Ron is livid with me.
"So you just once again abandon me for that git?!"
"Ron, it wasn't like that," I insist for the one hundredth time. "I was trying to escape from Lockhart, and Draco just happened to be there. He is my friend as well, you know."
"Funny that, because I didn't see him coming to rescue you in the middle of the night. Did he even care that he hadn't heard from you all summer?"
Oh, he cared alright.
"He's not like you," I retort, "he's proud."
"AND WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!"
I close my eyes. This argument is getting us nowhere.
We are at the Burrow, waiting for Ron's dad to load the car up with our things. I'm anxious to get moving as the time is ticking and I don't want to miss the train.
I politely thank Molly for allowing me to stay the night instead of having me shipped back to the Durselys. It was alright actually, I bunked in with Ginny who spent the entire night talking excitedly about Hogwarts - today is her first day.
"It's fine," Molly mutters, sounding anything but fine, "I've already got so many bloody mouths to feed, so what's one more?"
She acts like she isn't going to have an empty house for most of the year.
As we sit in the car, journeying to Kings Cross, I think about my cousin and wonder how he's doing. I remind myself to send him an owl as soon as he starts back at Smeltings - I don't want to risk sending Hedwig back to Privet Drive in case my uncle shoots her.
"Damn traffic," Arthur mutters as we remain gridlocked on the motorway. "We are going to be bloody pushed for time at this rate."
"Just fly the car, Dad," Fred or George says whilst Ginny begins to sob.
"And give Lucius Malfoy a reason to campaign for my sacking?! I think not!"
"But you can't let Ginny miss her first time on the Hogwarts Express!" The other Fred or George splutters. "It's like a rite of passage!"
Ginny starts to wail louder as the Weasley men begin to bicker. I want to shoot myself.
Eventually, we make it to Kings Cross, with only minutes to spare. Chaos ensues as we race towards the wall to platform nine and three-quarters, pushing and shoving Muggles out of the way with our bulky luggage.
Ron and I are the last to go through the wall. Except we don't, because all of a sudden, it really is a wall.
Fuck.
*****
But it's all cool because we fly the car. With Ron driving.
RIP Ford Anglia.
*****
I have never been so glad to have been Sorted into Slytherin when, the next morning, Ron receives a Howler from Molly.
Being on another table means I can pretend like it has nothing to do with me.
"...YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT HAD GONE..."
"Poor Ron," I snicker as I gaily make a bacon butty, making sure to squirt in plenty of ketchup.
Draco watches me in disgust as I lift it to my mouth and take a huge bite. Ketchup squirts out and drips down my arm. But it tastes so good that I don't care.
"...I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS..."
"You're gross," chuckles Blaise, who is carefully eating a grapefruit with a spoon.
"I was starved all my life," I say, spraying bits of bacon everywhere, "so forgive me for finally living."
"... ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED, YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT..."
I glance over to the Gryffindor table where Ron has sunk so low in his chair that all I can see is the top of his red hair. The envelope which has been screaming at him bursts into flames and curls into ashes.
"Tea?" Pansy offers, pouring me a fresh cup anyway.
"I thought you weren't going to come when I couldn't find you on the train," Draco says sulkily. "I thought maybe they'd locked you up again."
"Nah, I stayed on at Ron's."
Draco's face takes on a thunderous expression, but all he mutters is, "Hip hip hooray for the Weasleys."
I ignore him, instead checking my timetable to see what lessons we have coming up.
"Oh no, not that twat." I sigh, seeing Lockhart's name next to our first lesson: Defence Against the Dark Arts. "And a double period, too!"
"Still, at least it's not with the Gryffindors," Draco says cheerfully.
We all drag our feet, none of us really wanting to face hell.
It turns out, Professor Lockhart is even more of a narcissistic moron than I realised, using the entire lesson to teach us all about his favourite things.
"I didn't even know lilac was a colour!" Goyle splutters when Lockhart scolds him for getting his favourite colour wrong during the class quiz.
Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones get equal top marks, and, as a reward, Lockhart offers them a nightcap in his office after dinner ("Make sure you keep the uniforms on.").
The week drags on, with Snape making Potions continually unbearable too. At least he seems to favour Draco, and with us being partners in everything, it means I don't ever end up failing. I just don't get acknowledged instead.
With the weekend finally upon us, I am relieved that this first week is over. Draco, especially seems excited about it.
"What are you doing after breakfast this morning?" He asks me as soon as I step out into the common room from the girls dormitory.
"Well it's the weekend so going back to bed," I mutter through a yawn.
