The truth was he had been much happier being a nasty little Slytherin. The only thing he had cared about was besting Harry Potter and that had been a simple way to live. Now he cared about how others perceived him, how Ginny Weasley perceived him--he didn't much care about what anyone else thought. She was important to him somehow. He had never told anyone about what had happened in the previous year, not his parents or his best friends. But he could talk to her and she would actually listen. He had only ever been that close to two other girls: Pansy Parkinson and Kat Williams. Pansy had been his girlfriend. She had the same acidic qualities that he had prized, though she had tired of his relentless quest to slander Harry Potter's name. Kat had just been a good friend, and she still was. He could trust her with his life if he needed to. He didn't want to betray her trust or Ginny's.

"Mr. Malfoy, I am not going to ask you again," said Professor McGonagall sharply later that week. "Please turn Mr. Goyle into an ox like I have just showed the rest of the class with Miss Abbot."

Draco walked to the front of the room where a rather small ox was feeding on a bunch of hay in a corner. He cleared his throat and muttered the incantation, "Animalius oxen," flicking his wand at Goyle. With a loud groaning noise, a large snout grew from his already large face, and his ears turned into horns. Unfortunately, Draco had done it wrong and Goyle was left with hooves for hands and feet, with a stubby tail growing out of his trousers. The rest of his body--legs, arms, torso--had remained human.

"Well, it was a good attempt, Mr. Malfoy," said McGonagall, quickly changing Goyle and Hannah Abbot back. "This is a very difficult spell." Draco nodded and went back to his seat. "All right, now, the rest of you, get a partner and try it out."

Draco worked with the others for the rest of the class period and before he knew it, the bell rang and Professor McGonagall called out, "Your homework is to perfect this transformation for next time. Class dismissed."

He had an easy time in Potions. He finished his Deception Potion an hour before the class ended and spent the entire time watching others struggle with it. He still found it humorous the way Neville Longbottom still could not make an effective potion without the help of Hermione Granger. Incidentally, Neville's potion ended up exploding and he had started saying the nicest things about Professor Snape ("I guess we know it works," Ron Weasley had muttered.).

"How did you finish so fast?" Pansy Parkinson asked as she corked her bottle of potion to hand in to Snape. "It took me the whole time."

"I've always been rather good at Potions," Draco replied pompously. "See you later."

"Yeah, 'bye."

"Draco, wait up."

He turned around to find Crabbe and Goyle rushing to catch up with him. He was going to keep walking, but instead he stopped.

"Why don't you talk to us anymore?" Goyle asked, walking beside him.

"I talk to you all the time," Draco lied, adjusting the bag slung over his shoulder.

"No you don't," Crabbe added. "We didn't get a single owl from you over the summer holidays, and now you're treating us differently. Like on the train." He looked to Goyle for support, and he nodded vigorously. "You didn't say a word to us."

"You haven't made fun of Harry Potter all year!" Goyle pointed out loudly.

Draco shot him a loathing glare. "Keep it down, would you?" They turned down into a more secluded corridor. "This is why I never talk to you--you're both thicker than a ship's hull!"

Goyle had to think about that for a while before he realized it was an insult. "Hey!" he cried. "What's wrong with you, anyway?"

Draco sighed. "Nothing, nothing at all." He glanced over his shoulder. "C'mon." They walked for a few minutes before stopping again. There were an abundance of Gryffindors all making their way down the hallway, Harry Potter among them. "Well, well," Draco said, moving toward them, "I think we've found the Gryffindor common room. Hey, Potter!" he shouted. "This your common room?"

Harry stopped and turned, watching Draco as he approached. "What do you want, Malfoy?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing." Draco peered down the hallway. All of the Gryffindors he had seen had now disappeared. "So, it is down here. I wonder which one--well it has to be one with a great fat woman in it, since she ran away during our third year."

"Shut your face," Harry snarled.

"Tut, tut, Potter," said Draco nastily, "you shouldn't say such things to your superiors."

"You're not superior to anyone," Harry said through gritted teeth.

Draco glanced about. "Where's the rest of the famous trio? Perhaps Weasley and Granger have decided to elope. They could probably get the Shrieking Shack for under a Galleon."

Crabbe and Goyle laughed, while Harry rolled his eyes. "Why are you even talking to me?"

"Because you need to be taught a lesson," Draco answered.

"Me?" Harry scoffed. "You know, I thought we had grown out of this little rivalry. I guess I was wrong."

Draco turned to Crabbe and Goyle. "Get out of here--I'll deal with Potter on my own."

"Can't we watch?" Crabbe whined.

"No, now get out," Draco snapped. He watched them go, and then turned on Harry again. "We need to have a little discussion." Grabbing Harry's arm roughly, he walked quickly down the corridor, past the Fat Lady, and down a few others, to a part of the school that wasn't often frequented by students. It was dark, cold, and even the ghosts stayed away.

Harry pulled himself free of Draco's grip, quickly whipping out his wand. "Now that you've got me alone, Malfoy," he said.

