I kind of dug our house quarters.

Green was definitely my colour and the dungeons were certainly chill.

Shame the same couldn't be said for my dorm mates, however.

If I had thought Draco Malfoy needed reigning in, it was nothing compared to Pansy Parkinson's personality.

The girl never stopped talking. Her voice was shrill and sometimes it actually sounded as though someone was scraping their nails down a chalkboard.

And to top it off, she seemed to have some sort of obsession with me, skipping around and acting like we were besties all because she passed me the gravy on that first night.

I found myself getting up early in the morning just to avoid her. She was so keen to please that I was actually beginning to get embarrassed for the girl.

Classes were cool; my favourite being Potions. This was mainly due to the Potions Master though, who seemed to treat us Slytherins favourably, unlike the Gryffindors whom he actively loathed.

Draco was beside himself with glee when, during our first lesson, Snape called out Potter on being a fame whore.

At one point, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle were actually rolling on the floor in tears of laughter after Neville Longbottom accidentally threw a potion over himself causing him to break out in boils.

"Did you see the fat lump's face?" Draco cried, tears still rolling down his cheeks as he regaled the story to me later that night in the common room. "He looked just like his toad!"

"Yeah, Drac, I know," I muttered, lazily turning a page of my magazine, "I was there, remember?"

"Oooo, it was funny though," Pansy agreed eagerly as she skipped over to uninvitingly squeeze herself down onto the sofa between us.

"And perhaps that stupid Mudblood will finally stop putting her hand up in the air," Draco scoffed, the bitterness in his voice evident, "Who the hell does she think she is anyway? Thinking she knows more about magic than the rest of us. Wait until my father-"

"Look, Drac," I sighed wearily, tossing my magazine to the side, "as much as I'm sure your father will appreciate the essay, I've heard it enough times already. So if you'll excuse me, I'm off to get my beauty sleep."

Draco blinked up at me. "But it's only eight o'clock. I thought we were going to work on that Transfiguation homework together?"

"Oh, I'll work on it with you, Draco!" Pansy trilled, excitedly picking up her bag and instantly beginning to pull out her books. "You can help me with the Potions one too while we're at it!"

"Fine," Draco grumbled up at me, looking less than pleased at being bailed on, "but don't think you can copy off me in the morning."

*****

I copied off him in the morning.

He didn't really seem to mind due to the excitement of having our first flying lesson coming up that very day.

"Did I tell you about the time I flew so high that I almost crashed my broomstick into a Muggle helicopter?" he bragged whilst covering his scrambled egg in brown sauce.

"Uh huh," I muttered, not really listening as I turned his Transfiguration essay over to copy the other side.

"Another centimetre closer and I could have lost my head," Draco continued gravely, leaning across to pour me some pumpkin juice.

"Pity you didn't, Malfoy!" A snarling voice spat from above us. "It would have made a vast improvement on your looks."

My head shot up, glaring at the red haired Gryffindor who had happened to been passing by the table.

"Keep on pissing walking will you, Weasley," I spat back, jabbing my quill up at Ron's alarmed face, "unless you want me to stab this right in your eye?"

He didn't reply, but instead made some sort of grunting noise before moving on under my deathly glare.

Satisfied, I turned back to my homework.

I paused when I realised Draco was staring at me.

I looked up to see a strange expression upon his face; almost dumbstruck.

"What?" I asked.

"I- I dunno," he shrugged, scratching the back of his neck, "I've just never seen you act like that before."

I simply shrugged, returning my attention back down to my homework. "I won't stand by and let people diss my friend like that."

"Oh."

There was something in the way he said 'oh' that made me glance back up at him. A pink tinge had appeared on his pale cheeks and a small bashful smile was twitching at his lips.

It was the first time I had referred to him as my friend.

*****

"Maybe if the fat lump had given this a squeeze, he'd have remembered to fall on his fat arse!"

Draco snatched up the Remembrall from the ground, looking around gleefully for a reaction.

Predictably, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle didn't disappoint him and clutched their sides in hysterical laughter. I, however, just shook my head derisively.

It was no surprise when Potter jumped to Longbottom's defence and even less of a surprise when Draco began to goad him.

He was about to make a prat of himself but I could tell he was too far gone to listen to any reason. So, trying not to cringe on his behalf, I just watched it happen.

"THEY MADE HIM A FUCKING SEEKER?!"

"Chill, Drac," I said later as he came storming into the common room, throwing his school bag down angrily onto the floor by the sofa where I was lounging with a magazine.

He moodily slumped down next to me, crossing his arms huffily in front of his chest.

"Bloody Potter gets everything without even trying," he seethed, his nostrils flaring angrily as he looked determinedly straight ahead.

"Didn't his parents both get murdered trying to save his life when he was just a baby?" I quite reasonably pointed out, raising an eyebrow over the top of my magazine.

"So?" Draco bristled, clearly not in an empathic mood. "It's not like he ever knew them or anything."

It was evident he realised what he said the moment the words left his lips. His face instantly coloured as he turned to look at me. "Shit- sorry... I didn't mean-"

"It's okay," I shrugged, just relieved to discover that he wasn't completely devoid of humanity. "I need another parent like I need a hole in the head."

"Yeah, but still..." he mumbled quietly, clearly regretting his choice of words, "that Potter just really pisses me off."

"You don't say," I said, a small smile twitching at my lips as our eyes met.

He instantly grinned back and we suddenly found ourselves quite helplessly laughing.

It said a lot about our friendship when I didn't judge him for his continued bemoaning about the Boy Who Lived.

He ranted and I listened.

We made a good team.

*****

It was the final straw for Draco at the end of the year when Gryffindor won the house cup for murdering a teacher.

"I HATE POTTER!" he wailed, throwing his hat dramatically down on the table as the entire hall bar us Slytherins erupted into deafening cheers.

"I know, Drac," I said sympathetically, giving his shoulder a comforting pat, "but there's always next year."

"Yeah," Draco said, his face suddenly lighting up as his silver eyes gleamed into mine, "you know what, I have a good feeling about second year. I'll show Potter what it really means to take on a Malfoy."

But as I glanced over to the Gryffindor table where Harry Potter was now dancing wildly upon it without a care in the world, I didn't have the heart to tell Draco that he was probably wasting his time.

Oh well.

*****