationality that has not been represented at some point or another throughout the last few centuries. All have been beautiful women and very magical as well." She glanced at herself in a gilded mirror to emphasise her point.

"You always got the best of the bunch at school," Theodore chipped in. "It was maddening how all you needed to do was crook a finger and they'd come running."

"Not all of them," Blaise grumbled, his mind conjuring up a few luscious beauties in the other houses who had not dained to look at him because he had been in Slytherin.

"Those who didn't were the only ones with any common sense," his friend smirked.

"As long as she's good looking and fun to be with, I won't mind," Blaise declared. "Oh yeah, she has to be able to play a decent game of Quidditch as well."

His mother and Theodore both laughed out loud at this.

"A tall order, my man." His friend grinned, lightly punching him on the shoulder. "Decent looking female Quidditch players are hard to come by; I haven't yet heard of such a woman myself, and I should know. You can't have both things I fear; it's either talent or good looks, take your pick."

"I can dream, people. Don't deprive me of that at least. Still, I wonder whether she'll be dark or fair, or tall or short. What colour hair do you think she'll have?"

Adriana got to her feet and moved with purpose towards the door. "I do not know and would hate to guess. Now, are you ready for tonight?"

Clearly, she was intent on making an exit before he could launch into his favourite topic of conversation, speculation on his mate's attributes.

"As ready as I'll ever be." He replied, "The potion looks the way it should and I've spent the morning pigging out on high carbohydrate foods."

"Good, you will need all the energy you can get. A dose of Pepper-up potion probably will not go amiss either, just in case."

He grimaced. "Maybe, I'll see how I'm feeling this evening."

As soon as she'd shut the door behind her, he turned his attention to his friend.

"All this talking makes me feel like some serious shooting. Are you ready for a one-on-one round of bowling? And I mean with the heavy balls."


A cool breeze wafted in from the calm sea, fanning across the island with caressing fingers. Blaise looked out of his bedroom window enjoying the feel of the refreshing wind on his face. Darkness was falling swiftly over the island and lights were appearing in houses and restaurants. It would soon be time.

He glanced once more across the grounds of his home and smiled. This was the place that he loved to be best. This tiny all-wizarding Island in the Caribbean was, in his opinion, the perfect spot; quiet and tranquil. He only hoped that his mate would agree with him.

Turning away from the view of palm trees and white sand, illuminated by the lights that had come on in the gardens, he made his way to his bathroom and took a shower – it was time to prepare. He took the vial of gold liquid from its case in the sitting room and examined it as he prepared for bed, while maintaining a cautious grip on the vial. This had to work, it just had to. If he didn't find his mate, or became tired on the journey, the consequences for him would not be good.

Taking a deep breath, he slipped beneath the cool sheets, forcing his mind into the familiar ritual of relaxation. He started to breathe evenly, in through his nose and out through his mouth while at the same time, flexing first his fingers and toes, then his arms and legs. Soon his body had loosened up and the oxygen had been evenly distributed through it. Lying back, he began to concentrate on his diaphragm, inhaling and exhaling in measured breaths as his conscious mind began to slowly but surely close down. He clutched the small vial of potion, remembering to swallow it at the right moment by tipping the container down and gulping the tasteless liquid. Had he not done so, the whole exercise would have been futile.

His mind was becoming still and calm, induced by the rhythmic breathing pattern he was undertaking. A feeling of weightlessness was finally starting to overcome him. He could feel himself solidifying within his own mind, a form within himself as he prepared to exit his own body which was now lying still and inert beneath the sheets.

He felt himself start to rise, weightless and gloriously free. He looked down at his form and smirked a smirk that would do Draco Malfoy credit. How he loved this feeling of floating unchecked wherever he wanted to go. It was better than anything in the world, even flying. Of course, most wizards never achieved this blissful state of transcendentality, being far too deeply rooted to earth. The fools, they had no idea what they were missing and the possibilities this experience could open up.

Moving across the room, he hovered by the open window, wondering where he should go next. Then something happened that had never happened before. He felt himself drawn forward but not of his own volition. He blinked, unsure what was happening and then he remembered. The potion must be kicking in and executing its main purpose. He let himself be guided by a force of which he had no knowledge and soon he felt himself jolted sideways, almost like apparition, but not quite. He must have moved some considerable distance, across miles he could never have crossed so rapidly on his own steam. He had read about this phenomenon in the family records, and now understood why so much preparation was needed before the tracing of his mate could be attempted.

