Just a quick note, I'm making it so Draco became a Death Eater in his fifth year. J. K. Rowling never actually mentions when he becomes one, nor if he became one at all (not directly, anyway), so I'm still kind of following the book. Just a heads-up. And thanks to all the people who reviewed. I loved what you had to say. 3

. . .

I stared at the underside of the top of my four-poster bed, deep in resentful thought. Stupid Greyson. What was her problem? She used to be so mousey and timid, a general pushover. Then suddenly she grew a pair and now it's like she's queen of the school. And people actually liked her.

You like her, too, said a voice in the back of my head. I sighed, knowing it was true. Ever since third year, I'd started feeling things for her. It had taken me until fourth year to realize it. So much so that I'd actually contemplated asking her to the Yule Ball. I scowled in the darkness. No one would have allowed that. Especially not my father. So I'd been forced to go with...Pansy. I shivered just thinking about her. She was so clingy, and she acted like we were dating. Of course, I'd never let my emotions anywhere near her. Even though Greyson was a Muggle lover and a Gryffendor, she was still; a. far prettier, b. much smarter, and c. so much less stuck-up. Even though I myself had a bit of an arrogant disposition, Parkinson was irritating as hell. How could Father even think of making me marry her?

I sighed as I thought about Father. Yes, it was true, I used his name as a weapon to avoid trouble, but in reality, I despised him. He was weak, hiding behind money and a family name to get him what he wanted. I could make do without those things because I was clever. I was strong. Father simply figured he knew everything and left it at that. The fool. I smirked as I thought of his expression if he ever found out about my feelings for Greyson. That would really be a punch in the stomach.

I sighed again, thinking of her. It was all her fault I was in this mess. Why did she have to be so damned pretty? And why did she command my attention? I would have guessed because she played very hard to get, but that had only occurred this year. Maybe it was because of the way she looked at me. It wasn't fear, like the first through fourth years, and it wasn't hatred, like the fifth through seventh years. It was something like pity. Like she felt sorry for me. What could she feel sorry for me about? I was rich, handsome, prince of Slytherin's, of very high affluence. I was lucky.

Sure, lucky, I thought grimly, tracing the sickly green skull tattooed on the inside of my forearm. I shivered slightly. Just the thought of such an ugly mark grafted onto my skin made me ill. I'd never wanted to be a part of Voldamort's inner circle. It was a decision Mother and Father had made for me. They thought I would be pleased, that I would forgive them for allowing the other awful followers into our home.

They were wrong. I hated wondering if, at any moment, I would be summoned. That the terrible, burning sensation would occur, signifying that I was nothing more than a slave. But no one owned me. I continued to tell myself that, hoping that maybe it was true. I controlled myself, my own actions. Not even Professor Snape held any sway over me. They all thought I was in the palms of their hands. Father, Mother, Dumbledor, Aunt Bellatrix, Snape, Voldamort. But they were fooling themselves. I was fooling them. There was no way I was ever going to bend to their wills. None.

That must be why Greyson looked at me with pity, even when she was insulting me. She knew, somehow, that I was being pushed and pulled in every direction, that they all wanted a piece of me. But how could she? I rolled over in irritation, wondering what the girl knew that she wasn't letting on. She couldn't possibly know about my Dark Mark, or about Snape's plans to get me ready for a mission Voldamort would surely give me to prove myself. She couldn't know.

Suddenly, at that moment, I wished she felt for me the way I felt for her. I wished I could sneak from the Slytherin House and find her waiting in a hallway. I wished I could tell her everything, why I had to be so cruel to her, why no one would ever accept us. I wanted to be near her, to hold her.

But I banished these thoughts as quickly as they'd come. I was becoming soft, and I couldn't have that. I groaned as my eyes drooped closed. But I still couldn't help it. One last thought entered my head before I lost consciousness.

Ember.

. . .

I strolled the corridors, anxious to get to Care of Magical Creatures before the Gryffindors arrived. Maybe I could stay in the back and not have to confront Greyson today. That would be the best gift ever. I headed out the main doors and crossed the lawn, Crabbe, Goyle, and the annoyingly ever-present Pansy at my sides.

But, as I should have expected, I was too late to beat the Gryffindors. I spotted Granger, Weasel, and the Pothead walking across the grass with – I sucked in a breath as I caught sight of her – Greyson. Her deep red hair blew across her face in the breeze, and, in the late summer sun, I had to admit to myself that she was far more than pretty today. I swallowed hard, but kept moving, acting as though I didn't see her.

Suddenly, she slipped on the wet grass and landed hard on the ground. I couldn't stop myself. "You alright, Greyson?" I called.

There was absolute silence as Pothead helped her to her feet (Merlin, how I wished I was him at the moment). Pansy gave me an absolutely hideous look of confusion, and I hurriedly thought of a follow-up remark. "Wouldn't want you injured before class even started, now would we? Merlin knows under that oaf's watch you could get killed."

