A/N: Sorry about the jerk-Malfoy, but most of this is scripted from the book with my own character's point of view, and as it turns out, Draco Malfoy is supposed to be the bad guy in these books... sorry!

I darted down the second floor corridor, screaming Draco's name. I was running short of breath, and the stairs were not working in my favour, but I kept going until I saw it. The flare of a black robe, going so quickly it had to be him. I followed him down the stairs into the dungeon, and arrived just in time to see the common room wall begin to close.

I dove into the crack between it, tearing my robes free from the now completely closed space. I whipped my head around wildly, but Draco was nowhere to be found. Then, I heard someone clambering down the stairs to the boy's dorms. I bolted towards it, ignoring the sign warning me about the punishment I might receive if I kept going. Somewhere at near the bottom of the stairs, I saw Draco again, briefly, as he slammed the door to his dorm.

"Draco!" I shouted, thumping on the door. I heard nothing in return, but the blood was pumping in my ears and I was panting so loudly it wouldn't be any wonder if he had said anything. I leaned against the door and regained my breath, then, slowly knocking, I tried again.

"Draco, open up."

Just as I was pulling my wand out, about to try an unlocking charm, I heard the click of a door being unlocked, and the door swung open. On a bed in the far corner, Draco sat. His eyes were red, but his face wasn't flushed. Timidly, I stepped inside, inspecting the room. It looked just like mine, but it smelt more of cologne, and instead of Weird Sisters posters on the wall, there were posters for various Quidditch teams. I made my way across to Malfoy's bed cautiously, suddenly uncomfortable. He patted the space next to him, returning to his default flirt option. I rolled my eyes and sat. Seriously, I the put a hand on his arm.

"Draco, what was that?" I asked, worried.

"It's you." He repeated. I nodded, urging him to go on. "You see, the Malfoys have been certain for centuries that they were descendants of some lost line of Slytherin. Each one has been sorted into Slytherin, and each child set a quest. To find the Chamber and claim the family's rightful title. Each year, as the search grew more futile, and the pressure grew harder to bear. My grandfather searched, my father searched..."

"And you didn't find it either?" I guessed, trying to piece together the story he was giving me.

"On the contrary, I never got the chance. My father never thought I was good enough. So he sent the Weasley girl to go find it. I searched desperately trying to prove to my father that I was worth something..." I gave his shoulder a squeeze, Malfoy had serious Daddy issues. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and then continued.

"But I could never have done it. I never will. I can't prove to him that I'm of any value at all! It's all because of my damned father!" He shouted the last few words, punching a pillow.

"Draco, I-"

"Don't say anything. I'm glad it's you." He turned to look at me with those penetrating eyes. I stared back into them, time holding its breath, suspended for a long moment. Waiting.

Slowly, hesitantly, Draco reached for my hand. I let him take it. With his other hand, he began to brush the hair out of my face. My heart was doing flips as he leant in, and I allowed myself to do the same. We inched nearer one another until finally, I felt the warm pressure of his lips on mine. He began to kiss me, and I complied, melting into him. After a time, he pulled away from me a little, and I could feel his lips pulled back into a smile. Our foreheads remained touching as he began to speak.

"I've been waiting forever to do that." he said. I nodded in agreement.

I don't know how much longer we sat like that, in the warmth of each other's company. But at some point, the dinner bell chimed, and at some point, we decided not to say anything and at some point, I crawled into bed and dreamt of that kiss.

Things were therefore sufficiently awkward when the new week began and I sat down at breakfast in between none other than the men on the moment, Blaise and Draco. We ate in silence, and none of us made eye contact. Under the table, I could feel Blaise shifting away from me, and Draco's hand fell by my side. I dropped my hand too, taking his. It felt right there. At home.

We spent the morning painfully listening to a lecture by Professor Binns. I gave up listening a short while in, my eyes darting around the room to rest on a snow white owl that was perched on the ledge. I recognized her. Hedwig. She was Harry Potter's owl, but what was she doing here? Mine wasn't the only attention Hedwig drew, most of the people around me were also staring at her until finally, Harry stood and asked Professor Binns if he could get her seen to. Her wing was pretty badly injured. Mr Binns seemed so surprised to even see students in the classroom that he let Harry go.

Draco and I walked through the corridors when Professor Snape's head protruded out from the door to his office, handing Draco an official-looking piece of parchment. He smiled as he read it.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Umbridge gave the slytherin Quidditch team permission to continue playing straightaway, I went to ask her first thing this morning. Well, it's pretty much automatic, I mean, she knows my father really well, he's always popping in and out of the Ministry... it'll be interesting to see whether Gryffindor are allowed to keep playing, won't it?" Why was he speaking so loudly and obnoxiously? I looked over to see Harry Potter, Ron Weasely and Hermione Granger staring at Draco angrily. I elbowed him hard, but it seemed to just egg him on. "I mean, if it's a question of influence in the Ministry, I don't think they've got much chance... from what my father says, they've been looking for an excuse to sack Arthur Weasely for years... and as for Potter... my father says it's a matter of time before the Ministry has him carted off to St Mungo's... apparently they've got a special ward for people whose brains have been addled by magic."

I stood in shock at what Malfoy had just said, especially the last part which hit me with a pang. In a flash of robes and red and yellow ties, Neville Longbottom began charging towards Draco. Crabbe and Goyle stepped defensively in front of him, flexing their flabby arms. I winced as Neville neared shouting ugly words at Draco and something about St Mungo's, until I saw Harry and Ron pulling him back to safety. I knew I had recognized the name 'Longbottom', Neville's parents had a room on the fourth floor of St Mungo's, right next to Betty's. On some of my visits, I heard them shouting deliriously through the thin walls.

I dragged Malfoy away from the cheering Slytherins as Snape deducted ten points from Gryffindor for Ron, Harry and Neville's outburst.

"What the hell was that?" I demanded, narrowing my eyes at him. Draco, however, seemed to be glowing with pride.

"Good, wasn't it?" he said, his arms folded, his eyebrow cocked.

"It was bloody horrible!" I hissed, punching him in the stomach. For all the good it did, he turned out to have a very toned stomach compared to my weak hand. I drew it back as I heard a sickening crunch, all the bones in my fist aching.

"Lighten up, Angie, it was all in good fun!"

"Fun? FUN? You are such a git, you know that? Neville's parents are in St bloody Mungo's. They've gone mad the two of them, it's heart-breaking. And how could you pick on Ron Weasely, really? A family which can barely take care of itself as it is despite the Arthur Weasely development, and you have to make things worse?" Draco had turned white.

"I-in St Mungo's? Really?" He began to shake his head "Aunty Bella, she's always saying..." He looked back to where Neville had slumped off, undeniably crying. "Aunty Bella you didn't..." he didn't seem to be saying it to anybody in particular, but his face had taken on a grave solemnity. "I-I have to process this." He said, as he turned and walked away. Annoyingly, I didn't feel angry enough to say something about how much I didn't want to be with him anyway. He had a way of doing that. It didn't matter. I looked at the clock. In five hours, I would be going to the first DA meeting.