He looked up and saw that the moon was out, shining down on a patchwork of forests and mountains. He was also starting to understand what the family had meant when they said a person could become overtired during the journey to their mate and therefore not make it. That sideways jolt had really taken it out of him and he wished that he had taken that dose of pepper-up potion that his mother had suggested he take.

Once again, he felt himself jerked sideways as he was forced in a matter of seconds, across thousands of more miles. He hoped that he would be able to make it to his mate without difficulty as already energy was draining out of him as weakness engulfed him. He thought frantically that it would not be the first time that a Zabini did not survive the journey to find his mate, but the last death had been over two hundred years ago since which time, the potion had been enhanced and modified so that it would prevent this.

Blaise comforted himself with this fact but it didn't seem to be having much of an impact as again, he was jerked in a sideways motion. He could feel his body or what there was of it losing so much strength that he nervously glanced at himself, noticing that he was becoming translucent – a bad sign. Then he glanced at his surroundings and saw that he was travelling over fields and trees. Where he was, he had no idea. What he did know though was that he was cold and that his hands and feet were becoming numb, so that he was finding it difficult to feel his fingers and toes.

He was pulled inexorably forward, over what looked like a city, alive with bright lights and tiny people who looked no bigger than ants. Then he was moving across a motorway, the cars below him streaming past. He realised with a jolt that he was steadily slowing down. That must surely mean that he was close to the place! He willed himself to stay awake and hold on; it could not be too much longer now until he had found her. He felt another slight jerk and then felt the world around him shift as he was transported another few hundred miles. He had to hold on, for his sake and that of anyone else he could think of, he had to!

He forced his eyes open as he was pulled forward, determined to get through this journey in one piece. The world seemed to be coming closer to him and he wondered whether he was dying. If that were the case then it wasn't too bad. What the now-perished Lord Voldemort had been moaning about all along was beyond him. The fuzziness that was closing in on him was a welcome change from the cold and exhaustion he had previously been feeling. He was now sliding through an open window while frowning as he became aware that the wind was no longer whistling through him in increasingly piercing shafts. There was silence all around him and he wondered where he was. He lay still for a moment as his freezing and exhausted body regained its senses.

Then another scent, sweet and intoxicating, began filtering through his apathy and he felt himself twitch as though in recognition. The scent was the most wonderful he had ever smelled; naturally sweet and flowery with undertones of sensuality and freshness. It had been one of the smells given off by the love potion Amortentia that he had come across quite a few times before. He breathed the scent in; unable to get enough of it.

Where exactly was it coming from though? Dazedly, he lifted his head and stared around him in the dark.

He seemed to be in a medium-sized room, the shapes and texture of furniture were looming as he pulled himself into a sitting position but none was distinguishable. Feeling was starting to creep back into his frozen fingers and toes and he flexed them, eyes still trying to probe the dark for some clue as to his whereabouts.

A sound made him start with surprise as he stared. It wasn't loud but someone had turned over. He was sure he had heard the crack of bedsprings as the occupant of the bed briefly wriggled in their sleep. That must mean that he was in a bedroom but whose?

Excitement gripped him and forgetting the pins and needles shooting through his fingers and toes, he moved over to the bed, hovering above it and peering down. He could distinguish a lump under the duvet but nothing more. Whoever she was had pulled the bed-coverings over her head. He certainly hoped the figure was female. Now all he had to do was remove the wretched restricting barrier to see who was beneath, something that would not have been too difficult had he not been so tired. He was, however, in no doubt that this person curled up beneath the sheets, was his mate. Every sense was drawn to her, he had reached cloud nine!

He wondered if he could burrow beneath the bedclothes, maybe curl up beside her and let her warmth envelop him. Moving to the edge of the bed, he slid with difficulty beneath the large duvet and inched his way towards the figure lying curled on its side in the centre, deeply asleep. Soon he could feel the warmth emanating from her and all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and never let her go. Now he was lying beside her but because of his transcendentalised state, could not touch her nor feel her flesh against his.

It was pitch black beneath the sheets and he began to doubt the wisdom of crawling beneath the bedclothes with her. It may have been more sensible to remain on the bed, but that way he would not be able to enjoy her proximity or her amazing warmth. He breathed in great lungfuls of her scent, opening his mouth so that he could almost taste it. How he wished he was in his solid form right now. He would cover her body with his, tasting and kissing every inch of her skin while she writhed and moaned beneath him, begging him for more.

