I stumbled around the empty passages desperately, my hands softly touching the stone walls, craving warmth and ignorant bliss but instead finding unyielding rock, cold as my own nature.

How could I have been so stupid?

I'd known Daphne liked Malfoy from the beginning. In hindsight, the superfluous cruelty shown to me at birthday parties and other such events were merely a show; get rid of the annoying sister so you can lie to impress the one boy you want to.

That didn't mean Daphne hadn't impressed plenty of other boys in the meantime. I was under no false impressions, and even if I wanted to be, "The House Broomstick" didn't allow much room for misunderstandings.

Still... she seemed serious about Malfoy. After her second year at Hogwarts, she spent the summer mooning over how he, Draco Malfoy, had lent her a quill. This was a huge deal apparently, and Parkinson had seemed frostier than normal when she spent a few days at Greengrass Hall.

Personally, I hadn't seen what all the fuss was about when I joined in September later that year. Malfoy seemed like the type of person to never let a thought interrupt his flow of conversation.

My suspicions were confirmed when, in my first year, he actually dressed up as a Dementor to scare Potter.

I remember laughing, actually laughing in public, stunned to see Malfoy try and bring down the boy who lived as he flew better than anyone else in the school.

The look on his face had been priceless as he fumbled around, swathed in black cloth, atop the shoulders of some gargantuan beast, although which goon it was I could not remember. Half-wit.

Though right now I was hardly in a position to judge his idiocy. My hands were icy, Daphne still hadn't appeared, and the castle was beginning to awaken with the rumble of students echoing through it's cavernous passages.

I shuddered to think what would have happened if Daphne hadn't walked in. I like to think I would have had the will power and moral decency to leave a slug like Malfoy alone, but even my arrogance has it's limits.

Sighing, I admitted defeat and trudged back to the Slytherin common room. If my sister didn't want to be found; then so it would be. I would not be subject to the humiliation of being found alone and tear stained by a crowd of my moronic peers.

"Salazar"

The wall opened for me, allowing me to enter the common room, and I noticed with relief that I had beaten the crowd. I could easily go up to my room and feign sleep; it provide the perfect excuse to my absence if anybody had noticed I wasn't there.

A voice interrupted my scheming mind.

"Greengrass." The deep tones invaded my privacy, and yet they were so confident I hardly cared.

I didn't bother to turn around.

"What do you want, Nott?"

Theo smiled as he paced slowly towards me, the silence softly threatening.

"What do I want, Astoria?" he chuckled, the laugh unnatural and eery. "As if it's that simple. One cannot know all that their heart desires. No Babbity Rabbity's to grant our deepest wishes."

Nott began circling me slowly.

"No 'Poof!' and an omnipotent wand, no fountain of fair fortune, no parodical enemies defeated with righteous magic. Life is no fairy tale."

I rolled my eyes.

"Bored, Greengrass?"

"Never. I am merely challenged by your ... original point of view."

He laughed humourlessly before stepping closer, every trace of laughter vanishing.

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, Astoria."

I snorted, but his sombre eyes made the sound tinny and childish.

"You know not what is in store. Stay away from Draco Malfoy."

"And if I don't?" My tone was as light as his, one eyebrow arched in a show of petty defiance.

He stepped away, backing into the shadows as he began the walk up to the boy's dormitories.

"Of course," he mused, his tone nonchalant, "everybody forgets. We can do magic too. And in the real world, sometimes life is a horror story."

His voice hung in the air long after he'd departed. I remained still as a victim of the Basilisk before I heard the murmuring of the first wave of students entering the common room. I took this as my cue to sprint as fast as I could up into my bed, pulling the covers around my head, hoping that they would drown out the voices in my head.

Nott's thinly veiled threats. Malfoy's reaction to my insane behaviour. Olivia Vogler's nasally tones filling with pride as she dished out the latest scoop. Mother's voice telling me to be careful. Father telling me to be more like Daphne. Daphne's screams of hatred.

The worst voice was the tiny part of me at the back of my mind, exulting at the brilliant kisses I'd exchanged with Malfoy.

