Autor: Moku

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JKR

Comment: It's the translation of my FF "Asche zu Asche"

Pairing: BZ/DM

Thanks to my betas: KunoichiAddy and meicdon13

Dust to Dust

Blaise opened his eyes, and stared at the ceiling of his four-poster bed before rolling over.

Suddenly shrinking back in surprise, Blaise looked at the sleeping face of one Draco Malfoy. Putting a hand on his chest to soothe the rapid beating of his heart, Blaise heaved a deep sigh and smiled to himself. Moving to support his body with one arm, the wizard joyfully gazed at the blond boy beside him.

Draco had started sleeping in the brunette's bed two days ago, and Blaise had yet to grow used to the sight. Slowly, he lifted his hand to touch the pale face, chuckling when he saw a slow smile creeping over his friend's lips at the contact. His fingers gently traced the jawline, thumb fleetingly touching the blond's upper lip until his hand caressed the silky blond hair.

Blaise had always wanted to ruffle the neatly arranged hair, but while awake, Draco made sure that no one came anywhere remotely close to his head. A mischievous glimmer appeared in the dark-haired boy's eyes. Draco can't do anything about it when he is sleeping, he thought.

"Stop it, Blaise," Draco suddenly mumbled, slapping the offensive hand away and rolled over, taking the blanket with him. Blaise smiled lovingly at his boyfriend and brushed Draco's forehead with his lips, before standing up and walking into the bathroom.

Confusedly, Blaise noticed that his toothbrush and other belongings were missing. After a moment, his eyes widened with understanding, and he smacked his forehead with his hand. He just couldn't get used to it.

Leaving the bathroom, he threw one final look at Draco and left the room he had been sharing with the other boys. Walking downstairs to the Slytherin coomon room, Blaise paused in front of the massive wooden door.

"I think he is sleeping in Blaise's bed."

Turning towards the voice, Blaise spotted Pansy sitting on the couch and creating small air globes that she proceeded to toss into the burning fireplace.

"That's just sick," Millicent responded from an armchair next to the occupied couch and carefully observed the behaviour of the other girl with narrowed eyes, looking like she was restraining herself from grabbing the brunette's wand to stop her.

"Don't say that, Milli."

"But it's true!"

"You know, Draco—"

Suddenly, the door to the Slytherin common room opened, interrupting whatever Pansy was planning to say. Two third year students entered the room, flipping through each other's comic books that were most likely not intended for their age group.

Shrugging, Blaise left the room and continued on his way without a specific destination in mind. It was rather early in the morning, and most of Hogwarts inhabitants would not awaken for a few more hours.

Slowly following the dark corridor with one hand lazily wandering along the wall, Blaise remembered a cold day in winter, and he spontaneously started to chuckle. Removing the hand from the cool stones, the boy quickened his pace, a clear destination formed in his head.

By now May had come upon the castle, and as soon as Blaise reached the grounds, he was met with a soft breeze and the sweet odors of various vernal flowers.

Blaise always felt happy when he was outdoors unlike Draco, who tried his hardest to stay inside the castle, only leaving it for Quidditch training, Care of Magical Creatures or Herbology.

The boys had always been arguing over this topic, and oftentimes, Blaise gave in and accepted the nature less fate that would befall him if he intended to stay by Draco's side. However, sometimes, when Draco was especially cheerful, he would drag Blaise outside and sit down somewhere in the grass, trying, and failing, to look as though it hadn't been difficult crossing the threshold into natural world.

It was on one of these days that Blaise "pounced" on Draco, or at least that's how the blond described it. Blaise never objected to Draco's false retelling, knowing that the boy would throw a fit if Blaise told everyone what really had happened that day.

Blaise stopped at the waterside of the the Black Lake, stooping over to touch a flat, grey stone.

He would always cherish that stone; for it was what set everything into motion.


It was their sixth year. Hogwarts had been brimming with anticipation for the nearing holiday, and the steady snowfall only enhanced the excited atmosphere. However, Draco was a mess. He was constantly forgetting his homework, leaving his textbooks in classrooms, and screwing up every charm they were supposed to be learning. Blaise knew that it was more or less his fault; his confession must have completely unsettled the blond.

Draco's friends had been worried, but they never talked about his strange behavior, knowing that Draco would come to them if he wanted to talk.

One day Draco snapped at one of the first year Slytherins, whose quill had been scraping too loudly on the paper, and the blond proceeded to stomp out of the common room. Immediately, every pair of eyes turned towards Blaise, who responded with a heavy sigh. He asked Theodore, who was about to go downstairs, to get him two cloaks. Upon Theodore's return, Blaise grabbed the cloaks and left the common room.


