It's just a friendship, I swear.

First years and bastard blondes

How I wished I was a first year again, getting onto the train with excitement and fire in my belly, feeling nothing but content and joy. Walking into the world of wizardry with nothing to fear but what my teachers would be like and how well I would do in my subjects that first year. Yeah, that's bullshit, first year is always rubbish, no matter how big the hype is for it. I was in my second to last year at Hogwarts, I guessed that why I would like to be in first year again, I'm not going to get this chance again...

I had just ran through the wall to get to platform 9 and 3/4, I stumbled slightly on the step onto the train, having been too busy watching the first years say goodbye to their parents and buzz with excitement, I heard a few snide laughs from behind. Of course they would laugh, they were first years, and I didn't expect any different really. They would laugh at everything and have a good time. It was really my own fault for being such a clumsy girl, if not a little unstable on my feet for most of the time.

And here I am another year at Hogwarts, a year of quiet rebellion and constant worry. Last year had been bad enough, Harry nearly died at the hands of Voldemort yet again, and there was no escaping it, and he was coming. Nobody could stop him, Harry and his little trio of friends would try though, of course (the brain - Hermione Granger, the moral support - Ron Weasley, and finally the leader - Harry Potter). Not to mention Cedric Diggery's death, oh that was the worst thing about last year. It was just after Harry came back with the port key, god it was sickening. The thick stench of blood still makes me want to throw up now.

I remember seeing his cold dead eyes staring up, Harry was clinging to him like some poor demented soul, crying out to keep him close. I almost felt sorry for him.

Almost. I never really had a 'thing' for Harry Potter, he was a mere associate more than anything else. I didn't particularly want to see him and I think the feeling was mutual. He was in Gryffindor, I was in Slytherin, what more is there that I could say, we shared a few words but never anything much. I'm not saying I don't have sympathy for Harry Potter, but he just dumps himself into all of it. So it really isn't any of my fault.

I continued my journey towards the end of the train, towards my compartment at 'our' end of the train, and by 'our' I mean the Slytherin's, but I never really got on with any of them either, especially not Draco Malfoy... If I could keep as far away from him as possible that would be great, but I had the overwhelming sensation that this year would be the same as last. In all his classes, sitting beside him, getting called pitiful names that he would come up with, (probably a lack of things to do in his spare time).

I couldn't stand that bleach haired boy, his cream skin making him look like he hadn't been out in the sun in years. His piercing blue eyes, that never seemed to miss that I was shifting nervously under the gaze of them. He was tall, taller than me, at least by 3 inches. His lean muscular chest was hard to miss though, and I was always catching myself eyeing him over the table, and biting my lower lip, turning away and blushing furiously if he ever caught me looking.

I walked into something hard, blocking the path to my compartment, looking up to see those cold blue eyes glaring down at me, speaking of the devil. He was looking at me as if I had done a crime and gotten away with it too. I tried to glare back, thinking I just about managed a scowl at him.

"What do you want, Malfoy" I hissed, trying to push past the solid figure in front of me, but after a few seconds of him moving in my path I sighed deeply and met his eyes again, it was like locking in combat.

"Nothing, Matthews" he drawled back, going to continue his sentence "you're the one who got in my way." He spoke clearly, as if I was some kind of infant who was incapable of understanding. My god I almost snorted, if anybody was an infant it was him. Oh baby Draco must talk to his daddy.