A/N: This is my first attempt at a fanfic. I don't really have much to say, but any reviews are very much appreciated, and feel free to PM me if you want. =) Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: I don't own HP or anything that goes with it.

Dearest Lily,

Come to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?

-Scorpius

P.S. Hope you enjoy the pastries.

I crumpled the letter up in disgust while practically glaring at the pastries he'd sent along with it. Malfoy had been trying to ask me out since second year, Circe knows why. I picked a pastry up and was about to take a bite out of it when I recognized a familiar smell…

That little git! I thought angrily, taking the whole bag of them and tossing them behind me, not caring where it went. Canary Creams? Really?

I stormed out of my dorm, through the Gryffindor common room—where I received a number of stares—and down to the Great Hall, where Malfoy was playing wizard chess with some brute named Adam Avery, who happened to be losing quite horribly.

"Malfoy!" I hissed.

At that, he looked up with a smirk. "Good evening, Lily."

Somehow, that made me even more furious with him. "Canary Creams? Honestly, out of all the things you could think of! My uncle invented those! How could I not recognize them?" I fumed, not caring that all eyes were now on me or that I was being ridiculously irrational. "You are so stupid, you insufferable little git!"

"Overreacting much?" he remarked, amusement glittering in his grey eyes.

I screamed in frustration, stomping angrily back up to the common room.

Dom merely raised an eyebrow at me when I shoved my way through the portrait hole after nearly spitting the password at the Fat Lady. "So, Lily. What happened this time?"

"Scorpius Malfoy," I growled.

Suddenly, Dom burst out laughing. "What?" I exclaimed, scowling. Dom pointed to something behind me.

An angry Mary Finnigan was coming down the stairs, molting bright yellow feathers. I stifled a laugh as I realize that she must have accidentally eaten a Canary Cream...

"Who did this?" Mary screeched, glaring at everyone in the common room.

Dom and I erupted into hysterical laughter as Mary simply glared and stormed away, probably off to find someone else to yell at.

"So what happened with Malfoy?" Dom finally asked as we walked up to the sixth years' dormitory.

"He sent me a note. Along with a plate full of Canary Creams..," I told her, giggling again. Anything that involved making Mary furious was okay with me—she was such a bitch—even if it meant having to appreciate Malfoy's little "gift."

Dom grinned. "At least those were helpful in the end..."

We laughed as we entered the dorm and proceeded to get ready for bed.

"You know, I've always wondered why you always had an issue with Malfoy," Dom said thoughtfully. "He's pretty fit if you ask me..."

"But he's so ... so... ugh," I said, unable to put my hate for him into words.

"Yeah, but he's fit. Haven't you ever been even remotely attracted to him?"

"Well, yeah, but it's not my fault that he's both hot and an arsehole!" I exclaimed indignantly.

"If you two weren't so competitive with each other all the time, I think you'd see that he's not a bad guy," Dom said, probably trying to reason with me.

I snorted. "Yeah, right. Besides, if he's so fit and is such a nice guy, then why don't you date him?"

"Excuse me," Dom grinned playfully, "But I have a boyfriend already."

Dom was currently dating a Ravenclaw named Evan Miller, who was probably the second most attractive guy in Hogwarts, the first being Scorpius. Unfortunately. And seeing as Dom was clearly the prettiest girl in our year—and had liked him since second year—they were a lovely match.

By the time we'd finished talking, it was well into the night and the other girls in our dorm had already returned and fallen asleep (despite the noise we were making) and Dom and I finally decided we were exhausted.

I tossed and turned for what seemed like hours, only to check the silver hand-me-down watch I always wore (a present from one of my many aunts and uncles) to see that it had been barely ten minutes since Dom and I had gotten into bed. Dom was obviously asleep; I could hear her snores—the girls in our dorm complained about that a lot—coming from her bed, next to mine.

After staring at the ceiling for a while, I realized that I was hungry again, even though I had eaten more than I ought to have at the Welcoming Feast tonight. Honestly, if I ate anymore I'd probably be the size of a blimp!

