"Guess what?!" Daphne gushed as she joined us at the breakfast table on the morning of the first day of the Christmas Holidays, her face shiny with excitement.

"What?" I grumbled, chewing on the corner of my toast. I had just received news from Mother telling me not to bother coming home for Christmas. Apparently Father was in the middle of something important and didn't want me in the way.

Yeah sure, because what parent doesn't want to spend Christmas with their only child?

So I was to be stuck in this hell hole.

"Potter had a dream!"

"Woo hoo, give him another fucking trophy," I snapped, still sore about our last encounter, "who the fuck does he think he is anyway? Martin Luther King?!"

I was met with blank stares.

"Who's that?" Pansy asked, blinking. "Is he new? I heard they're short of students in Hufflepuff these days."

I just rolled my eyes and tutted.

"Anyway," Daphne rushed out, keen to depart her latest bit of gossip, "it wasn't just any dream, he dreamt that he was murdering the Weasley's dad! Apparently Dumbledore took pity on him and let him start his Christmas holiday early!"

"Wait, so all I have to do to get out of here is to wake up the headmaster in the middle of the night, crying about a bad dream?" I spluttered disbelievingly.

"Yeah," Theo muttered, pouring himself a coffee, "if you're Potter."

Well, this really took the pumpkin pasty! Wait until my father hears about-

Oh.

Glumly, I waved my friends off after breakfast, watching as they hopped up onto the horseless carriages, too busy talking excitedly about their Christmas plans to bother waving back.

And then I turned back to the empty castle, and trudged my way up the steps toward a very lonely Christmas.

*****

It wasn't all bad. Professor Umbridge invited me into her office for Earl Grey tea over the holidays where we swapped 'I hate Harry Potter' stories and ate pink macarons.

She even gave me a present on Christmas morning: a pink fluffy cardigan which matched her own. I smiled politely but silently vowed never to wear it. In return, I gifted her a velvet green hair bow to go with her collection.

I put all my efforts into pleasing her. If I couldn't make Father proud, then maybe she was the next best thing.

She seemed to like me, after all.

When Blaise returned from the holidays, he pretty much stopped talking to me altogether, unimpressed when I told him of Umbridge's plans to sack Trelawney for being a waste of existence.

"The old bag has it coming," I shrugged, "Merlin only knows what Dumbledore was thinking when he hired her. She's about as useful as a chocolate teapot."

"It's her job!" Blaise spluttered. "Her livelihood! You know this is her home, don't you?"

"Please," I scoffed, wondering since when did Blaise give a stuff about the homeless. "It can't be like she's short of gold - it's free board and free food all school year round!"

Blaise, preferring to stick to his boring Prefect duties, stayed well clear of the Inquisitorial Squad. Didn't he realise that the Squad was far more powerful? Luckily, Pansy understood, and was keen to serve alongside me. I was grateful for her unwavering support.

"Right, Squad," Umbridge said one night as we gathered in her office for tea and a team catch up. "Tonight, I want to catch that Potter out. He's been laughing behind my back for far too long now. It seems that my special detentions refuse to break him."

As the Squad all snickered gleefully, I lowered my teacup into my saucer, the satisfying clink of china silencing the room. Everyone turned to me, waiting for me to speak.

"I believe he's holding these little love in meetings on the seventh floor," I declared, "apparently there's a room, a magic room. Potter and his gang have been hiding in there, plotting against the school. They call themselves Dumbledore's Army."

Such a loser.

"How do you know all this?" Warrington asked, raising an eyebrow as he slowly stirred sugar into his teacup.

I allowed my lips to pull into a wide smirk, savouring this moment. "I happen to have my sources."

"Bullshit," Millicent muttered under her breath.

I immediately glared at her. I'll give her bullshit!

"Edgecombe, you can come in now!" I called loudly, making the room's occupants jump.

The door slowly creaked open, and, stepping out timidly from behind it with tears pouring down her ruined face, was a not so clever Ravenclaw.

It had been a piece of cake. I happened to be walking behind Marietta and Cho along the corridor between classes, with Marietta appearing quite distressed about something. Dismissing the boys, I quietly followed the Ravenclaws into the girls bathroom where I overheard Cho telling Marietta to get a grip and that anything was worth doing if they were doing it for Harry Potter.

