Chapter 1

3rd December. Hogwarts corridor, 3PM.

'Relashio!'

The ladder beneath Seamus Finnigan's feet began to shake violently before throwing him to the ground, right at the feet of three students who were draped in deep green Slytherin cloaks.

'Lose your footing, Finnigan?' cackled their leader. Seamus was too dreary from the fall to note their faces, but he recognised the sardonic, mocking voice. Draco Malfoy. 'Levicorpus!'

'Malfoy, wha-' Before he could finish his sentence Seamus's feet began to ascend, dragging his body behind, until he looked directly into the face of Malfoy and his two cowardly minions. 'Fuck you, Malfoy. Fuck you.' But Seamus's cussing went unheard, or at least unacknowledged, as Malfoy was too busy bragging to the congregation of students gathering at the end of the corridor.

Draco sneered, and stepped closer to his hopeless victim. 'What's the matter with you, Finnigan? You're looking flushed.' Seamus could feel the blood rushing to his face; the result of both gravity and the rage building inside him. Malfoy turned and looked toward the cluster of students forming, then raised his arms in celebration, like a fisherman celebrating his catch of the day. 'Thank you, thank you one and all!'

Fumbling in the pocket of his robe, Seamus drew his wand and pointed it at the back of Draco's head. He ran through the incantation and wand technique that Harry had taught him, praying that he would get it right this time.

'Stupefy!'

A jet of red light swarmed at the tip of his wand, which Seamus flicked with impeccable technique. It rocketed forward, hitting Malfoy with such force that the crowd of students had to step aside to avoid being hit by the airborne bully. He crashed headfirst into the ground, collapsing into a forward roll, and then lay, dazed, on the stone floor. Seamus, having descended to the ground again after successfully breaking Malfoy's concentration, approached his attacker, wand drawn. The Slytherin lay unconscious.

'Mr Finnigan!' exclaimed the all-too-familiar voice of Professor McGonagall, in her all-too-familiar disappointed tone. 'Explain yourself at once!' He always found that Professor McGonagall had an unequalled ability to make him feel guilty with nothing more than a steel, cold glare. He genuinely didn't want to disappoint her, and, besides his apparent penchant for accidental pyrotechnics, he felt like he was one of her favourites. But moments like this made him think otherwise.

'Professor, I... he was... I was just...' She tapped her foot impatiently. 'He attacked... I was trying to... he... I didn't mean to...'

'Mr Finnigan, you are a Fifth Year now, are you not?'

'Yes, Professor.'

'And, in being in your fifth year, you have, I assume, developed the ability to string together more than two-word sentences?'

'Yes, Professor.'

'Then please, demonstrate your aptitude in kindly explaining to me why Mr Malfoy is unconscious at your feet.'

Seamus paused for a second, composed himself, and then began relating the story. It wasn't long before Malfoy woke up and gave his perspective on how Seamus had ruthlessly attacked him with as stunning spell while he was on his way to practice his transfiguration. It wasn't until Seamus rubbed his head attempting to soothe a painful bump that he could feel forming that Professor McGonagall could piece together the story. His fingertips were covered in fresh blood from a wound that until now had been disguised by his thick black hair.

'Mr Malfoy, I shall see you in detention. My office. Five points from Slytherin.' The Professor then turned to Seamus, ignoring the angry mumbling of Draco as he headed off down the corridor in the opposite direction. 'Get yourself to the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey will have you fixed up ready for my transfiguration lesson this afternoon.' He couldn't be sure, but Seamus thought he saw the faintest flicker of a smile on her face, as if she was congratulating him on not allowing Malfoy to go about terrorising students in one of his pompous rages, but he knew she was too professional to admit to such a thing. He would've been sure he'd seen the smile if he hadn't been awaiting the inevitable 'but' passing her lips. 'But, I shall see you, too, in detention for using a stunning spell on another student. You could have seriously injured Mr Malfoy. And we wouldn't want that now, would we?'

And with that, Professor McGonagall turned and walked away down the corridor, ushering students to get to their lessons as she went, leaving Seamus to revel in the congratulations of nearby students who had witnessed his perfected execution of the stunning spell on a deserving victim.

3rd December. Professor McGonagall's Office. 6PM.

'But Professor,' begged Malfoy, 'all I used was one measly levitation spell! He had no right to brutally attack me like that. What if I had cracked my head open? What if I had suffered brain damage? What if I'd been thrown into another student? What if I-'

'Mr Malfoy, I think we all understand how serious the situation could have been.' Professor McGonagall didn't look up from her parchment. 'But, no matter how measly you think your part in these events may have been, you have quite clearly chosen to disobey the rules here at Hogwarts, and you must be justly punished. Now, sit yourself down.'

The scrawling of her quill juxtaposed with the infernal ticking of the antiquated clock sat on her desk created an unbearable cacophony in Draco's mind. He took his seat and let his head collapse onto the desk, then clasped his hands over his ears in an attempt to block out the world. Sure, he had a bit of fun; maybe it was at the expense of another student, but it was just a bit of fun. He could have died. He could only imagine the hellfire that would be coming down on Hogwarts had his father found out about this. Draco's hands couldn't filter out the noise. The tapping fingers of that pathetic Gryffindor penetrated his barrier, cut through the sanctity of his private world. He covered his ears more tightly, feeling the pressure of his palms building on the outside of his head, but still the monotonous beating of his fingers on the desk battled through.

