"Guess what? Harry Potter and Ron Weasley missed the train!"

I looked up sharply as Daphne skipped in regaling this troublesome news. "What? Why? How?"

"Apparently they never made it onto the platform." Daphne gushed, her cheeks glowing red with excitement. "Everyone reckons they've run off together."

"But-" I spluttered, sitting up, "why would he do that? What about Quidditch? What about winning the house cup? Does he not care?"

The compartment fell silent and I realised that everyone was looking at me.

"What?" I said defensively.

Blaise coughed into his fist, hiding a smirk. "Sounds like someone cares to me."

I immediately scowled, throwing myself back in my seat. "Piss off. I couldn't give a toss about Potter. I'll be happy if I never saw him again."

"Whatever," Theo chuckled, his bloodshot eyes creasing at the corners.

Pansy frowned, looking at me. "You wouldn't go there, would you, Dray? Anyway, rumour has it that Weasley's little sister has a huge crush on him."

"Oh yeah, I heard that too," Daphne nodded eagerly. "She's only eleven but you can tell she's going to be stunning. And she's his best friend's little sister so they're practically married already."

"Aw, never mind, Dray," Theo smirked, playfully nudging his foot against my shin. "You can always go for one of the Weasley's - there's plenty to pick from, after all."

"Will you all please just shut up," I sneered. "The only reason I might be displaying some regret is because I am going to miss the chance to thrust my shiny new broomstick in his smug face. It makes his look like a mouldy old twig."

I spent the rest of the journey in a sulk. Crabbe and Goyle kept asking if I needed to be escorted anywhere but I didn't see the point.

*****

"Guess what?" Daphne gushed as she came skipping over to the Slytherin table for breakfast the following morning. "Harry Potter and Ron Weasley crashed a flying car into the Whomping Willow!"

Her cheeks were glowing, clearly pleased that she was once again the one bringing the gossip to the group.

"And they survived?" Pansy asked, wide eyed.

"Clearly," I drawled just as the two Gryffindors themselves entered the Great Hall to a large round of applause.

As I watched them strut over to the cheering Gryffindor table, I pushed my toast aside, having suddenly quite lost my appetite.

"Show offs," I muttered bitterly.

"Man," Blaise said, giving a low whistle, "they're like... immortal."

He soon ate his words when they received a Howler from Ron's mother embarrassing them both to the point that they looked as though they wished the earth would just swallow them whole.

I smirked.

*****

"Welcome to the team, Malfoy."

I peered up from my copy of 'Hairstyles of the 90's', letting the magazine fall to my lap. Marcus Flint swaggered towards me, a shiny black broomstick in his hand.

It looked oddly familiar...

"Um, don't you want me to tryout?" I asked.

"Nah," Marcus shrugged, his eyes glinting brightly down at his broom. "I'm sure you're good enough."

"But- but for which position?"

"Any you want. I'll chuck whoever's in it in reserve."

Well that was odd. My eyes narrowed as I spotted Miles Bletchley and Adrian Pucey enter, each holding the exact same broomstick.

"Hang on a minute," I said slowly. "Those are Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones! How did you all afford one?"

Marcus' smile widened, flashing his crooked teeth. "Let's just say your dad's got good taste."

Thanks a bunch for your vote of confidence, Father.

Despite feeling put out that my father pretty much bought my place on the team, I still couldn't help showing off in front of Harry.

"Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team," I boasted loudly as I stood before the dumbfounded Gryffindors on the pitch.

Ron, who had just turned up with Hermione to defend Harry's honour, gaped, open-mouthed.

"Good, aren't they?" I said smoothly as I smirked towards Harry who was looking positively furious. "But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives, I expect a museum would bid for them."

Behind me, the Slytherin team howled with laughter.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," Hermione said sharply. "They got in on pure talent."

I was hit by a great wave of humiliation. I wanted to slap that bitch hard across the face, especially as it had fuck all to do with her.

But instead of resorting to violence like a savage commoner, I politely told her so instead.

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood."

"How dare you!" Alicia Spinnet shrieked just as Fred and George Weasley lunged.

Acting as a shield, Marcus dived in front of me. However, he couldn't do much about Ron who had pulled from his pocket his wand and aimed it straight at me. "You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!"

A loud bang echoed around the stadium and a jet of green light shot out of the wrong end of Ron's wand, hitting him in the stomach and sending him reeling backwards into the grass.

"Ron! Ron! Are you all right?" Hermione squealed.

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead he gave an almighty belch and several slugs dribbled out of his mouth onto his lap.

That was a pretty terrific moment in my life.

*****

I began to notice that my hair was getting a quite a lot of sniggers.

Perhaps I was overdoing the hair cream? Mother said it made me look smart and intelligent, but I was beginning to think I looked like Professor McGonagall. Maybe the world wasn't quite ready for the librarian look.

I decided to see the tight bun throughout the rest of second year though: see if anything improves. If not, then come summer, I'll try something different.

