I really don't need friends, I've learned. It is much more reliable, more safe, to trust only myself. Most every Slytherin is the same, really. When we ask something of each other, we understand fully that it is for what we can do for or to each other – which is why Goyle and Crabbe were so nice to have along. I gave them an order and a purpose while they assured me my power.

Which is what makes this year so difficult. As I had in the previous years, this year I walk out of the train with my head held high. I doubt a Slytherin would walk with me though, because they daren't publicly endorse what my family now represents.

When the Thestral-drawn carriages come, as I now know them to be, I suddenly wonder whom I should sit with. I've walked automatically up to where everyone else is, where Parkinson, Zabini, Greengrass, and Bulstrode are all entering a carriage – the only other Slytherins left of our year. They are pointedly ignoring me, and I don't dare even try to enter. Maybe they'll talk with me in the common room.

I nervously straighten my clothes and hair as I look around, still gritting my teeth. Potter, Granger, and Weasley already had their carriage, I see. What I don't see is the thestrals themselves, but I daren't think about them. Third-years have all boarded, Ravenclaws seem to all have found carriages, and slowly I see my options slip away. I see Abbot and some other Hufflepuff witches entering another carriage and I rush to that one. I figure the Hufflepuffs are too weak to do anything too nasty, and I don't look fully out of place.

Abbot gives me a startled look, not quite a glare, and Jones scooches a bit away from me as I sit down, but I mentally brush it off. "No need to stand on my account," I assure them. Bones seems to want to speak, but thinks better of it. No one responds, and the journey is painfully quiet.

I jump out as soon as the carriage stops, and I head for the dining hall. I don't like it though, having to do all this. Still, there's just a speech and a feast left, and then I can finally rest.

And then…tomorrow. But I'll work on that when it comes.

Speaking of problems, bloody hell! Where am I supposed to sit? Oh, no, okay, I just overreacted. Again, they aren't going to talk to me out here, as they'll be in disfavor even with some Slytherin professors, but it'll be fine if I sit down.

Still, it takes me a bit of self-convincing to sit where I always do.

Without being too obvious, I note that Pansy has her eyes narrowed, and several Slytherins are pointedly looking away.

"Students of Hogwarts, we have a new year before us," came Dumbledor's voice. "As well as new first years." But I'm looking over at Professor Snape, and it takes me a moment to realize why. I want to see at least one friendly face. Snape, friendly? But it's all I've got. Come on, snape. Notice me, please.

And then he does notice me, and he gives me the most contemptible glare. I feel…I can't take it. Suddenly my throat hurts and I can't swallow. Professor McGonagall is still calling off names, but it's harder to hear anything. My housemates are ignoring me, my parents hate me, my godfather now hates me, and everyone else…their faces spin about me, so I take a drink of water and take a deep breath.

Things don't seem to be spinning so much now, but everything does seem more gray. I don't know why I had been looking forward to school – now that I'm here, I just want to leave.

Can I? The first-years are now sorted – we've got six new Slytherins – and everyone's chowing down. The slobs. If I had an appetite, I'd lose it now, but at the moment their gluttony serves as a distraction.

I surreptitiously get up and leave the dining hall. I'm still trying to figure out where it is I want to go when I see Granger and Potter coming my way. Wait, what are they doing here for?

"What are you doing here for, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, mirroring my internal question. Potter seemed disinterested.

"Walking," I responded. I didn't want to have to deal with this. "Please don't interrupt, mudblood."

I try to step through, but Potter is in the way, and I don't even want to creep around him. It's not that he's angry; Hermione had put a hand back as if to stop Harry from retaliating, but he hadn't even blinked. And it creeped me out a bit. If I weren't so tired, I wouldn't let him get away with this.

"Malfoy," Potter finally responded, "your curse words only matter if we care about your opinion."

"Oh don't be too hard on him Harry," and now I was really worried, for she was looking at me with a look of vengeance. "Don't you see why he left the hall?"

"I'm tired of Dumbledor's rants," I replied. "Now get out of my way."

"But normally you chat with your friends, right? Make little Slytherin jokes."

This time I can't respond. Harry doesn't either, but he has the beginnings of a small, cold smile. Why am I still here? I couldn't follow what she was getting at. It's not like I needed to talk to the other slytherins. Or wanted to.

"That's right. Crabbe and Goyle. Your friends. And…Pansy? Zabini? Did you talk with them? Or anyone else? Any of those people that are still willing to talk to you?"

I can feel my teeth grit. "They'll talk to me! They're trying to give you the illusion of security!"

"Is that what they told you?" Potter asked. And now he was outright grinning. Damn him! This is all his fault anyway!

It's taking all my control to keep from hexing them, but I don't. Instead, I walk around them. "Granger, Potter! Watch your back!"

And then all I feel like doing is running to my room. The walk takes forever, and then I numbly put up a bunch of protection spells, while trying not to think about why. I keep punching the bed posts just to distract me, until I've finished the round of spells.

And then I slip into bed. And I can't sleep.

Potter. Granger and Potter, what were they doing in that hall, anyway? Probably making out. Just my luck to run into them.

I left because…because I couldn't handle Snapes' loathing. I had wanted more his regard than ever my father's, and he'd never actually disapproved of me. But my other friends, they'd still…I mean, they were my friends. Not friends the way Granger and Potter were. But they'd still talk to me.

Though I felt a knot tighten in my chest, and my throat felt even more sore. Would they still talk to me? I already knew the answer, and I couldn't swallow.

Granger was a bloody whore anyhow, but it was Potter's sneer that got to me. Granger wasn't important. It was Potter that everyone loved or hated. Potter that had gotten me in this position to begin with. I'd get him back. I will get him back.

In fact…I'll have to look in my chest.

I wasn't able to bring any inherently dark magic items, as Hogwarts has protections against them, but I had access to enough powerful items. The Hand of Glory, for example, would allow me to walk with a candles' light that no one else would be able to see. The Ring of Lies, on the other hand, vibrates when someone tries to deceive its wearer. And then, there is the Quaru Cube, which is an artifact that paralyzes as a defense measure. It's basically a trap, and it's made for manipulability, including in how the paralysis occurs. I should be able to have it quickly transport the victim to a discrete location…

I have a plan, now, and suddenly I feel much more ready to sleep. I can fix the details tomorrow; I will have my vengeance on Potter.