"Put your wand away, I don't want to fight you," Draco said. He showed Harry his empty hands to prove he wasn't hiding his wand, and Harry slowly put his inside his robes. "I'd like to officially call a truce."

"A truce?" Harry asked with a disgusted look on his face. "What for?"

"Because I'm sick of thinking up ways to insult you and your friends," he said exasperatedly. When Harry didn't reply, he said, "Look, we don't need to be the best of friends or anything--I just don't want to have to harass you publicly anymore."

"Well, you seemed to be enjoying yourself five minutes ago," Harry pointed out, crossing his arms.

"I was just putting on a show for those two oafs," Draco explained. He extended his hand. "Truce, Potter?"

"This isn't some trick, is it?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"What would I gain from that?" Draco questioned seriously.

"Self-satisfaction," Harry suggested. Draco shook his head and Harry tentatively took his hand. "But if you say anything about me, my family, or any of my friends, the truce is off and I'm coming after you."

"Yes, well, if I do that, I'll be expecting Harry Potter's army to come after me," Draco smirked. Harry stared at him with a suspicious expression on his face. "What now, Potter?"

"Perhaps you're ill," Harry suggested. "What about your father? What's he going to say when he finds out you've befriended Harry Potter?"

"I haven't befriended you, Potter," Draco replied nastily. He paused. "And anyway, I don't give a damn what my father says about anything. Now get back to your lousy common room before I really hex you."

Frowning, Harry turned and left. Draco stared after him. He couldn't stand Harry Potter--he just hated the little git. He didn't care what anyone said--Potter wanted the attention. He started back to his common room, scowling the whole way.

He had just reached the portrait hole when Kat emerged from it. "Draco, I've been looking for you."

"Why?" he asked simply.

"Your image is in trouble," she stated.

"What are you raving about now?" Draco leaned casually against the wall, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

"Crabbe and Goyle say they saw you talking with Harry Potter," Kat explained. "Something about you shaking hands--some kind of a truce…."

Draco scowled even more. "Those--I'm going to kill them--right now."

He made for the portrait hole, but she stopped him. "Draco, if you go in there and hex them, that just proves what they said is true!"

"Well, what am I supposed to do?" he cried desperately. "I can't have the whole school going on about how Potter and I have been cozying up to each other!"

"It's either that or hex Potter in front for all to see," Kat suggested lamely. "And you can't do that--not if what they said is true."

Draco looked at her. "So you believe them?"

"Well, yeah, I do," she replied.

"Great." He pulled out his smooth black wand. "Then I'll have to hex him. I'll do it tonight, after dinner."

Kat sighed. "Just when I thought you'd gone soft." He started walking again, away from the common room. "Wait!" she cried, running to catch up. "What is Ginny Weasley going to say about all of this?"

"I don't care," he said dismissively. "She should have known that I couldn't be trusted."

"Draco." Kat frowned. "I thought you really liked her."

"I thought I did too," he replied. "See you at dinner."

Draco stared sullenly over the rim of his goblet at Harry. He was laughing about something, surrounded by friends. Draco didn't even have Crabbe and Goyle now. They were sitting at the end of the table with a bunch of burly sixth years Draco didn't normally socialize with. Well, his father would certainly be glad to hear that he'd beaten Harry Potter to a bloody pulp, though he'd probably be expelled for it. So what if he had made a truce the very day he set out to break it? He only had a few months left in the bloody school anyway. Finished with the meal, he got to his feet and stalked out of the Great Hall. Once outside, he waited by the doors for Harry to emerge.

It seemed to take an eternity, but they finally came out. Ron and Hermione were arguing about something and Harry was bringing up the rear. "Hey, Potter!" Harry had just turned around when Draco yelled out, "Expelliarmus!"

Harry's wand flew out of his hand and straight to Draco, who tossed it aside. "I should have known," Harry growled. "Accio w---"

"Petrificus totalus!" Draco cried. Harry froze and toppled to the ground. "Oh, come on, Potter, get up," Draco taunted. "Go on, Granger help him," he said to Hermione, who looked fearful. But before he could speak again, Ron had thrown himself toward Draco, knocking him to the ground. He had completely abandoned his wand, which had clattered to the floor. When Draco got over the winded feeling, he began punching back, at anything his fist came in contact with--he couldn't see anymore.

"Oh, Ron!" Hermione shrieked. "Please--both of you--stop!"

Draco finally made contact with something that caused Ron to fall back. He grabbed his wand and held it to Ron's neck. "I could kill you right now if I wanted to, Weasley."

Ron narrowed his eyes, and then spit in Draco's face. Draco backed away, wiping his face of the bloody saliva. Ron kicked out savagely and Draco slid backwards across the floor, clutching his stomach.

By now a crowd had gathered around them. Someone was shouting, and then everything went quiet.

He woke up in the Hospital Wing the next morning. He glanced around blearily and tried to sit up. Hearing his painful groans, Madam Pomfrey walked over. "You're lucky you weren't expelled, Mr. Malfoy," she said sternly. "You did a number on Weasley over there."