In the meantime, there was a lot of excitement in the school when someone opened the Chamber of Secrets and Petrified Filch's cat.

I immediately wrote to Father, letting him know. He replied saying that with luck, the Mudbloods would be next.

I helpfully passed this information onto Hermione Granger.

It did not go down well.

*****

"Miss Malfoy, come over here. Let's see what you make of the famous Potter."

Harry's face fell as Snape summoned me over. It was clear he had been hoping to partner with Hermione.

Trying my best to show him I could not care less, I strutted over, giving him my best smirk. I'd show him who was best at duelling.

"Face your partners!" Lockhart called from the platform, "and bow!"

I looked at Harry and Harry looked at me. Neither of us moved.

"Wands at the ready!" Lockhart shouted. "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponent - only to disarm them - we don't want any accidents. One... two-"

I swung my wand over my shoulder and struck Harry hard with a spell so that he stumbled backwards.

I had barely time to smirk when he struck me back. A jet of silver light hit me in the stomach and I doubled over, wheezing. The fucker had cast the Tickling Charm on me and I couldn't move for laughing. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I let go of my stomach long enough to cast the Dancing Feet spell.

As Harry's legs spasmed wildly out of control, it was no longer just the Tickling Charm making me laugh.

"Stop! Stop!" Lockhart screamed.

The Great Hall was in chaos as students used this opportunity to hit each other with the most humiliating spells.

In order to seize control of the situation, Snape ordered Harry and I to go onto the platform and demonstrate in front of the class. I guessed he had something up his sleeve given the wicked glint in his eye. And I wasn't disappointed when he bent down to whisper a spell in my ear.

Harry glanced at us nervously as Lockhart lousily attempted to show him how to block a spell.

"Scared?" I muttered, lifting an eyebrow.

"You wish," Harry said out of the corner of his mouth.

Hatred sparked between us.

"Serpensortia!"

Huh - so that's what that spell does, I mused to myself as a long black snake landed heavily on the floor in front of Harry.

The entire room began screaming and there was a surge for the door as students clamoured to get away.

Then Harry spoke some Parceltongue and the screaming turned into a stunned silence as he grinned stupidly around him.

Ha. Seems he isn't so perfect, after all.

*****

Crabbe and Goyle were acting weird.

"I didn't know you could read," I said when it transpired Goyle wore glasses for reading.

"I uh- like to catch up on my horoscope," he stumbled, his cheeks flushing as he quickly pocketed the glasses away.

Merlin.

"Blimey," Crabbe said, scratching his head as I waited for him to say the password for the common room. "I've clean forgotten it. Probably shouldn't have drunk so many of them Snowballs at dinner."

"But you were on pumpkin juice," I pointed out, narrowing my eyes suspiciously.

Crabbe's face immediately coloured, tugging his collar away from his neck. "I uh- snuck it under the table when no one was looking."

I nodded, impressed.

"Pure blood," I said, leading the way into the common room. "Anyway, I'm beat. Christmas can be such a bore. I think I might just call it a night-"

"Wait!" Goyle said at a rush, reaching out to grab my arm, stopping me from leaving. "Don't you want to, you know... chat?"

I whirled around. Both Goyle and Crabbe were looking hesitant... hopeful.

What the fuck? I glanced down at Goyle's hand still clutching my arm. Oh... I see. Well, this was awkward.

"Look," I began, giving them both sympathetic looks. "I think you're both really sweet, and any girl would be lucky to land one of you smashers. But I'm just too young for that sort of thing and I wouldn't want to ruin our friendship-"

"Wait- no," Goyle said at once, quickly dropping his hand. "We didn't mean that."

"Yeah," Crabbe said with a look of revulsion. "As if."

Fucking charming.

"It's Christmas," Goyle added hurriedly before I could speak, "and it would be a shame to waste a lovely night. Now sit, and tell me all about you. For example, how's your relationship with your parents?"

I raised an eyebrow. Was he being serious?

Yet, I found myself seated on the sofa as Crabbe and Goyle took the two armchairs opposite me, both grinning unnaturally. I was half expecting them to whip out a box of tissues and tell me that we were in a safe space and to let it all out.

"My father's alright, I suppose," I shrugged. "Buys me lots of stuff and whatever. But-" I hesitated and then changed my mind. "No- I... it doesn't matter."

"Go on," Goyle insisted, leaning forward in his chair as he nodded encouragingly. "No judgement here."

I sighed heavily, thinking why the fuck not. "I just wish he'd let me into his life a bit more, you know? Talk to me about his day to day life and give me the attention I so sorely require- wait, where are you going?"

"Uh- stomachache," Crabbe said, already halfway out the common room as Goyle jumped up and hurried behind him, presumably to hold his hand.

"I told you to lay off the Christmas Pudding!" I called after them, shaking my head at their stupidity.

*****

Harry went off on some adventure and offed another teacher.

And yet, Gryffindor still won the House Cup.

*****