I decided to just skip lunch tomorrow in favor of eating now. Maybe breakfast, too, if I wasn't hungry again by then. Without bothering to put anything else on, as I was in my pajamas, I headed down to the kitchens.

When I entered, the light was almost blindingly bright. I blinked for a few moments before registering the fact that there were at least ten house-elves gathered around at my feet, asking if I wanted anything.

"Er, yes... May I just have a glass of milk and something small to go with it, please?" I requested, my eyes still adjusting. The house-elves quickly scampered off to get my food as I looked around, immediately realizing that Malfoy was sitting at the other end of the room, staring at me with an almost ridiculing expression on his face.

I crossed my arms as he smirked, "I wonder what you've been doing to get your hair looking like that."

I glared, realizing that my hair probably looked like a bird's nest, never mind the rest of me—I wore only a set of gold pajamas that Dom had given me for Christmas last year, thinking I would actually look good in it, which I didn't. Honestly, I could make the most beautiful dress in the world look hideous, while Dom on the other hand could look stunning in a fucking sack.

Looking around for a place to sit, I saw that the only table in the room was the one Malfoy currently occupied. With a sigh, I walked over—coming my hair with my fingers self-consciously—and asked wearily, "May I sit?"

"You don't need to be so polite, Lily," Malfoy said, grinning devilishly. I was about to respond scathingly when the house-elves arrived with my food, bearing a glass of milk about the size of Hagrid's hand and several plates laden with cookies, finger sandwiches, and other various snacks. I laughed a little at the fact that they obviously had no idea what the word small meant.

Thanking the house-elves and taking a sip of milk, I said awkwardly, "So... How're your classes?"

Circe, what had gotten into me? I was a generally outgoing person, always pulling pranks—which neither Albus nor most of my cousins had approved of, but James was quite proud of me the first time I got a detention for turning the Slytherins' skin an awful shade of green (how I was caught, I still don't know)—so I had no idea why I felt so strange talking to Malfoy. In fact, I spent most of my time harassing him, so talking to him shouldn't have been anything new.

"Good," he replied pleasantly. This was certainly a side of Malfoy that I had never seen. "I mean, I've at least been getting by. I can't concentrate in History of Magic anymore, but lately I've been doing pretty good in Potions. However, I can't say the same for Transfiguration... I swear, the lessons just keep getting harder. I accidentally transfigured Goyle's hair off last class..," Malfoy chuckled.

Malfoy had a flair for Potions, which may or may not have had something to do with the fact that our current teacher, Professor Burnett, adored him. Thankfully, though, he didn't have as much of a bias towards Gryffindor did, as my Uncle Ron had always told me Snape did. Aunt Hermione scolded him after he said that, because apparently Snape was on our side all along, but I have no doubt that he favored the Slytherins over other houses and had some kind of hate towards us Gryffindors. On the other hand, though, Professor Turner—the Transfiguration professor—wasn't such a ... fan of Slytherin as Burnett was.

"I know what you mean," I told him. Inwardly, I was reeling with shock that Malfoy and I were seriously having a conversation. "Turner's been pushing us all to our limits. And with all the stress about NEWTs coming up next year, everyone's practically going mad—Emmy Thomas fainted in the middle of Conjuring Spells last week."

"Didn't she do that right before OWLs last year, too?" Malfoy asked, looking thoughtful.

I nodded. "Constantly stressed out, that girl is..."

"That reminds me of Carl Boyles. I think he's a bit too, well, focused on his studies. I swear, you'll never see him without a textbook in his hand. Even during class—the teachers really get on his back about that," he laughed.

Glancing at my watch, I realized that it was nearly one in the morning and the food I'd gotten was untouched, yet I wasn't hungry anymore. However, I did feel considerably exhausted and stood up. "Thanks for the conversation, Malfoy, but I've got to be getting back to bed. See you at breakfast."

Before anyone said anything else, I climbed back out of the kitchens and headed back to my dorms, falling fast asleep before my head even hit the pillow.