"I hardly touched him," he managed to croak.

"Hm." She fumbled with a bandage on his forehead and roughly pulled it off.

"Ouch!" he cried, slapping a hand to the wound.

"Well, don't contaminate it with your dirty hands!" she exclaimed. Madam Pomfrey examined his other healing wounds and hurried off to tend to Ron. "Can I go now?" he questioned and she waved a dismissive hand at him. He wasn't hurt too badly, he thought as he walked down the corridor--of course, he hadn't been in front of a mirror yet. But there was still one more matter to deal with that might land him back in the Hospital Wing.

"You think you're really clever, don't you?" Ginny Weasley snapped. "What, was all that stuff you said a bunch of lies? Were you trying to get some Gryffindor secrets out of me, then?" She hit his shoulder roughly.

"No," he said defensively. "It wasn't like that at all."

"Then what was it like?" she demanded. Her face was flushed with fury. "Was your perfect little Slytherin image being threatened? It obviously means more to you than I do," she said bitterly. "You know, I can't believe I actually trusted you!" she shouted in wounded tones. "I thought you were different--I thought you cared about more than yourself and fulfilling your little Dark fantasies! I thought you cared about me! What did you think I would do? Just forgive you? You attacked my brother and my friend!"

"The only person I attacked was Harry," he said, finally defending himself. She narrowed her eyes angrily. "You're right, you know. Only a foolish little girl would have believed me. You should know that my loyalties have always lied with my family and not with any childish schoolboy crush."

Tears welling up in her eyes, she drew her fist back and punched him in the face. He staggered back, and walked away, rubbing his jaw. "Fine! Just walk away, then! You're a bastard, Malfoy, and I hate you!" she screamed.

He didn't let the sniffling sounds bother him. He couldn't let them. Like he had told her, his loyalties lay with his family, not with her. He muttered the password and stepped into the common room. Crabbe and Goyle, and the rest of the Slytherins in the room cheered.

"You knocked Weasley on his raggedy arse!" one yelled.

"I've never been prouder of being a Slytherin!" another exclaimed.

Malfoy ignored them all, except one. "You idiot, now you're going to be miserable for the rest of the year," Kat said seriously when they were alone in his dormitory. "You know it's true. God, and I thought beating Potter would be bad for your relationship, but punching her own brother---"

"There is no relationship," he nearly shouted. "There never was! And there never will be!" He was breathing heavily and the last thing he needed was somebody telling him all the things he'd been telling himself all morning.

"I'm sorry," Kat said quietly. "You probably don't want to hear this right now."

"I don't need to hear it, Kat," he spat. "Don't you think I haven't thought about all of this?" He kicked his bedside table, knocking several vials of potion to the floor. "I don't know what to do! A year ago, I would've thought having a father in league with the Dark Lord was the best thing next to seeing Potter dead. But now…I mean, I always suspected, but I never thought…I never thought he'd really do it…." He put his aching head in his hands. "This is all his fault. Why couldn't I have normal parents?"

"Draco, I know you can figure this out," she said, putting an arm around his shoulders. "You always do." She paused a moment. "You know, I admired you from my very first year here, and not when you acted all tough, either. I watched you…diligently working on your essays and homework assignments, with that thoughtful expression on your face." She laughed softly. "I didn't like you for being tough and a bully, I liked you for the other things. For one, you were a lot more focused then. Now, everything's seemed to have flown out the window. I wish you would tell me why."

He pulled his hands away from his face and slowly told her about how he had saved Harry's life during the previous year. He explained that he didn't know why, but that something had drawn him to do it, and that nothing had been the same since. He then told her about receiving the letter detailing his father's involvement with Lord Voldemort.

All she could say was, "So, what do you think you should do? Don't think about what anyone will say or do to you--just answer the question."

"I want to be a normal Wizard," he stated. "I don't want to have to worry about my father. I don't want to have to worry about myself." He paused and looked away. "And I don't want to have to answer this question, to choose. How can I choose between my family and everyone else--between good and bad?"

"Your family isn't bad, Draco," Kat said weakly.

"Yes it is," he said. "For God's sake, my father's a Death Eater."

"That doesn't mean you have to be," Kat responded slowly.

"I hardly have a choice," he said sullenly.

"Yes you do!" she retorted.

"Well, then I don't want to be!" He was on his feet, shouting. "I don't want to go to Azkaban when Voldemort loses!"

Kat watched him with concerned eyes. After a moment, she smiled. "Draco, I think you've made your decision."

"But…," he began, befuddled. Defeated, he sat back down on his bed. "So, that's it, then?" She nodded. "What do I do now?"

"You could apologize to Ron and Harry," she suggested.

"Apologize?" he asked with disgust.

"Yes! They hardly deserved to be hexed and beaten up," Kat said, laughing at his stubbornness. "Draco, you should apologize."

"No way." He crossed his arms, turning his face away.

She kissed his cheek and said softly but sternly, "Apologize," and then left the dormitory.