I was pleased as I heard my small party guffaw stupidly at the joke. Granger looked furious. "You just keep making fun of Hagrid because you know he's better than you'll ever be!"

I glared and approached her. "You listen here, Granger. I don't take kindly to words such as that. Especially not from filthy Mudbloods like you."

It had the desired effect. I smirked as they gasped at my colorful choice of words.

What hadn't been desired was Greyson narrowing her eyes, pulling back her hand, and slapping me as hard as she could across the face. I reeled for a moment, trying to collect myself, but before I could, she'd grabbed me by the front of the robes. "That was for Hagrid." she spat through gritted teeth. She released me and continued walking towards the stupid shack at the bottom of the hill. Her friends looked dumbstruck for a moment, then wordlessly followed her.

Pansy grabbed my arm. "Draco, are you all right?"

"Sod off, Parkinson." I growled, wrenching myself out of her grasp and following Pothead's gang.

We made it to the picnic tables outside of the hut and we waited while a strange woman began talking about this year's Care of Magical Creatures class. We found out her name was Professor Grubbly-Plank and that she was subbing for the giant oaf until he returned.

Returned from where? I thought to myself before dismissing the subject entirely.

Until Pothead spoke up. "Where's Hagrid?" he asked, obviously in a bad mood.

"Never you mind." said Professor Grubbly-Plank as she began to prepare us for the lesson.

I saw Granger tell him to keep quiet and not get into trouble, but apparently Greyson wasn't in a very good mood either. "Excuse me," she said, using polite words although her tone was anything but. "But shouldn't you know the circumstances of the person you're subbing for? You know, in case the stay is longer than you think?"

"That's neither my interest, nor my place, little girl."

"Okay, who are you calling little?" she asked, rising to her full height. "If you haven't noticed, I'm taller than you. Now where is Hagrid?"

Professor Grubbly-Plank's expression changed to one of anger and irritation. "Now you listen here, Miss Greyson. Professor Umbridge told me about you and your disrespectful ways. I am here to tell you, I will not tolerate that! Now you learn how to control your temper, or you will end up with a detention! Is that clear, Miss Greyson?"

Greyson's expression hardened, and I thought for sure she was going to snap something back, but Weasel put his arm on her shoulder to keep her from speaking (Just was I wanted to do, I thought to myself) and she merely nodded once.

The Slytherins chuckled at her, but I didn't join in. In truth, I kind of like seeing her be so rebellious and angry, especially when it wasn't directed at me. The rest of class went without incident, and it was actually a pretty good class. Nothing dangerous or possibly deadly to be found. I was going to like this new teacher.

When class ended, I could distinctly hear Greyson mumbling about how things were gatting way out of hand with Umbridge around. I knew she couldn't say it out loud, though. Pansy said, "Not so tough now, are you, Greyson?"

I swear, the look on her face as she turned to glare at Pansy I thought she was going to punch her like she did with me, but Pothead and Granger held her back.

Pansy sneered. "Yeah, you just keep her back, Potty. I wouldn't want a filthy blood-traitor tarnishing my own pure skin."

Pure? How can an ugly mug like that be considered pure?

Greyson was now struggling against her friends' hold. "Take that back!"

"Like I would. You know you're a blood-traitor! Always hanging around with filthy Mudbloods like Granger."

"Take it back!" she exclaimed. It was all Pothead and Granger could do to hold her back. "You're just a slut who doesn't know where her own business lies!"

"Takes one to know one. I'll bet the Dark Lord wouldn't even accept you! Just like your parents!"

That was it. Greyson twisted out of Pothead's arms, and Weasel tried to catch her, but she was too fast. Before a full on fight could break out, I stepped in front of Pansy, not to protect her, but to that she couldn't hurt Greyson.

"Back off, Malfoy! I have no problem kicking your arse, too!" she shouted.

"Fighting, Greyson? Well, that will get us in trouble, won't it?" said a snide voice from my left. We all looked over to see Snape standing there, looking very smug about something. "Twenty-five points from Gryffindor."

"What?" the four Gryffindors exclaimed in unison.

"But Parkinson started it!" Ron shouted.

"Tsk, tsk, Weasley, you shouldn't get involved. Your mother wouldn't like it at all." he smirked. "Now, shouldn't you all be getting back inside? Wouldn't want to be late for class." Saying this, he swept off into another direction.

I whirled on Pansy. "Why did you do that?" I snapped.

She was shocked. "What?"

"You could have gotten us all into trouble! You were lucky is was only Snape. If it had been McGonnigal, we would have all gotten detentions."

Now the Gryffindors were looking at me funny. All but Greyson. "Oh, save it, Draco." she snapped. "The nice look doesn't suit you. Come on, Harry." She stalked back to the castle as the Slytherins all looked at me funny, too. I shrugged their expressions off. I didn't much care about them, but rather a certain pretty Gryffindor. I insulted her trying to keep my status, but I defend her when she's in trouble. I just can't win.