"Remember, one guest only," Slughorn beamed as he held up a single pudgy finger, "to be pre-approved by yours truly, of course."

The room immediately filled with murmurs as everyone began to discuss suitable candidates for this much anticipated Christmas party.

"Oh dear," Hermione said, offering me a pitying look as she glanced up from her chocolate gateaux, "I guess that counts Malfoy out then."

I smiled faintly; not bothering to explain that it would be a waste of my time even asking him.

A familiar uneasy feeling twisted in my stomach. Since the Katie Bell incident, I'd been watching Draco more closely, and there definitely was a noticeable deterioration to his whole demeanour.

The exhaustion in his face and the thinning of his frame was quite frankly frightening me. I was desperate to approach him about it and offer him my support, but then I'd remember Narcissa's warning about leaving him be for his own safety.

I briefly considered writing to her, to tell her of my concerns; but then I quickly dismissed the idea through fear of somehow endangering Draco's life further.

"Well, I suppose Ron will expect an invite," Hermione continued, bringing me out of my thoughts, "not that he deserves it; always so scathing about the fact Harry and I are in the Slug Club."

"Oh come on, Herms," I said, rolling my eyes, "the dude is clearly just jealous; just put him out of his misery and invite the poor sod."

I couldn't believe how delusional she was to the fact that not only was Ronald Weasley utterly besotted with her; she was completely in love with him too.

The image of Draco flashed in my mind again, and I felt a horrific, unexpected pain in my chest.

Fuck, I missed him. And no, I didn't just miss the sex, but I missed simply being in his company; I missed my best friend.

And I made my decision; if I couldn't take Draco to the party, then I wouldn't take anyone.

I was my own person after all, and going alone meant I could yeet the fuck out of there the second I got bored without explaining myself to anyone.

A notion that seemed to be quite lost on Hermione who, in the light of Ron's new 'relationship' with Lavender Brown, agreed to go with Cormac McLaggen instead.

"I was desperate!" She explained when I discovered her hiding fretfully behind some drapes.

"You don't say," I sighed, shaking my head as I slipped her a Butterbeer.

"You look stunning, by the way," Hermione said as her eyes swept impressively over my gold sparkly dress which showed off my legs perfectly.

"Cheers," I shrugged, already knowing I did. "You scrub up pretty well yourself. Not that it matters seeing as you are choosing to spend the entire party hidden out of sight."

"Oh, but he's so disgusting," Hermione shuddered, peering out fearfully for any sign of him. "He keeps trying to grab my bottom and stick his tongue in my ear."

"I could kick his arse for you, if you want?" I offered. "See how he likes to be manhandled against his wishes?"

"No, I don't want any trouble; I'm happy to just stay here until he gets bored of looking for me."

"Suit yourself," I muttered, turning to leave. "But if you don't mind I'm going to go and mingle. I didn't spend five hundred Galleons on this dress just to hide behind some gaudy looking curtain."

I strutted out, heading straight for the buffet table; my gold heels making a satisfying clicking sound as I navigated my way through the crowds.

"Would the lady care for a glass of champagne?"

I wheeled round to come face to face with Neville Longbottom holding up a tray of drinks and dressed up in an awful buttoned up white uniform that wouldn't have looked out of place on a ship captain.

"Neville?" I blinked, "why on earth are you acting like some kind of house-elf?"

"I didn't make the Slug Club so I wasn't allowed to come as a guest," he blushed, "but it's okay, this is the next best thing and Slughorn said if I do a good job then I could help myself to anything left over at the end of the night."

I felt a flicker of anger on Neville's behalf. I didn't know this boy very well, in fact, thinking about it, I hadn't really spoken to him before. He was always someone Draco had enjoyed taunting throughout the years and so I'd often find myself zoning out or walking away whenever there was some sort of confrontation.

And, as I looked at him now, standing with a tray in his hand, eager to please those around him just for a bit of acceptance; I was engulfed by a great wave of injustice.

"W-what are you doing?" Neville stammered as I snatched the tray out of his hand. "I'm supposed to serve those."

