The first Hogsmeade visit of the year was the next day, and excitement was filling the entire castle. I had never been before, so Harry and Ron wasted no time in giving me all the details. When I asked what we should visit first, they looked at each other furtively.

"We, uh, had been meaning to talk to you about that," Ron said, not meeting my eye but looking to Harry for assistance instead. He cleared his throat and also refused to make eye contact.

"I know you're looking forward to seeing the village, but uh. We have another, uh, thing we have to take care of. I mean you can come with us to it —"

"— it's not that we don't want to go with you —"

"— we're just kind of possibly breaking the rules and didn't want you to be involved —"

"— we should have told you sooner so you wouldn't be disappointed —"

"Oh for Merlin's sake," Hermione cut in. "Can't you two see how confused she is?"

I was, in fact, very unsure of what was going on, and had been looking back and forth between them for the entire exchange. If they hadn't wanted to go to Hogsmeade with me, they could have just said so. Hermione shook her head.

"A group of us are meeting tomorrow at the Hog's Head to discuss taking our Defense Against the Dark Arts education into our own hands. These two are trying to keep you out of trouble with you being so new, since this isn't exactly approved of. If you want to learn more, however, you're more than welcome to come."

I thought of Umbridge and her dangerously neglectful approach to the Dark Arts. I was certain "teaching" like hers would get students injured in the real world — students who were naive and undereducated, like my brother. A wave of fierce conviction washed over me, and suddenly I didn't care if I was expelled. I was going to get a good education, damn it. I grinned inwardly, thinking about how much like my new best friend I sounded.

"I'll be there."

Nearly a week since Hogsmeade had passed, and the first meeting of our little "Dumbledore's Army" had just ended. I couldn't wipe the smile off my face as I stepped out of the Room of Requirement, headed back to Gryffindor Tower. Harry really was an amazing leader, and I could already tell we were going to learn loads. I couldn't wait to see Umbridge's reaction to us doing incredibly well on our OWLs.

"What are you so happy about, Mousseau?"

I froze in place. Fucking Malfoy. Of course he would be here.

"Are you bloody following me? Sod off."

I made to walk away, trying to put space between us and the Room of Requirement where DA members were still sneaking back to their common rooms, when he stepped over in front of me, glaring down. I was struck by how tall he was as I had to crane my neck to look up at him.

"Believe it or not, I have better things to do than to care about your whereabouts. But now that you mention it, where have you been? You look far too excited about something for this time of night. Don't forget, I'm a prefect," he warned, correctly interpreting my furious expression and quickly opened mouth. I blurted out the first thing I could think of, desperate for him to stop asking things that could lead back to the DA.

"I was off having a snog, if it's that important to you."

His eyes widened marginally in surprise and then iced over.

"Give the poor bloke my condolences. I would expect a pathetic half-blood could only perform half as well as expected," he spat, shoving past me back down the hallway. I stood there, dazed. Where the hell had that anger come from?

Weeks had passed since my last strange encounter with Malfoy. Since then, he had gone from making it his personal mission to antagonize me at every opportunity to acting as though I didn't exist. I couldn't figure out why that bothered me, and I didn't dare discuss my confusion with Hermione. It was the day of the first Quidditch match of the year, and it happened to be between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Tensions were running high, and I was almost collateral damage from several hexes cast at Harry and Ron. Hermione and I made our way down to the pitch amidst a mass of red and gold, chatting about her progress in knitting hats for SPEW.

We settled down next to Ginny and a girl named Luna who I had grown to like quite a bit despite her obvious oddities. I was enthralled throughout the whole game, as I had never seen one back at Beauxbatons. It was a tense match that ended with Harry being knocked out of the air by a Bludger. Hermione and I clutched each other tightly, screaming loudly and maintaining our hug when we realized he was okay and had gotten the Snitch. Our excitement quickly returned to trepidation when we saw a conflict beginning down on the pitch. The two teams were squared off, and Madam Hooch was nowhere to be seen. I saw a familiar white-blond head facing off against two flaming red and one jet black. Before we had time to question what was happening, Harry and one of the Weasleys jumped on Malfoy.