Horny bitch.

Well, that was enough for me to know which girl would break easily enough. So, making my presence be known, I told Cho that Flitwick was looking for her to let her know she had been nominated for the Griever of the Year Award. She was gone in a flash.

And then I broke Marietta.

Unfortunately, so did the ugly boils on her face.

"Good work, Miss Malfoy," Professor Umbridge congratulated me with a wide, toad-like grin after Marietta tearfully told us all about Harry's Love Club. "I shall make sure to pass on word of your endeavours to your father."

I beamed both inside and out.

On the seventh floor I hid in the shadows and smirked as I watched the raven haired boy heroically let everyone out of the room before himself, clearly the captain not wanting to abandon his sinking ship.

How fucking admirable.

Everyone was running... panicked - clearly having been warned about the Sneak. I waited to make my strike, and oh Merlin was it worth it.

"ARGHH!" He bellowed as he landed flat on his face, unaware of the Trip Jinx I had sent from the shadows.

With another flick of my wand, invisible binds tied around his wrists and ankles, restraining him. I then revealed myself, swishing my cloak behind me as I slowly sauntered towards him, smirking.

"Did it hurt, Potter?" I teased, enjoying every second of the power I had over him. "When you fell?"

He craned his neck to look at me, his face flashing in anger and lip curling up in an ugly sneer.

"Release me this instant, Malfoy!" He hollered, struggling against the binds, "you have no fucking idea what you're doing!"

I gave a short sharp laugh as I came to a standstill by his head, twirling my wand in my hand. "Oh, I know exactly what I'm doing, Potter," I smirked, using the toe of my expensive designer boot to push aside the curtain of hair across his forehead, "and let me tell you, Dumbledore's Favourite, your scar isn't going to save you this time."

"Let me go," he snarled, spit flying from his mouth as his face turned a darker shade of red. "Let me go this instant, you little bitch!"

"Now, now," I smiled sweetly, slowly crouching down so that I could whisper sweet nothings in his ear, "that's no way to talk to your captor. Shouldn't you be saying the magic word?!"

Fury whirled in his green eyes, making them appear dark and endless. I refused to look away, enjoying the reaction I was invoking.

From a distance, I could hear Umbridge's voice, and I knew I did not have much time before she would come and claim him for herself.

"I refuse to beg to you," Harry snarled, hatred sparking every syllable. "I'd sooner die."

Woah! Talk about being unnecessarily dramatic. Still, that was Potter all over.

"I don't want you to beg," I lied, "I want you to join me."

"NEVER!"

"We'd make a good team, you and I," I persisted, "if you'd just drop the blood traitor and the Mudblood, then we could be powerful together."

"I don't want power, I want love. Something you probably know little about."

Well really, with that attitude how will he ever defeat Voldemort?

"You don't think I'm capable of love?" I asked, suddenly intrigued despite the sound of nearing footfalls.

His eyes never left mine, their penetrating glare feeling like a physical force between us.

"Not even your father is able to love you. What does that tell you?"

Instinctively, I pulled back, his words cutting me unexpectedly deep.

"He loves me," I spluttered pathetically, my heart racing uncomfortably in my chest as I tried to convince myself. "He buys me anything I desire."

Harry's laugh was loud and sycophantic, his hot breath hit my face.

"YOU'VE GOT HIM!" Umbridge's jubilant bellow reached us as she turned into the corridor. "WELL DONE, DRAYA, YOU'VE GOT POTTER!"

I remained crouched by Harry, his eyes still mocking me as he beckoned me to move closer. I did so, despite knowing that I wasn't going to like what he was going to say.

"You, Draya Malfoy," he whispered quietly in my ear, "are as unlovable as Voldemort himself."

"STUPEFY!"

Harry froze the second Umbridge's spell hit him. But I could still see the cruel amusement in his eyes as they continued to stare at me.

Getting immediately to my feet, I turned away, not being able to bear looking at the reflection in his eyes any longer.

"Take him," I whispered shakily, "he's all yours."

I should have felt smug when Umbridge awarded me eighty house points for Slytherin and declared Dumbledore's Army finished.

But as I walked away, with Harry's words ringing in my ears, all I felt was nothing but a dark, hollow emptiness.

*****