"Still lingering, Zabini?" the Bloody Baron grumbled, interrupting Blaise's memory.

"Still gloomy, Bloody Baron?" Blaise responded with a smirk on his face. The ghost threw a withering look at him.

"Isn't it time to go?"

"Probably," the dark haired boy mumbled, refelexively throwing a look at his watch. "But I still have some time left."

"Don't stay for too long," the ghost adviced, disappearing into the castle as fast as possible.

Blaise ignored the words, trying to bury himself in his memories again.


When he caught up to Draco, Blaise wasn't surprised to find that the blond had already been waiting for him with his hand held out expectantly. Blaise chuckled and handed one of the claoks over to the other wizard, who immediately put it on, rubbing warmth into his arms.

"It's cold," Draco mumbled sulkily.

"I noticed," Blaise quietly added.

Both fell silent. While Draco was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, Blaise noticed that the blond was continuously looking at him, steadily moving closer, and all the while, trying to hide his face in his cloak.

Just as Blaise was about to stretch his arm out to place it around the other boy's shoulder, Draco slipped on a flat grey stone. With a shocked squeal, the falling boy grapped Blaise's arm to stabilize himself but his action only resulted in dragging them both down in the snow.

Blaise was completely disoriented for a moment, but he quickly noticed that not even in the wizarding world was the ground able to breathe and groan – at least, not so that he could actually hear it.

Surprised, he turned his head and stared into the quicksilver eyes. Attempting to hastily get up and away, Blaise's motion was stopped by a hand gripping his sleeve. When he looked back at Draco, he saw the other Slytherin glancing to the side, still gripping his sleeve and pulling it.

"…too…," the blond eventually mumbled. His face was getting redder with every passing second, and Blaise was unsure whether that was from the cold snow, or shame.

"Me, too," Draco repeated louder, turning his head to face Blaise and looking straight into his eyes. Blaise swallowed and slowly bent over the other boy.

"You don't say this, because… you… I mean… pity… me?" Blaise babbled, unsure of what to say or how to say it while trying, and failing miserably, to collect his thoughts.

Darco's eyes widened then narrowed. Loosing his grip on the sleeve, Draco pressed his hands against Blaise's chest to push him away. "Do you really think—"

And it couldn't have been more cliché'd, when Blaise stopped any more words from being spoken, by pressing his lips to the blond's ice-cold ones. Blaise was bursting with happiness; he couldn't believe that the other boy actually felt the same way. But suddenly, Pansy interrupted them with a slight cough.

Watching the boys with a look that appeared both amused and annoyed, she crossed her arms in front of her chest and spoke.

"Having fun down there?" Pansy hissed, turning away from them while they broke apart. "I can't believe I was worried about you two," she added.

Blaise looked at Draco, who was gazing wistfully back, before he stood up to embrace the girl from behind.

Blaise turned his face away and slowly rose, brushing the snow off his pants. As he was preparing to leave the two alone, he heard Draco whispering. Glancing at the two friends, Blaise noticed Pansy hiding her face in her hands, shoulders trembling, and trying to move out of the embrace Draco kept her locked in.

"I'm sorry, Pansy. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."


Blaise could still hear Draco's shaky voice and Pansy's soft crying, despite the fact that it was in the past and both Draco and Pansy had left that situation behind them, never broaching the subject again.

For Blaise, it was like a stab into his heart. He had known how Pansy felt about Draco at that time - Draco did, too - but the blond couldn't reciprocate her feelings. Pansy was the one that ended up being hurt the most, although neither of the boys intended to bring her pain.

Laughter and idle chatter brought him back into the present. Blaise slowly stood up from his kneeling position and looked at Hogwarts.

Sighing, he set himself in motion, heading towards the old castle at a slow pace. Immediately, he could feel the tension surrounding the wizarding school. Fights between different houses remained on-going with every mind harboring one thought: Which house was going to win the House Cup?

Hogwarts was a prison for Blaise, and it was only when he left the castle that he felt free.

Entering the long, winding corridor leading to the Great Hall, he sighed once again. Running a hand through his short, black hair, Blaise scrutinized the passing students.

"You slept in his bed again ," Vincent's angry voice rang out, and Blaise turned around to search for the speaker. He found him, Gregory, and Draco in a slightly hidden alcove.

"And you stole his belongings again!" the blond growled, wrestling himself free from Vincent's firm grip. However, in that moment, Gregory stepped forward, stopping Draco from getting away. "Draco, listen, you know we didn't steal them—"

"But you took them away!"

"Yes, because it just isn't normal, anymore!"

"Why not?" Draco burst out, drawing the attention of every student in the vicinity to them. But as soon as the blond Slytherin glared at the onlookers, they continued on their way, whispering amongst themselves.

