dear draco,

five

The first few weeks back at school fly by. By the time September has passed, it feels just like we never left. Despite this, a notable amount has happened in the month, including an introduction to Dolores Umbridge, Harry getting into a bunch of trouble, and my own failed attempt at throwing a back-to-school party. It had been harmless, our first night back at Hogwarts, but only thirty minutes or so into the fun, who else had rocked up at our common room door but Draco Malfoy? Smiling widely all the time, he had claimed that as prefect, it was his "duty" to ensure other students didn't do "silly things" without permission. I reckoned he just didn't like the idea of people having more fun than him. After that, he had shown up on multiple occasions, just to "check in" – as if Gryffindor didn't have its own share of prefects.

On Monday morning, I trudge tiredly into double Potions. I collapse into my seat, feeling quite downcast about the lack of fun I'm having thanks to Malfoy, as well as the vast amount of work we've already been assigned.

I'm sitting across from two Slytherin girls, Millicent Bullstrode and Daphne Greengrass. As if we aren't in the early hours of a Monday morning, they are focusing eagerly on their potions, both rather pink in the face. I might look the same if I felt any kind of motivation today, but I don't, and instead put all my effort into attempting to remain seated while making my potion.

My eyes flicker to where Draco is sitting. He too is slumped lazily in his chair, taking slow notes as Snape speaks. His forearm disappears into the sleeve of his robes, which are pulled up to free his hands. He pauses, tapping his quill against the desk, and without warning, looks up and meets my eyes. He raises an eyebrow, having caught me staring at him. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of getting a glare, I purse my lips and look away indifferently.

My gaze wanders to Millicent and Daphne, and I realise that they are animatedly whispering. Despite myself, I am curious, and turn my head to listen in.

"It starts at half nine," Daphne is saying. "We reckon most of the first years should have cleared out by then."

Millicent nods. "They always ruin parties."

"Well, they won't ruin this one. We won't let them."

Millicent pauses to read an instruction in her potions book, and I take the opportunity to clear my throat. "Who's throwing this party then?"

Daphne looks down at me. "What's it to you?"

"Just curious. If it's some fourth year, it can't be a great party, can it?"

"It's probably Draco," says Millicent, without looking at me.

"It's always Draco," says Daphne earnestly. She gazes coyly back at him, as if throwing the occasional party is a heroic, admirable trait that will redeem him from all his past actions. His eyes flicker uninterestedly towards her, then back to his book.

I hum, trying to sound casual. "You know he broke up a Gryffindor party the other night?" I raise my voice just a little bit. "Pretty hypocritical, don't you think?"

Draco's eyes remain downcast but the corner of his lip twitches.

Daphne rolls her eyes. "Well, that's the difference between you and us, then. Slytherin parties don't get broken up."

"We'll see," I mumble, flicking the nib of my quill against my nail.

"What's that?" says Daphne loudly. Draco's eyes jump to me, and I know I've got him.

I give Daphne a sickly sweet smile. "I said, I hope you have a great party."

-

That night, I make my way down to the dungeons to oversee my own share of party-spoiling. I'm alone; although I pleaded enthusiastically with Harry, Ron and Hermione to join me, they're busy organising the first official DA meeting. But whatever.

The corridor is dark, but the weighty beat of music is audible through the wall on my right. I stroll closer, dragging my feet against the ground, trying to remind myself that it's silly to be excited about this. I haven't exactly dressed up for the occasion, and my fleece pyjama shorts allow an autumn breeze to drift against my bare legs. It's chilly, but I barely notice. It's dark too; the days are getting shorter and shorter as we progress towards winter. The corridor is so dark that it would be enormously easy to hide here. Anyone could be behind any corner, waiting-,

A strong arm catches me from behind. "Not so fast."

I spin around to face Draco. His triumphant expression falters when he sees my grin. "What's up?"

Draco blinks. "You won't be sabotaging any parties tonight, Young."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say. "I was just taking a midnight walk."

"Let's not play around here, Young. You were coming here to try break up my party as revenge for me breaking up yours. Well, tough luck-"

"Or maybe-" I interrupt- "Maybe, I just wanted to leave you in anxiety the whole night, so you wouldn't have a good time?" A shadow of uncertainty flickers across Draco's face, and I break out into a sweet smile again. "Nah, I'm just joking", I say. "You don't have to worry about me breaking up your party. Actually, Professor Umbridge is supposedly coming down any second." Draco's jaw drops, and my smile widens. "Well, that's what the rumour is, anyway. Someone might just have let slip your plans for tonight. I reckon the music should be turning off sometime soon – oh, there we go!"

The loss of music provokes an immediate silence and I suddenly feel awkward. Draco is staring daggers at me. "How dare you-"

"An eye for an eye, Malfoy," I say calmly. "You hit me, I hit back."

Draco clenches his jaw. "You'd better hope you won't need to regret this, Young."