The Buddy System. *Updating In Process*

1. Return to Hogwarts

Draco recoiled as if I'd set him on fire.

"You are learning," I said proudly, and with the flourish of a seasoned showman, I pulled out my wand. A quick flick, a whispered charm, and a bright sticker materialized in my hand along with a colourful lollipop.

"For being such a good boy," I cooed, sticking the sticker directly onto the front of his immaculate jumper. It read, in cheerful handwriting, I Am A Good Boy.

Then I set the lollipop gently into his lap.

The silence that followed lasted exactly three seconds.

Draco Malfoy turned a shade of red so vivid it rivaled Gryffindor quidditch robes. His hands twitched at his sides, as if he couldn't decide whether to tear the sticker off, throw the lollipop, or hex me into another century. He looked—genuinely—on the verge of short-circuiting.

And he was trying, trying, not to react.

Which, of course, made it even better.

"Oh, you are a queen!" Blaise declared dramatically as he slid off his seat and onto his knees in front of me as though performing a sacred ritual. He clasped his hands together in mock worship. "Please—teach me your ways!"

I snorted. "Get up, you idiot."

"Why?" Draco muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was developing a migraine. "She's a nuisance."

"That's not what you said the last time we met," I shot back automatically, folding my arms.

His head jerked toward me so fast I thought he'd get whiplash. The colour drained from his face before coming back even darker than before. "Excuse me?"

"Oh don't worry, I'm sure you've forgotten," I said, waving a dismissive hand. "There's enough gel in your hair to drown a Kneazle. It's probably seeped into your skull and turned your brain to mush."

Pansy's mouth dropped open. Blaise choked on a laugh so violent he nearly fell onto Draco's lap. Draco himself looked personally victimised.

I leaned in a little, lowering my voice. "Seriously, Malfoy, do you use a whole bottle every morning? Your hair looks like a slip-and-slide."

That did it.

Blaise toppled sideways onto the seat, wheezing. Pansy pressed her palm over her lips, her shoulders shaking. But what caught my eye was the way she studied Draco—not with amusement, but with something sharper. Observant. Curious. As if she were piecing together a puzzle she hadn't realized existed until now.

Meanwhile, Draco folded his arms so tightly across his chest his knuckles went white. He turned his face sharply toward the compartment door as though the empty corridor outside suddenly offered riveting entertainment.

His jaw moved, lips barely parting.

Under his breath, he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "Stupid little bitch... not worth it..."

I caught it.

Blaise caught it.

Pansy definitely caught it.

I didn't react, though every nerve in my body urged me to. My fists curled in my lap. My pulse hammered in my throat. If I let myself rise to it—if I let myself snap—I'd give him exactly what he wanted.

And I refused.

So I inhaled, long and slow, and reached calmly for Little Women again. I lifted the book in front of my face, pretending the words were suddenly fascinating, though my eyes barely registered the ink on the page.

I needed the act of reading more than the book itself. Something to anchor myself. Something to keep my hands busy so I didn't reach over and smack the arrogant, insufferable prick sitting to my right.

Because Merlin help me—

I wanted to.

The compartment settled into a tense, buzzing quiet. Draco kept his glare fixed firmly on the glass, refusing to look in my direction. His shoulders were rigid, every line of him coiled tight with irritation... or something else he didn't dare show.

Pansy watched him for several seconds, then glanced at me. Her eyes narrowed—not in judgement—more in dawning comprehension. She leaned back slowly, lips curling into the faintest smile, one that suggested she had theories and was already filing them away for later analysis.

Blaise wiped tears from his eyes, finally climbing back onto the seat. "Well," he said breathlessly, "this is shaping up to be the most entertaining start-of-term train ride I've ever had."

I kept my gaze on the page.

But my pulse hadn't slowed.

Not even a little.

And beside me, whether he'd admit it or not, Draco Malfoy was shook—and furious—and maybe a little fascinated.

Though he'd hex himself into oblivion before saying so.