I was angry. I was fucking livid. 'How dare they' was the mantra that pounded in my head as I climbed the astronomy tower and burst out into the night air. Automatically my fingers found a cigarette and I had to take a breath before lighting it, lest I set my fringe on fire.

"Granger," Malfoy said by word of greeting as he acknowledged my loud entrance, but I barely spared him a glance. "What did Potter and Weasley do this time?" Malfoy questioned after I'd had the chance to inhale at least half of my cigarette.

"What makes you think its them?" I snapped, sparing him a sharp glance. We were a few weeks into term and I'd been joined by Malfoy for my evening cigarette on a few occasions now. This time though, instead of leaning on the railing, Malfoy was resting back against the tower wall, his black cloak pulled tight around him, but my eyes were drawn to his hair, which before today had been just brushing his shoulders but was now shaved completely on the sides while the top was left to fall over onto either side, or it would if he didn't have it pulled up into a high ponytail. "Malfoy what happened to your high ponytail?" I questioned, momentarily diverted from my ire. Malfoy's eyes tightened as he reached to push a few strands of hair back into place.

"What of it?" He asked self consciously and I shrugged. I had no answer for him, but it suited him. "Back to your question, I recognise the look in your eye and the set of your shoulders. Gryffindors are always quite expressive and you in particular, carry your emotions all over your body," Malfoy leered, and I glared at him as I felt his eyes flick up and down my form.

"When you're done staring, could you tell me what you mean by that?" I answered, crossing my arms across my chest and then regretting it when Malfoy's eyes flickered to the gap in the top few buttons of my shirt. Pervert.

"For instance, when you're about to get violent, you get this little squint in the corner of your left eye and you ball your fists, when Potter is getting on your nerves you get a look in your eyes that looks like you want to strangle him, but you then remember everything he's been through and think better of it. How you feel about Weasley is always shown in your shoulders," Malfoy said softly, and I almost gawped at him.

"How long have you been studying me Malfoy?" I asked before taking a long drag just for something to do.

"Since the day you told me Hogwarts a History was your favourite book on the train," Malfoy said simply as he stubbed out his cigarette and vanished the traces, leaving me to almost choke as he left the tower.

The day I told him about Hogwarts a History was the first day we met on the train. We'd met at the toilet and since we were both in black robes with the Hogwarts crest on our tie and nothing more, it was obvious we were both first years. It had been a pleasant conversation with an intellectual student and I'd thought that maybe we'd be friends, until he turned into the world's biggest bully.

Noticing my cigarette had finished I quickly vanished it and lit a new one. Great, now I was chain smoking. As I stowed my thoughts of Malfoy away for another time my anger at Ron and Harry returned. Ron had cornered me in the Gryffindor common room and demanded I go on a date with him. When I'd declined he had then got mad and called me a common whore because I'd kissed him months ago and not done anything else. When he had stormed off, Harry had tried to comfort me by telling me that if I wasn't sure I shouldn't have kissed him. That at least got Harry one hell of a telling off from an irate Ginny Weasley and then I'd stormed out, my craving for nicotine reaching a peak I didn't know was possible.

This cigarette I finished slowly as I tried to let my anger fade away. I was done pandering to the whims and emotions of Ronald Weasley, and Harry Potter had another thing coming if he thought I was going to allow him to treat me the way he had back in third year. I hadn't been his most loyal companion for the past eight years for him to choose Ronald over me, again. Vanishing the cigarette I walked away from the tower a lot quieter than I entered it.