"Or, you can come down to the Quidditch pitch?"
"Why the hell would I want to do that? It's freezing out there!"
"Because when you shook my hand, you were agreeing to be my friend, no matter what. And as my friend, I am asking you to come down to the Quidditch pitch after breakfast."
I narrow my eyes. "I wasn't aware it was binding."
Draco just looks at me until I eventually cave.
"Fine," I grumble crossing my arms over my chest. Ever since I'd started at Hogwarts I'd stopped becoming a morning person. Must be the luxury bedding that I'd been deprived of in the past.
When I reach the empty Quidditch pitch later that morning, I spy Ron and Hermione sitting in the stands, so I go and join them.
"What are you here for?" I ask, gratefully accepting a bite of Ron's toast even though I'd just eaten a full English breakfast.
"Dunno," Ron shrugs. "Fred and George told us to come down. Apparently there's a surprise."
"Huh, that's odd, that's exactly what Draco said too."
Ron immediately scowls. "If bloody Malfoy is behind it then it can't be anything good."
"Look Ron," Hermione suddenly gasps, jumping up from her seat. "They're coming out!"
I turn to where she is pointing, and sure enough, the Gryffindor team are striding out onto the pitch, clad in maroon and gold robes as they each clasp a broomstick in hand.
"Look, there's Fred, George, Oliver, Angelina, Katie, Ginny- wait- Ginny? Ron stops, eyes bulging. "WHAT THE HELL IS MY LITTLE SISTER DOING ON THE TEAM?!"
"Oh, she must be their new Seeker," Hermione says. "Imagine! A first year too! She must be very good for them to allow her on."
Well, this is all very fine and dandy, but surely this isn't the surprise Draco was talking about?
"Uh oh..." Hermione then says.
Ah. The Slytherin team enter the pitch, each one of them big and burly and towering over the Gryffindors.
And even before Draco steps out from behind Marcus Flint, I know he's going to be there. I mean, I should have seen that one coming.
All three of us hurry down to the pitch, keen to get involved in whatever trouble is occuring between the two warring houses.
"Oi!" Ron bellows, reaching them first. "You better not be picking on my sister, Malfoy!"
Draco just smirks. "On the contrary, Weasley. Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team. I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, you see."
"You?!" Ron gapes, open-mouthed.
"Your little sister?" Draco mimics. The Slytherin team snickers.
"At least Ginny didn't have to buy her way in." Hermione unhelpfully goads. "She got in on pure talent."
Predictably, this does not go down well with Draco who glares venomously in her direction.
"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood!"
Every single Gryffindor, bar Hermione, goes ballistic. My ears are assaulted with screams and shouts, and someone is even wailing. Fred and George go to lunge at Draco, but his team mates stand in front of him to protect him.
Hermione and I just stand and silently observe. We don't see Ron remove his wand, we only hear the loud bang it makes when it backfires.
As we watch him puke up slugs, we both shake our heads in disdain.
What. An. Idiot.
******
"I can't believe you ditched me for Weasley - he tried to hex me!"
Here we go again. I am so bloody sick of being stuck in the middle of this.
"Draco," I try to say as calmly as I don't feel, "you called his best friend a slur - of course he was angry. I would have done exactly the same if I was in his position!"
"But you didn't have to go off with him, you never even stayed to congratulate me!"
"On what? On being a prejudiced pig? Don't look at me like that! If Ron had successfully hexed you then the only person I would be congratulating is him!"
"Why the fuck are you in Slytherin when you are such a Gryffindor lover?! When you shook my hand I thought that meant you were one of us!"
"Oh, so your friendship comes with conditions now?" I spit. "If only I'd known that at the time then I would have never shaken your stupid, bigoted hand in the first place!"
I strop off out of the common room before he can reply, not interested in his excuses for being a shit human being. I'd had enough of them to last me a lifetime.
I've barely walked much further than a corridor when I hear it.
"Come... come to me... let me rip you..."
I whirl around on the spot, my heart racing. What in the...?
"Let me tear you... let me kill you..."
"Draco, if that's you then this is not funny!"
"Huh?"
I whirl back around again to see Blaise standing right behind me. I laugh, relieved. "Oh, so it was you - why would you do that?!"
Blaise holds his hands up. "Girl, I literally have no idea what you are talking about."
"That voice! If it wasnt you then you must have heard it... Didn't you?"
Blaise frowns at me. "What voice?"
"Oh. Never mind," I backtrack at the look on Blaise's face, "I think I'm just a bit tired, that's all."
But I know what I heard.
******