He blinked, wondering what to do. At least he had found her, now all he had to do was see what she looked like. Then he could project himself back to his own body, a simple task requiring little energy and begin carrying out his plans to woo her. Right now though, he was stuck beneath the bedclothes with no way of telling what his mate looked like, how infuriating could life get?

He pushed against the heavy duvet but it didn't budge. In this form, he was little more than a shadow, existing but not quite real as he tried to let a chink of light into the cocoon he and his mate were occupying. Normally, he would have been able to use wandless magic to accomplish this; although he was not especially skilled in the art, he was proficient enough to perform simple spells, but right now he was too tired to do so.

He cursed to himself as she shifted beside him. This was probably the most frustrating dilemma he had yet found himself in and he could think of no way around it other than waiting for his strength to return. Without this, how could he get himself out of this mess? Six years he had waited to find out who she was and now even though he was lying beside her, he didn't know. Some deity out there must be having a real laugh at his expense.

The woman beside him moved yet again, her sleep obviously restless as she tossed and turned, seemingly in the grip of a nightmare. Blaise wondered what she was dreaming about, as she let out a stifled moan before burying her face in the pillow. He longed to comfort her so that her sleep would remain nightmare free. Then to his immense relief, she kicked off the duvet and moonlight was streaming down on them making him blink. He screwed his eyes up in an effort to adjust to the brightness of the light.

He lay for a moment, franticly trying to focus on the woman beside him, but because his eyes had become accustomed to the darkness, everything was a blur of colour. Cursing them, the moonlight and anything that happened to slip into his mind, he finally managed to make out her form. Sitting up to gaze down at her, he hardly dared to breathe.

She was lying on her side facing him, curled up with her knees tucked under her chin. One arm was pillowing her cheek while the other rested on the bed beside her. His eyes moved to her face and he felt his jaw drop in astonishment as he recognized her.

Only one woman he had ever come across had that breathtakingly long, flaming, straight red hair and flawless skin so pale that it seemed to glow in the moonlight. She was as tiny as ever, her pyjamas outlining the luscious curves of her body. Her face had changed little since he'd last seen her. Her complexion appeared lighter in tone, but other than that, she was as fresh-faced as she had been seven years ago when miserably, he had boarded the Hogwarts Express at the end of his sixth year. He felt a smile of pure satisfaction tug at his mouth as he looked down into the sleeping face of a woman whom he had wanted for most of his Hogwarts years but who, through circumstance, had been unavailable to him until now. She was none other than the spirited, gorgeous, talented and all that was commendable, Ginny Weasley!


Blaise lay back in the luxurious warmth of his bed, savouring the feeling of being alive, healthy and above all, satisfied. Opening his eyes, he saw that a house-elf was standing at the foot of his bed, gazing at him.

"Master is awake?" it squeaked bowing.

"Yes." Blaise yawned and sat up in bed, feeling extremely happy. "Could you get me some breakfast, Tibby? Some rolls, yoghurt and some fruit will do. Oh, and inform Mother that I wish for a word with her." He felt so exhilarated that all he could do was grin broadly.

No doubt his mother hadn't had much sleep the night before and he was anxious to assure her that all was well. He was surprised that she wasn't sitting by his bed herself.

"Mistress was sitting by master's bedside all night and only left a while ago," the elf replied. "She asked Tibby to let her know when master was awake."

Then with a crack Tibby was gone, and Blaise leaned back against his pillows smiling to himself, his mind on the petite redhead he had glimpsed the night before, what a wonderful birthday present indeed!

Soon the elf had returned with a loaded breakfast tray and Blaise set about demolishing its contents. He felt as though he hadn't eaten for days, while consuming the food on the tray, he wondered what Ginny was doing today and whether her sleep had been disturbed by her nightmare. He hoped not.

A knock sounded on his door and without waiting for an invitation, Adriana, looking sleepy-eyed came in. "Blaise, are you ok?" she asked, sweeping across to him and bending, pecking him on the cheek. "I waited for you to get back and assure myself that you were all right before going to bed. Tibby has just awoken me."

Swallowing his mouthful, Blaise returned her smile. "Yes, Mother I'm fine. There was no need for you to wait for me though. As you can see, I got back all in one piece."