For a moment, Blaise thought about moving closer to his friends, but decided against it. Instead, he turned around and walked towards the Great Hall.

It's Saturday, he remembered, as he sat down at the Slytherin table and stared indifferently at the food provided. He wasn't even hungry.

A few feet away from him, Pansy sat and absentmindedly poked at her meal.

He liked Pansy; she was like his little sister. Sometimes she seemed more like a big sister or a mother. But whenever he looked at her, he was reminded of her tears she had shed, and then the brilliant smile she put on the following day.


While Draco and Blaise had been unsure of how to interact with her after the incident in the snow, Pansy took the lead. The following day, she just started chatting with them about the latest rumours, before quickly departing to spend some time with her other firends. Both boys guiltily followed her with their eyes, missing how Pansy's smile broke as soon as she had turned away from them and escaped into the comforting circle of her friends.


Blaise knew that Pansy was strong, and he did not need to worry about her. She was the kind of person who would cry out when the pain was becoming unbearable, unlike Draco. Draco would isolate himself, and try to hide his true feelings and pain behind an apathetic mask.

"Stop tormenting your food," Professor Snape suddenly demanded as he walked past Pansy, proceeding to leave the hall, acting as if he had not spoken. The witch smiled sadly, stabbing her lettuce with a fork.

Contrary to popular belief, Professor Snape always helps his Slytherins when they need him, Blaise pondered as he left his seat and followed the dark-haired teacher. Though the Potions Master wasn't the most empathetic person Blaise had ever had the pleasure to meet, Blaise knew that if one ignored the cruel words the Head of House used, and paid attention to the overall meaning of Snape's comments, one would notice that Snape really cared for his students.


One time, Blaise had barged into Snape's private quarters without warning at three o'clock in the morning.

The professor had already been asleep, but going against all speculation, the boy wasn't thrown out. Instead, Blaise was given a cup of hot chocolate once he finished stammering his way through an explanation of what had been troubling him.

Snape had only nodded, and despite having trouble keeping his eyes open, Snape explained to the eleven year old Blaise that the sudden reaction the boy was experiencing in the lower parts of his body wasn't worth much concern.

"You are one of those late bloomers," Snape eventually mumbled. He thrusted a book into the boy's unoccupied hand – the other still held the cup - and pushed Blaise out of the room, slamming the door in his face.

Four years later, Blaise went speeding into Snape's quartes again.

Sitting down on the old, worn-out couch, Blaise waited impatiently for the older man to finish his potion. As soon as Blaise noticed Snape laying his stirring utensil aside, the fifteen-year old started blurting everything out. Like the first visit, Snape gave him a cup of hot chocolate, approached a bookshelf, took one book from it, and handed it to the boy.

Aghast, Blaise stared at the cover. However, after awhile, he took the book with an obedient sigh.

"Maybe if you are lucky, it's only a phase, and it will only be this one boy," the man answered, before throwing Blaise out.


It wasn't a phase, Blaise thought, as a smile crossed his lips. However, it had been only one boy.

Blaise suddenly stopped following the professor and the older man turned around for a moment, one eyebrow raised in question. Shaking his head, he went on his way again.

The young wizard thrust his hands into his pockets and halted in front of a huge window to stare outside.

He was bored, but he didn't know what to do.

Two days ago, when he would start to get bored, Blaise would find Draco and study him. Blaise would watch the blond boy when he was in contemplation and changed his expression according to his thoughts. He watched Draco when he was arguing with his friends, when he would sulk and when he would raise his lower lip every time he knew he was wrong. Blaise would watch Draco's behavior, his actions and reactions. Blaise could have stared at his friend all day long.

Clenching his fist, Blaise leaned against the colored windowpane. He wanted to hold Draco again.

"Stop following me!"

Blaise spun around.

"Draco, we—"

Fate hates me, Blaise decided when he saw his boyfriend being followed by Gregory and Vincent

"Just leave me alone!"

Don't, Blaise thought. He could tell by Draco's voice and demeanor, that the blond didn't really want to be left alone. Don't, he repeated, observing Gregory, who threw a questioning look at Vincent.

His eyes are begging for you to stay.

Both boys just shrugged, each seizing one of the blond's arm and dragging him in the opposite direction.

"I'm sorry Draco, but we can't do that," Gregory apologized, ignoring the fidgeting and pulling. "We know what will happen if we do."

Blaise sighed quietly. He hadn't noticed his body tensing up, but he slowly started to relax again as the other Slytherins left.

Gregory and Vincent were loyalty incarnated, and because Blaise knew that, he was sure that he could trust them. They had never changed.