There was only one explanation. I was going batshit crazy.

Crap. I think I'm falling for Draco Malfoy.

Balls.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

I woke up the next morning with a pounding headache. Unable to sleep, I'd tossed and turned angrily, my mind refusing to turn itself off. When had I turned into a slave to self-pity and other's opinions? I'd cried a little, and wriggled throughout every nook and cranny in the four poster bed, desperately seeking some comfort.

Needless to say I hadn't found any. My temper took a turn for the worse as I realised the only comfort I'd found in a long while had been in Malfoy's arms.

I was grateful that it was a Saturday as I looked into my mirror.

My eyes were pink and puffy, my hair a matted mess. My cheeks retained the imprint of my hand as I lay on it in my sleep. In short, I was not a pretty picture.

Deciding to take a long hot shower, I gathered my things in silence and disgust as I realised I was still wearing the same clothes from yesterday evening. Since when had I sacrificed my personal hygiene in favour of running around the castle, looking for my bitchy blood-relative?

Soon the water eased all of the tension out of my back. The hot liquid beat relentlessly against my skin, a rhythmic drumming that was deliciously soothing against my sore body.

I was slowly massaging Mrs. Whizz's Anti-Frizz into the ocean of knots my hair had become, gently teasing out the dreadlocks threatening to form, when I heard voices.

Pansy Parkinson and Betty MacDonald.

I recognised Parkinson's whines first. "I can't believe he's taking her."

Betty sighed. "I know! The slut. I bet she got on her knees and begged him to take her."

They both laughed at the double meaning. I felt sick. It was pretty obvious who they were talking about.

"He's just doing it to win me back. He's trying to make me jealous, that's what." Parkinson was in love with Malfoy too. I sighed.

Betty skipped over this without missing a beat. "Still, she's better than her sister. She's pathetic, the way she leaves Malfoy little messages, how she dotes on his every word... he doesn't even like her!"

Parkinson's tone turned vicious. "I can't wait 'til we're out of this dump and Drakeykins and I can be alone. It's so tiresome having to watch her useless attempts at flirting with my man, and then having to console her about her little crush."

Betty simpered knowingly.

"And yet I like her better than Cunningham. Did you hear about what she and Richards got up to last Halloween? It's enough to make a girl positively ill!"

I tuned out their inane chatter as the door swung shut behind them, thinking about what I'd just heard as I watched the foamy swirls of shampoo spiral down into the far reaches of the sewage system.

Daphne was disliked by her peers? I suddenly felt gut-wrenching sorrow as I imagined what it would be like to be Daphne.

To never truly be liked for your personality by anybody, to have to whore out your body for the slightest bit of attention, knowing that this will lose any respect you had gained. To have a mistrustful relationship with your 'friends', and to always wear armour so as not to be hurt by the perpetual knife in your back. To lust after the same boy year after year, and then watch as your younger sister starts to hook up with him. To cry alone, and have nobody care.

Switching off the shower I stepped out into the steamy cubicle and absentmindedly dressed in my favourite set of french cut robes. I painstakingly applied my make-up before casting a neat charm I'd learnt from my Mother to waterproof it. With an efficient flick of my wand, my hair lay in a neat curtain of glossy locks, flawlessly smooth.

Icy perfection. Finally, I hardened my face, trapping all emotions inside of myself, before setting off in search of my sister.

I wouldn't give up until she forgave me, even if that meant missing Nott's ball. Malfoy could do his worst, I wanted no part in his sick games.

At least part of me agreed, and for that I was grateful. I needed to get over Draco Malfoy.

He was nothing but trouble.

A/N Over eighty people read my plee for help, and you know how many responded? Zero! :( So the next few chapters are kind of filler ones until I get my books back -.-

On the plus side, the last two chapters had as many reviews as the first four, and so an update was granted anyway. (Thanks Ecirred, .Wannabe-Fantasy and dancelikeyoujustdontcare for them. And big thanks to colouringcrayons! I appreciate it more than you know :D)

As always, review? I do love them a lot. And it makes me want to post more often ^-^