"Not anymore," I said plonking the tray down onto the nearest table, slopping champagne everywhere. "Tonight, Neville, you are my date."

I took his hand defiantly in mine and led him over to the dance floor where people were already enjoying the music and letting themselves go to the beat.

"Can you dance?" I asked, looking up at Neville's stunned face.

"J-just ballroom," he said shyly, rubbing the back of his neck as his face flushed bright red. "I'm not really good at this sort of stuff though."

"We can work with that," I shrugged, grabbing his hands and guiding them to my hips, "just take my lead to begin with."

Despite his initial nervousness, he took to it surprisingly well; his body moving almost fluidly as he matched my movements.

It was soon apparent that this boy was a natural, and others around us were soon stepping back as we killed it on the dance floor.

"Stuff this stupid outfit," Neville panted, pausing mid hip thrust to throw off his white gloves and jacket before ripping open the top buttons of his shirt.

"Wow, Nev," I laughed, knocking my hip side on against his, "you show them what you're made of."

Grinning down at me broadly, he grabbed my hand and twirled me round in a dramatic fashion. It was clear he was enjoying himself immensely; and so, I realised, was I.

I was having so much fun, in fact, that I was unaware of two pairs of cold grey eyes glaring at us from different sides of the party.

The first pair belonged to a recently graduated Hufflepuff who had been sat broodily nursing a Firewhisky in the shadows; his once beautiful face slowly being destroyed by bitterness and resentment.

He watched as Neville and I danced freely and without a care in the world; a dangerous hatred starting to burn in the pit of his stomach.

And the second pair of grey eyes belonged to a gatecrasher, who, unnoticed by Neville or myself, had been unceremoniously dragged in by Filch.

If I had looked up, I would have seen the way his face crumpled at the agony of seeing me with another boy. I would have noticed the desolation in his eyes at the realisation that he was truly losing me.

But I knew of neither of their presence. I knew only of the Gryffindor in front of me whose hips were most definitely made for dancing.

We'd managed to make it through six or seven tunes when Slughorn realised he was missing a waiter.

"Quick, let's get out of here," I said upon noticing Slughorn bumbling angrily towards us.

I grabbed Neville's hand as he whipped up his jacket, hurriedly pulling him through the throng of bodies and straight for the exit.

We were both laughing hysterically by the time we reached the Astronomy Tower.

"I come up here sometimes," Neville said, leading the way up the steps. "It's a great place to just think when you need some alone time."

"What sort of things do you think about?" I asked, shivering as we stepped up to the ramparts and looked down across the grounds.

"All sorts, really," Neville said, shrugging off his jacket to wrap around me. "My parents some of the time. Mainly I just think about what's for dinner, though."

"Deep," I grinned, nudging my elbow playfully in his arm.

He grinned back at me before looking wistfully back out across the grounds.

"Thank you, by the way, for tonight." He said. "That was fun."

"Anytime," I shrugged, "just promise me you'll tell bloody Slughorn to serve his own drinks next time."

"Malfoy doesn't deserve a friend like you," Neville said suddenly, his eyes staring back down at me intently.

I looked away, trying to swallow down the lump that appeared in my throat. "He's not," my voice went quiet, "not anymore."

Tears stung in the back of my eyes and I had the sudden urge to break down crying. But I held it back. I held it back because I was afraid if I started, I'd never stop.

"Ah..." Neville said; understanding hitting him. "It was more, and now it's over?"

I nodded, wrapping the jacket tightly around my body, willing myself not to break.

"I can see the attraction, mind," Neville went on, "I mean, I wouldn't kick him out of bed."

I blinked, not sure if I heard right. "Didn't he used to bully you something rotten?"

"Well," he shrugged, "it's always the way isn't it? Somehow the toxicity of it all makes it more appealing."

"Damn," I said, releasing a long low whistle. "Glad to know it's not just me then."

"Nah, girl," Neville chortled, wrapping his arm around me. "It really isn't just you."

And, as Neville and I chatted late into the night, it seemed that perhaps I'd found myself a new kindred spirit.

******