Back in their first year, both boys had kept Draco between them, always protecting him, whether he wanted their protection or not. The first time Blaise was confronted by those three, he jumped to the side, awestruck. He had realized then that, if he ever became cross with the blond, the other two would make his life at Hogwarts a hell.

Gregory and Vincent were most certainly the reason why no one dared to get near Draco. The only reason Blaise ever mustered up enough courage to talk to the blond, was because his quill slid under Draco's seat.

He was just about to ask Draco to hand him his quill, when he noticed Vincent's nasty glare directed towards him. Blaise was sure that his quill – family heirloom or not – wasn't really : that : important, and without waiting for a reaction, he ran off.

One hour later, Draco Malfoy was standing in front of him, and without a word, Draco shoved the quill into Blaise's hand, turned around, and went back to the other two boys.

"We were running through Hogwarts… because of that?" Vincent asked, throwing one last look at Blaise.

"Draco said that quill was valuable" Gregory answered, while Draco kept them at a distance with both hands.

"You two are suffocating me!" the blond exclaimed.


The memories…, Blaise thought as he roamed the corridors, looking at the portraits on the walls. They are drowning me.

"—throwing a fit."

"Yeah, but what do you expect? Slytherins are nuts," a girl responded. Both were Gryffindor second years, Blaise assumed.

"But Harry and Hermione didn't have to make such a fuss."

Blaise raised an eyebrow as he approached the two students.

"I can't believe Parkinson actually bitch-slapped me!" The first speaker, a blond boy, complained, touching his cheek as he spoke.

"I can't believe Hermione did, too," the girl said compassionately.

"And I only wanted to know from Malfoy what it feels like to kill someone."

Blaise halted in his steps, face turning into an angry grimace. But before he could do anything, the Bloody Baron appeared in front of the two Gryffindors.

"Well, I can show you, how it feels to :be: killed," the ghost snarled, reaching out with his bony hands.

The second years gripped each other's arm and hurriedly ran off. Blaise followed them with his eyes, trying to control his anger.

"Isn't it time to go?" the Bloody Baron asked Blaise again, vanishing through a wall.

The dark-haired boy just looked at the spot the ghost went through, turned around, and went towards the Slytherin common room.

All is well.

As long as Draco had Pansy, Gregory, and Vincent, all is well, Blaise tried to persuade himself. He ignored Potter and Granger who were standing at the entrance to the common room, talking to Pansy, who was deaf to their words of apology over what the second years had said and asked. He went by them, seeking his room, and entered it without thought.

Nobody appeared to be in there, but the curtains of his four-poster bed were closed. Sighing, Blaise approached his bed. Leaning forward he lovingly watched the blond boy once again lying in his bed. Sitting down on the edge of the mattress, Blaise's fingers caressed the silky hair, a sad smile forming on his face.

"It's not your fault," Blaise whispered quietly into Draco's ear. "It's mine. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time." Draco frowned in his sleep and Blaise was sure, that the blond understood every word. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to leave you."

Draco's eyelids gently fluttered, and a silent tear left the corner of his eye and slowly ran down his cheek.

"But I know, as long as you stay together with Pansy and the boys, you can manage without me."

The eyes opened sleepily, and Draco rolled onto his back, touching his cheek with one hand.

"Blaise?" he whispered, pressing the balls of his hands against his eyes, suppressing his tears. "Are you here?"

The dark-haired boy didn't answer. With a sad smile, Blaise knelt down to press a gentle kiss to the other's lips. "I really do love you, Draco."

"It's not fair."

"I will wait for you."

"It just isn't fair."

Blaise slowly sat up and was about to leave the bed, when suddenly one of Draco's hand darted out. It reached for the spot where Blaise's wrist was, but it only captured air. Draco balled his hand into a fist and began repeatedly hitting the same spot on the mattress.

"You think of nothing but yourself, you bastard."

"I know," Blaise mumbled. Standing up, Blaise continued to gaze at the blond boy, unable to turn away from the sight.

Unexpectedly, there was a rattling at the door whereupon Draco rolled over, head resting on his hands, and stared at the curtain of the bed.

"Draco?" Vincent called. "Are you in there, Draco?"

The blond didn't respond.

"Draco, open the door!"

Blaise wanted to embrace his boyfriend, wanted to squeeze him and to never let him go again. Instead he clenched his hands.

"See you soon," he breathed. Blaise turned around, thinking that he heard Draco mutter the same words, and then he left the room—

—fleetingly touching Gregory's and Vincent's shoulder on his way whereon the two boys suddenly stopped moving and looked around in confusion.

—brushing Pansy's forehead with his lips, and she paused mid-sentence, turning her face away to hide the sudden tears running down her cheeks.

It was time to go, and the Bloody Baron would show him the way.


Hope you liked it.