I don't how he did it, but Harry Potter managed to save Hagrid's violent chicken.

I could barely glance at the Gryffindors' smug faces as they once again won the House Cup. Bile churned in my stomach at the site of the maroon flags draped around the Great Hall during the leaving feast.

The only positive thing of the year's end was saying bye-bye to Lupin and his ridiculous classes.

I mean, what was Dumbledore thinking hiring a werewolf to teach students in the first place? Although, I suppose, at this point, none should be surprised.

Still, one thing I had to look forward to over the summer was the Quidditch World Cup. Father and I were to be in the Minister's box by personal invitation of Cornelius Fudge himself.

I couldn't wait to boast to the golden trio about it, so you can imagine how horrified I was to discover they too were up there, along with pretty much the rest of the entire Weasley clan, filling the box with their ginger hair and cheap rags.

I'm not going to lie, it totally ruined the whole game for me. My eyes burned angrily into the back of Harry's head as he laughed and joked about with Ron and Hermione. I wondered what they were talking about - what was making them giggle and whisper so much?

Even Viktor Krum couldn't cheer me up, and I was something of a huge fan. He was the only pin up I had on my bedroom wall and I'd often lie on my bed and just watch him zoom in and out of the poster on his broomstick for hours.

Yet somehow, I couldn't bring myself to even glance at him as I sat there in the stadium, the feeling in my chest so tight, I wanted to cry.

So, I was somewhat relieved when it was all over and I could go back to our pop up mansion tent to get some sleep.

"Ah- not so fast," Father said, laying a firm hand on my shoulder before I could saunter off to my sleeping quarters. "I need you to go and wait in the woods for a bit."

My mouth fell open. What the fuck? It was nearly midnight and I needed my beauty sleep, yet here he was demanding I go and hang out with a bunch of woodland animals.

"I promised your mother I would keep you out of any trouble, you see," he continued as his eyes shifted from side to side.

"Well, surely I'd be in less trouble if I was asleep in my bed?!"

"Ah- not necessarily. You go on, Draya, and promise me that you'll stay hidden at all times."

"But I-"

"PROMISE ME!"

My shoulders slumped defeatedly. "I promise." I said in a small, resigned voice.

And just like that, he pushed me out into the night to fend for myself.

******

I kicked a tree, feeling angry and confused. Why the fuck had Father sent me into the woods? It was cold and dark, and I hated to admit it, but a little bit scary.

Choking back a tired sob, I leant back against the trunk of the tree I'd just abused and slid down to the cold ground, wrapping my robes tightly around me as I shivered.

I had been sitting there maybe only ten minutes when I heard the first bangs. I looked up sharply, my heart racing. It wasn't until the screams began did I jump up and squint into the night through the trees, witnessing the chaos for myself.

My heart was in my throat as I saw people running towards the woods, fleeing burning tents and crashes of light. Their faces were full of fear as the bangs got louder, and loud jeering roars of laughter and drunken yells were drifting up behind them.

And it was then that I noticed a family of what could only be Muggles being tossed around in the air, including little children. I stood frozen, watching in a mixture of fear and horror. Should I do something?

In the end, my cowardice won out and I stayed by the tree, anxiously holding my breath.

Luckily, I soon had reason to let it go before I could pass out.

Because Ron Weasley, out of nowhere, came stumbling into view, sprawling face down on the ground at my feet.

"Sorry," he mumbled, clearly having not noticed who I was as he clumsily picked himself up and brushed himself down, "tripped over a tree-root."

"Well, with feet that size, hard not to," I said in my best drawling voice as I relaxed my stance against the tree.

Ron looked up sharply, his eyes flashing angrily. "Oh, just fucking do one, Malfoy."

"Language, Weasley," I said, lifting an eyebrow. "Hadn't you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn't want her spotted, would you?"

I nodded at the bushy haired girl who had just appeared behind him, glaring at me.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she snapped defiantly.

"Granger, they're after Muggles," I warned helpfully. But because I was me and I didn't want them to think I was actually doing anything nice, I quickly added, "D'you want to be showing off your knickers in mid-air? Because if you do, hang around... they're moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh."

Just then, a third - and not unexpected - figure stepped out of the shadows, his broad figure towering over me in quite a spectacular fashion. I swallowed, trying to ignore the sudden acceleration of my pulse.

"Hermione's a witch," Harry snarled, pushing a hand back through his tousled raven hair so that it flopped messily back over his glasses.

"Have it your own way, Potter," I said, grinning maliciously. "If you think they can't spot a Mudblood, stay where you are."