She sat down on the bed and gave him a searching look which he knew all too well. "Well?" she asked finally.

"Well, what?" he responded playfully before taking a large bite of melon.

"Did you find her?" Adriana shot him an exasperated look from beneath long lashes. "By the look of you, I'd say you have, so who is she?"

"Mother dear, you are impatient," he grinned. "Can't a chap finish his breakfast before being bombarded with questions like this?"

"No a 'chap' cannot, so out with it! Who is she? Do you know her? What does she look like?"

He leaned back against his pillows, considering her pensively.

"Calm down, I'll tell you all, but you must be patient. I have to admit that I was surprised when I realised who she was. I've seen her before. Hell, I went to school with the minx." A dreamy smile crossed his lips at the thought of said minx sprawled across his bed, whimpering and entreating as he showed her what real pleasure was.


His mother's irritated voice broke through his musings and he blinked, annoyed that she'd interrupted his blissful fantasy

"Huh? Oh yes, the girl. She was a year below me at Hogwarts, no idea what she's doing now. She'd had her share of boyfriends back then, all substituting for the all-mighty Potter. From what I heard, she and he were through before the year had ended. Clearly, he wasn't all he was cracked up to be." Satisfaction graced his tone as he spoke and he continued, "You may have heard of the family, the Weasleys? They're purebloods, although you wouldn't think it by the way they behave."

"Oh, the Weasleys? Certainly I have heard of them, who hasn't? The girl, is she the daughter?" Excitement laced Adriana's voice as she leaned forward eagerly. "I hear she is very beautiful, not to mention talented. How could she not be, being descended from the Prewetts?"

"Yeah, that's the one, Ginny Weasley and what a looker she is too! That red hair and fiery temperament, it's enough to make any man want to-"He broke off and smiled to himself. He could remember all too clearly how he, along with most of Hogwarts male population had drooled over her. Well, now she would be his, and his alone!

"Ginny? Surely that cannot be the girl's name?" Adriana asked with distaste. "Why, it's a muggle name. Think how it would sound."

"Oh it's short for something or other, but who cares about that right now. I need to get to Britain and start wooing her. The quicker I claim her, the better all round. She's far too popular for her own good, my Ginny."

"Why is it that whenever there's a woman involved, men's brains seem to sink to groin level? You need to be tactful and subtle. If what I hear is true, then she is surrounded by muggle-lovers and you, my boy, will not be on her list of favourite men. No, what you need to do is get her over here. You will stand a much better chance of pursuit without all those brothers of hers constantly surrounding her. As the youngest child and only daughter, she's well protected in Britain – something I fear will prove problematic. I will get Manks to research the girl's background thoroughly so we know what we are dealing with."

"Well Mother dear, I already put Manks on the case when I got back. He should have the information for us as soon as possible."

As though Blaise's words were a stage prompt, a knock sounded on the door and Adriana got up to open it.

Manks was a tall stooping man who had been part of the Zabini staff for as long as Blaise could remember. He was quiet, efficient and able to get jobs done with minimum fuss. He now stepped into the room and shut the door behind him.

"Well, Manks?" Blaise asked pushing his breakfast tray away and surveying the other man eagerly. "Have you the information I want?"

"Yes Master Zabini, it wasn't difficult to find. The girl is well known in British wizarding society."

He handed Blaise a thick file and sketching a hasty bow, left the room.

"Hmm, this lot should keep me going for a while," Blaise mused, opening the file. "There you go Mother, her full name is Ginevra. Not even you can scoff at that!"

Adriana made a non-committal sound as she moved to stand at her son's shoulder so she could read Mank's neat writing.

The first few pages of the file consisted of Information such as the girl's birthday, present address, background and so on. Then came a list of her OWL and NEWT scores and then finally it started on her career. This too, Blaise glossed over, his interest focused on the more private aspects of his mate's life.

Finally he found what he was looking for, a list of her past boyfriends and the types of relationships she had had with them. His eyes moved down the list until they reached the last name. He stared at the words written by the name, horror flooding him as their impact registered on his stunned mind.

"No!" he roared leaping up sending the folder tumbling to the floor. "No, it can't be… I won't let it… No!"

Blood was racing through his veins in torrents and a red mist was starting to form in front of his eyes as he tried to control his temper. If he didn't act soon, he was in danger of losing her for good, a thought that was too terrible to contemplate.