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The West Tower common room was normally a quiet place. It was huge circular room with the necessary squashy armchairs and desks to work at and a huge fireplace that kept the place warm at night. Elegant stone archways that led up to the private dorms punctured the walls at regular intervals and tall thin windows between the archways let light in no matter what time of day it was.

The tower was the home of the clan of returning Hogwarts 'Eighth years', students whose exams had been disrupted by the war. The older students relished the relative peace the common room offered, forsaking the bustle and noise of the main castle and instead choosing to spend most of their free time in their Tower, sitting haphazardly in the armchairs and chatting, working at the desks or playing chess in front of the fire. It was calm and the twenty five occupants wanted to keep it that way.

There had of course, been uneasiness and even a scuffle or two between the new occupants of the West Tower when they had first moved in but they had died down quickly, the situation driven by a mutual desire for peace. Tentative connections had been made, and truces struck up between former rivals and enemies and now the seven Gryffindors, seven Hufflepuffs, six Ravenclaws and five Slytherins found themselves, well, actually getting along.

However, on the evening of the ninth of September, a full week after classes had restarted, the relative peace of Friday evening was shattered by the arrival of Harry Potter, who stormed into the common room, furious and in a full blown rage.

"Harry!" Hermione Granger looked up from one of the desks where an assortment of books were spread out in front of her, looking concerned. "What's wrong?

"What's wrong? What's fucking wrong?" Harry shouted, slinging his bag onto one of the sofa's with unnecessary force and grabbing his hair in frustration.

Hermione dropped her quill and smartly slid out from behind the desk, hurrying over to Harry who was looking murderous.

"I just managed to break every single window in the damn Charms room and I didn't even get told off! No detention, not a word, nothing!" Harry ranted.

"What-" Hermione began but Harry wasn't stopping.

"You heard me fucking swearing when I burnt my hand in potions on Tuesday and I know Slughorn heard me and he didn't say anything! And I forgot to read that chapter for McGonagall and even she didn't say anything for fucks sake!"

Hermione glanced around, biting her lip. Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini were sat at a desk watching and looking mildly interested in the proceedings. Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, Padma Patil and Hannah Abbott were staring unashamedly from a sofa near theirs, Seamus was studiously staring at his Quidditch magazine but could obviously hear every word and Ernie MacMillan was watching Harry over the top of his Transfiguration book.

"They're meant to be treating me the same as everyone else," Harry said, his hands unconsciously balling into fists. "None of this special treatment hero crap."

Hermione was about to respond, reaching out to take Harry's hand when she heard a snort of laughter behind them. They both whipped around and saw Blaise Zabini cover his mouth with his hand and Draco lean away from him, smirking, having clearly muttered something in the other boys ear.

"Want to share, Malfoy?" Harry snapped across the room, his voice loud and trembling with fury. Fuck the cautious and awkward truce he and Draco had made when they had met over the summer for Harry to return Draco's wand; whilst not enemies anymore they still weren't friends and Harry was at breaking point.

"I was just saying what a terrible burden it must be to have everyone still giving you preferential treatment," he drawled, idly flicking the quill in his fingers back and forth.

Harry strode over the room and slammed his hands down on Draco's desk, either side of the book Draco had been looking at, coming almost nose to nose with the Slytherin. "You of all people should know it's not great being treated differently because of what happened," he said angrily.

"Yes, I know," Draco said, sounding uninterested. "Come on Potter, we're not meant to be fighting anymore. We were doing pretty well at ignoring each other until today-"

"Great. Just great. You too, treating me differently," Harry said bitterly.

"You'd rather I didn't?" Draco asked, a pale eyebrow raised ever so slightly and a glint in his eye.

"Yes," Harry shot, glaring at Draco.

"Fine," Draco shrugged, putting his quill down, his eyes meeting Harry's for a split second before moving quicker than Harry could have anticipated, slapping Harry full across the face with shocking force.

There were shrieks and shouts from all areas of the common room as Harry reeled backwards, staggering and clutching his rapidly reddening face.

"Happy?" Draco asked in a bored voice, picking up his quill once more. "If you want me to go back to being a bastard to you on any other occasions..." he gave an elegant shrug. "I'll more than happily oblige.

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