"You watch your mouth!" Ron shouted, trying to push Harry aside to get to me.

"Never mind, Ron," Hermione said quickly, seizing Ron's arm to restrain him.

A bang sounded from the other side of the trees, louder than anything I'd yet heard. Several people nearby screamed.

I chuckled softly to disguise my unease. "Scare easily, don't they?" I said lazily. "I suppose your daddy told you all to hide? What's he up to - trying to rescue Muggles?"

"Where's your father?" Harry said, his temper clearly rising as his face grew red. "Out there wearing a mask, is he?"

I pushed my face up into his, still smiling. "Well... if he was, I wouldn't be likely to tell you, would I, Potter?"

There was a moment when everything seemed to completely still as we stared fixedly at one another. The bangs, the screams, the flashes of light - all gone. Even, it seemed, the breeze in the air.

"Oh, come on," Hermione said, ruining the moment as she grabbed Harry's elbow, "let's go and find the others."

Harry floundered slightly, looking almost surprised that she was even there.

"Come on," Hermione repeated, pulling Harry and Ron up the path as she threw me a look of disgust over her shoulder.

"Keep that big bushy head down, Granger," I called after her.

She shouted back a word that made even Ronald Weasley gasp.

The ungrateful bitch.

*****

"Guess what?" Daphne exclaimed giddily as she slid open the door of our compartment, her cheeks flushed. "Daddy says that Hogwarts is going to be hosting a Triwizard Tournament this year and there's going to be a ball!"

I looked up sharply, frowning. Why didn't my father say anything? It seems like something he would be in the know about considering he's supposed to be besties with the Minister himself.

"Well, that would explain why we needed to bring dress robes," Pansy said heavily, looking a lot less enthusiastic than I'd expected her to be over such a thing.

I glanced over at the boys. Crabbe and Goyle just continued to stuff their faces as though they hadn't heard a thing, whereas, curiously, Blaise and Theo were throwing each other looks.

"This Triwizard thing," I asked, trying to sound as casual as I could, "does that mean that there will be two other schools attending?"

Daphne nodded. "Beauxbatons and- um... oh, yes - Durmstrang."

I fell into a thoughtful silence as Daphne and Pansy began to discuss the possibility of sharing our castle with outsiders. Blaise and Theo, I noted, had very little to add to the conversation, with Theo looking edgier than usual.

Feeling restless, I got to my feet and announced my proposal to go and find the trolley early before Harry could buy the whole lot up.

"You know," I drawled loudly to Crabbe and Goyle as we wandered down the train's corridor. "Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts. He knows the headmaster, you see. But Mother didn't like the idea of me going to school so far away."

Sniggers sounded from inside the compartment we were passing. I stilled at the familiar voices drifting out through the gap in the doorway where it was open ajar.

"I wish she had gone, then we wouldn't have had to put up with her." Hermione's spiteful voice rang out.

"Yeah," Ron chuckled. "Just a shame her mother likes her."

Hurt ripped through me, mingled with a flash of red hot anger. I stormed right in there, my face flushing furiously as Hermione and Ron looked up guiltily whereas Harry simply lifted a hand to inspect his fingernails.

"Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy," he said coolly, not looking up.

But I didn't answer because I was distracted by the mouldy pile of rags hanging down next to Ron's head.

"Weasley... what is that?"

He quickly made to stuff the offending item out of sight, but angry at overhearing what they had been saying about me and wanting to extract my own humiliating revenge, I seized the sleeve and pulled.

"Look at this!" I said in ecstasy, holding up Ron's 'robes' to show Crabbe and Goyle. "Weasley, you weren't thinking of wearing these, were you? I mean - they were very fashionable in about 1890..."

"Eat dung, Malfoy!" Ron said, his face pink as he snatched it back out of my grip. Crabbe and Goyle guffawed behind me as I gave a derisive laugh.

"So... going to enter, Weasley?" I taunted. "Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There's money involved as well, you know... you'd be able to afford some decent robes if you won..."

"What are you talking about?" Ron snapped.

"Are you going to enter?" I repeated. "I suppose you will, Potter? Never miss a chance to show off, do you?"

My gaze slid towards the raven haired boy who was now polishing his glasses on his robes as his green eyes defiantly pierced mine.

"Either explain what you're on about or go away, Malfoy," Hermione said testily.

My eyes remained fixed on Harry as I answered. "Never mind," I said slowly... smirking. "I guess you'll all find out in good time."

I blew a small kiss before turning on my heel, feeling the heat of his gaze burn into my back as I swept away.

******