'Shut the hell up, Finnigan!' he shouted, banging his fist on the table at the same time so hard that it unsettled several magical birds who were sat in cages at the side of the room, likely used to demonstrate some useless transfiguration spell. What use is turning a bird into a chair or a magnifying glass? If he could make them ten times bigger and give them venom or tusks or claws it might be useful, but that isn't the kind of transfiguration that McGonagall believed in. The birds squawked mercilessly.

'Oh, Mr Malfoy, will you please just sit in silence?' said Professor McGonagall, who, this time, stopped writing on her parchment and looked the student straight in the eye. Malfoy stared back, unbreakingly, determinedly. It wasn't until the Professor turned her head to look at the unsettled birds that Malfoy put his head back down on his desk. She stood and approached the cages, slowly, as not to alarm them. Draco could hear her whispering something that sounded a little like an incantation, but it made no difference to the deathly squawking of the birds. She sighed, and turned back to the students. 'I'm going to have to take these to Professor Hagrid to deal with. You two stay put.'

Draco and Finnigan's eyes met, both preparing to hear the close of the door and unleash their attack. Slowly and subtly, they began shifting their positions to allow the fastest drawing of a wand. Whoever got their attack in first would likely be the victor. The Professor lifted the bird cages, two with an enchantment and another in her hand, and headed for the door. It creaked open, slowly. 'Professor Flitwick is in the room next door. If I hear that a single word has been uttered, you will both be in the headmaster's office faster than you can say Expelliarmus.' Malfoy and Finnigan continued staring at each other. Their eyes were ruthless and prepared. 'Come to think of it', she said, 'hand over your wands. I'm not having you demolish my office over some petty feud. Come on, both of you.'

She crossed the office again and outstretched one hand in their direction. Neither wizard offered their wand up. 'Your wands, gentlemen.' Reluctantly, Seamus reached into his pocket, drew his wand, and placed it in the professor's hand. 'Thank you, Mr Finnigan.' She then looked to Draco, who continued leering at the Gryffindor. 'Your wand.' With a scowl and clenching of his fist, Malfoy reached into his pocket and handed over the wand, ensuring he did it as angrily as possible. Professor McGonagall turned and left the room, swinging the door closed behind her.

They both waited, quietly, almost peacefully, as the Professor's footsteps got more and more distant. Then they heard it – the closing of the door at the end of the corridor. She was gone. Draco stood first. He launched himself across the room, kicking off from his desk, and landing a clenched fist hard in Finnigan's face. Seamus recoiled, and responded by burying his knee deep in Malfoy's gut. The Slytherin collapsed to the floor, clutching his abdomen, writhing in pain, before grabbing at Finnigan's legs and wrestling him to the ground. 'You're dead, Gryffindor,' he shouted, as he placed his hands around Seamus's throat. He gasped for air, clawing at Malfoy desperately but being unable to get a grip of anything but the fabric of his cloak. He tore at it frantically, trying to distract Malfoy enough to loosen his grip, but nothing. Ripping away the material, he exposed the bare flesh of Draco's right arm upon which Seamus could make out a fresh cut, probably from his fall to the ground in the corridor earlier. He buried his thumb as deep into the wound as he could. Malfoy roared in pain, releasing his throat. The pain burned as he prised Finnigan's hand away from his wound, then, in catching his breath, lost his balance and was overturned by Finnigan. 'Fuck you, Slytherin.' He pinned Malfoy down, contemplating his next move, then heard the slamming of a door in the corridor. Somebody was coming. In his moment of distraction, Malfoy's legs wriggled free and he thrust a knee into Finnigan's groin, leaving him winded and breathless. He collapsed onto Malfoy, their two bodies meeting, shouting out in pain. Attempting to keep Malfoy secure, he reached an arm out to grip onto the Slytherin's wayward limb, but missed, leaving his upper body unsupported. He fell onto Malfoy, and, for a second, their lips met.

Immediately, they both stopped struggling. Malfoy could feel Seamus's hot breath on his face, see fresh blood on his inner lip, and taste it on his. For a second they lay there, bewildered, confused, until the door to the office burst open behind them.

'Wingardium Leviosa!' announced Professor Flitwick, lifting Seamus from atop Draco. 'What do you two think you're playing at?'

Draco and Seamus didn't reply. Instead they continued staring at each other, both wondering if the other had noticed what they had shared. Draco licked the blood from his mouth, and then turned to Professor Flitwick. 'Nothing, Sir. Nothing,' he said, and then took his seat again.

Seamus continued standing. The goblin did not look amused. 'Well, boy?' Seamus considered his answer carefully, reciting different compositions of the story over and over again in his head. As he opened his mouth to reply, a thin trickle of blood dripped from his lip, onto his chin. He wiped it clean.

More footsteps, and then the displeased figure of Professor McGonagall reappeared in the doorway. 'Professor, what has happened here?' she asked, before the goblin ushered her outside and began explaining what he'd seen. Seamus took his seat, refusing to make eye contact with Malfoy. He tongued around his mouth to feel for a cut. There was none. The blood was Draco's.