Draco looked down at his plate, morosely pushing his food across it with his fork.

He tried desperately to shut his hearing down as the man he was supposed to kill talked about the future of their lives.

He couldn't bring himself to listen; couldn't even bring himself to look.

But then he found himself glancing up towards the other end of the table, and immediately regretted it when his eyes met the beautiful dark slanted ones of the girl he missed more than anything.

Blaire. His best friend who he had just treated so horrifically.

But he had to; it was the only way to protect her.

After they had marked him, his mother had come up to his room to offer him words of advice.

"If you care about her as much I think you do," she had said gently, yet firmly as he sobbed in her arms when she admitted she'd sent his best friend away, "then you will stop at nothing to keep her as far away from all of this as possible. I couldn't protect you, despite how hard I tried, but we can still keep Blaire safe."

He'd nodded, even though right then he needed Blaire more than anything. Because he knew she of all people would understand; understand just how fucking frightened he was.

But it would be selfish to drag her into it; he was on a fucking murder mission for Merlin's sake.

So he did what his mother had asked him to do and he pushed Blaire away.

It killed him though; seeing the hurt in her eyes. He read them, felt her pain, wanted desperately to hold her in his arms and tell her he didn't hate her but in fact wanted to give her the world.

Trying to ignore the aching in his chest, he tore his eyes away from her, and tried to focus on the horrific task ahead that he must face alone.

*****

I decided to go along to these little parties of Slughorn's despite my dislike of him.

I mean, he served up pretty decent grub.

And it took my mind off Draco, if only for a couple of hours. Draco who was being distant with everyone bar Crabbe and Goyle.

I gave up trying to talk to him, completely fed up with his sharp tongue and disdainful looks.

Pansy was surprisingly sympathetic, even gently patting the back of my hand when in Transfiguration class Draco point blank refused my suggestion of working together in favour of partnering up with Crabbe instead.

"Let him sulk," she had said. "You don't need him; I'll be your partner, and we'll make a lot better work than he could ever achieve with that giant baboon he insists on hanging around with."

I knew she was right, that I had to let him go. I just wished it wouldn't hurt so much.

And so that was how I found myself spending most evenings in the company of the Slug Club.

It was just a small, elite club, consisting only of the ones from the train that Slughorn had deemed 'acceptable'; including two thirds of the Golden Trio.

Surprisingly, I started to warm to Hermione Granger. It was the first time I'd properly socialised with her; I'd always assumed she was rather a bossy little know-it-all, but actually it was rather refreshing conversing with someone of high intellect.

She was understandably wary of me at first, I was, after all, known as the best friend of the boy who called her a Mudblood. But when she saw that I didn't share his same prejudices, she started smiling at me more and even told me stories of her Muggle childhood which I found fascinating.

"You're nothing like Malfoy, you know," she remarked after I raptly listened to her describe about the inedible school dinners that were served up in her Muggle primary school. ("Lumpy custard! It was totally barbaric!")

"Why should I be?" I laughed as I licked my bowl of chocolate and strawberry ice-cream clean, "would you say you're like Ronald Weasley?"

She wrinkled her nose as if the idea of being compared to one of her best friends was the most insulting thing in the world.

"Point taken," she sighed. "Anyway, you're nice for a Slytherin."

"Ahem!" Slughorn coughed loudly. "May I remind you Miss Granger, which house your most generous and most humble host is from?"

I snickered into my bowl as Hermione, complete with scarlet red face, apologised profusely.

Harry Potter was the other third of the Golden Trio who was a member of the Slug Club, except he rarely attended the dinner parties, much to Slughorn's evident chagrin.

Personally I couldn't have been more relieved. Harry never bothered to hide the fact that he didn't like me, constantly eyeing me with suspicion and not once returning my smile.

"He's just very fixated upon Malfoy at the moment," Hermione explained when I voiced this to her. "He's convinced he's up to no good to the point where it's a borderline obsession."

"Oh, wow," I snorted, "believe me, Drac would just be flattered by this. His obsession runs right back from day one."

I didn't mention that Draco and I weren't even friends anymore. Some things were just too painful to say out loud.

Because I missed him, I missed him so much.

Sometimes, when I would walk into the common room and find him sitting alone, ignoring everyone around him, I'd just stand for a moment and watch him. And I'd notice just how tired he looked; the weariness of his sunken eyes and the greying tinge to his pale sallow cheeks.

I wanted to go over to him, to wrap my arms around his thin looking frame and press my lips against his exhausted face.

But then, as if sensing my eyes upon him, he would look up and scowl; get immediately to his feet and storm away.

I was starting to wonder if I'd just imagined those three weeks in the treehouse.

******

When the news of Katie Bell being cursed hit, the school was a buzz with excitement.

"Fancy her being a target," Pansy gasped, wide eyed as we tucked into our dinner that very evening. "I mean, she isn't even a Mudblood."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Draco, whose fork was halfway to his mouth, freeze.

"Muggle-born, Pansy," I gritted through my teeth.

"Oh, I forgot you were a Muggle lover these days," Pansy sneered; she hadn't exactly been overly thrilled to discover I'd been getting on with Hermione, claiming it wasn't very Slytherin of me.

"No, I am a people lover," I said coolly, "which means I treat everyone the same regardless of who they are and where they're from. You should try it sometime."

"Whatever," Pansy shrugged, pulling a face as she helped herself to more gravy. "But what I'm saying is, surely this means we're all at risk now. Whoever cursed Katie Bell is still out there and if we don't catch them soon then we could all be waking up dead in our beds come sunrise."

"A tad dramatic, Pans," I sighed, not bothering to point out what was wrong with her statement. "Besides, just because Bell was cursed doesn't mean she was the intended target."

"What do you mean?" Pansy asked, looking at me in a kind of awestruck horror.

"Well, you know," I said, chewing thoughtfully on a runner bean, "rumour had it she was asked to deliver that package to someone but then got curious on the way."

"But who?" Pansy queried, her voice trembling slightly. "Who would do that?"

"Search me," I shrugged, "But whoever it is, I wouldn't want to be in their shoes right now."

There was a loud scraping sound as a chair was hurriedly pushed back across the floor, and when I glanced up, Draco was already gone; his barely touched dinner abandoned.

I frowned. And slowly, something started to tick in my brain.

******