I look up from a textbook, my eyes scanning the students in the classroom. I see him, his unkempt brown hair, round glasses, and new Gryffindor robes. My heart starts pounding, and I realize I have been starring at the back of his head like a freak. But I do not look away.
"I do not like Harry Potter. I do not like Harry Potter," I repeat over and over in my head, attempting, but failing, to convince myself that I do not like him. I have always acted cruel to him, ever since the day he rejected my friendship in first year.
But this fake hatred, these feelings that I was portraying, but not feeling, were just making me like him more and more. This is what is bugging me today. It is only a few days into the school year, and I already have to do Defense Against the Dark Arts work. I am sitting next to Crabbe and Goyle, Potter a few rows ahead of us.
"Malfoy, you okay?" Goyle whispers. I look over at him, away from Potter.
"Yes," I mutter, and look back down on my text book. We have a new DADA teacher; Professor Umbridge, a woman who is obsessed with pink, cats, and disciplining kids. She is not kind at all, not even close to it, but I guess I cannot say I am any better than her when it comes to attitude.
Umbridge is making us read out of a children's book about DADA, but it is not about DADA at all. Not really, anyway. I would rather do regular work from a past DADA teacher than baby work from her.
But, honestly, at least it gets my mind off of Potter. Well, it kind of does. Umbridge stands in front of the class proudly.
"This year you will be taking a Ministry-approved course," Umbridge starts, looking over all of us. Hermione Granger raises a hand, and Umbridge nods in her direction.
"But, Professor, there is nothing in here about using defensive spells.." Granger points out, a look of curiosity on her face.
"Why would a child like you need to use defensive spells? Who would attack a bunch of children like you all?" Umbridge asks smugly.
"Oh, I don't know, Lord Voldemort?" Potter says. His voice makes me feel.. different.. special.. But I push my feelings aside.
"Detention, Potter!" Umbridge squeals, and paces back and forth in front of the class. Potter looks as if he is going to say something else, but Granger whispers something to him and he stops.
"Now.. read pages two through twenty four..." Umbridge says more calmly. I turn to page two, and start scanning the words.
"...Class dismissed.." Umbridge mutters from the front of the room after about an hour. Some students were still reading, including me. "Leave the books."
I stand up and walk between the desks and over to the door, Crabbe and Goyle following me. I glance back to see Potter speaking with Umbridge, Umbridge shaking her head no, then Potter nodding.
Oh, wow, I'm starring again.
"Malfoy, are you sure you're okay?" Goyle whispers. I nod, then quickly leave the classroom and walk down the hall, Crabbe and Goyle still following me. We get down to the dungeons and step in front of the painting.
"Pure-blood," I say and the portrait opens, and we step into the common room.
"What's up with you, Malfoy?" Pansy Parkinson asks and walks over to us. I give her a questioning look. "You were starring at the Gryffindors for a while, two separate times!" Pansy says loudly and frowns.
"I was not," I say and frown. I hear Pansy whisper something to Crabbe and Goyle. "Seriously, I was not. The lesson was so boring I was dazing off.." I lie and shake my head at myself. Pansy nods.
"Okay, yeah, sure," Pansy says sarcastically, then leaves and runs up to the girls' dormitories.
"Thanks for leaving me here!" I think and sigh. Then I stand up and walk over to the entrance of the boys' dormitories.
"Malfoy, where are you going?" Crabbe asks.
"Upstairs," I respond and walk up to my dormitory, slamming the door behind me. I sit down on my bed.
"I. Do. Not. Like. Potter!" I say to myself, and bury my face in my hands. I feel embarrassed, even though no one knows that I like Potter. At least, I don't think anyone does.