I screamed "no" so loudly that my throat burned, and Hermione let out a cry. We sprinted down the stands towards the commotion, and I could already see blood. I realized with a shock I wasn't sure if I had screamed for Malfoy or not and stumbled down the last few stairs. Ginny grabbed my arm to steady me as we kept running. We caught up to the crowd just in time to see Harry and George stalking off towards the castle. I tried to avoid looking at Malfoy, who was lying on the ground, a bloody mess. I was horrified when I finally saw his face. It was almost unrecognizable from cuts and swelling. What the fuck had he done to make them attack him like this? Ginny was talking to Fred, who had been held back by all three Chasers. She looked sick to her stomach and mad as hell, and came back to relate Malfoy's taunts.

Fury swelled up inside me. What was it with him and insulting the dead? First my family, then Harry's? And why did he think money was enough reason to be an arse to the Weasleys? Any sympathy I had felt at the sight of his bloodied face evaporated — well, most of it, anyway.

Sitting in the common room later that night, I felt claustrophobic. The atmosphere was stifled with disappointment as everyone contemplated the season with three of the best players removed from the team. I didn't think I could stand being in the common room much longer, but I was too restless to go the way of the many people who went to bed early. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were staring out the window, so I ducked out of the portrait hole while they were distracted.

I knew it was close to curfew, so I hurried through the halls, trying to make myself tired enough to collapse in bed later. My brain buzzed with confused thoughts about both the fight and my own reaction to it. Before I realized just how distracted I had become, I found myself in a part of the castle I had never been in before. I was getting slightly concerned I was lost and about to get detention for being out of bed after hours. I sped around a corner hoping it was the right direction, ran into something very solid, and fell flat on my back.

The something very solid swore under its breath and I recognized the voice immediately. Could my luck get any worse than running into Malfoy right then? It was dark enough that he may not have noticed who I was, so I attempted to scramble back around the corner and hide. Before I could get very far, an arm shot down and yanked me to my feet. Malfoy pushed me up against the wall and shone the light from his wand in my face. He stepped back in shock, cursing again.

"Mousseau, why the fuck do I keep finding you wandering the halls?"

I looked at him defiantly, my back still against the wall.

"I suppose you don't want to hear I've been off snogging again, do you?"

He snarled and moved closer to me again. My heart started pounding. He had obviously tried to heal himself after the fight rather than go to the hospital wing, because blood still covered his pale face. His eyes were such a dark gray they almost blended with his pupils, and he looked positively dangerous.

"I'm not in the mood for your attitude right now, you fucking bitch," he hissed. He was standing so close to me that there were hardly a few inches between our faces. I drew in a sharp breath involuntarily, and a smirk spread across his face. He shifted so that his arm rested on the wall beside me, caging me in. What the fuck was he playing at? I moved, trying to create distance between me and this confusing as hell boy, but he moved with me, maintaining the closeness. As seemed to be a habit with Malfoy, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind to make him back off.

"Are you okay after today?"

I don't know who was more surprised that I had shown concern for him, but it had the effect I had wanted. He jerked back a few paces, looking at me through narrowed eyes.

"Why the bloody hell does it matter to you?"

I shrugged. "I guess it doesn't. Sorry for trying to be a friend."

Again, I was surprised at my own admission. I hadn't meant it until I said it, but I realized it was true: for some fucking ridiculous reason, I was attempting to be friends with this wanker. Unidentifiable emotions crossed his face, but it settled on fury.

"I don't need trash like you to be my fucking friend. In fact, I don't need for you to do anything except stay out of my fucking way. You don't know what I'm capable of."

I bristled. Was he actually referencing his Death Eater lineage right now, to me of all people, when he already apparently knew what had happened to my brother?

"Oh, I'm sure I do know. You're capable of hiding behind your loser of a father and his pathetic friends while they ride the power surge of fear after Voldemort's return. You're capable of being a coward but still taunting people to hide that you're scared. You're —"

This time when he pushed me against the wall, it was much harder. Lights danced in front of my eyes as my head made contact with the stone. His wand pressed into my throat and his hand gripped my arm so tightly I knew I would have bruises for days.

"Don't — just. Fucking. Don't," he spat, shaking me roughly. My dominant emotion was somewhere between fear and anger, but as he disappeared down the corridor, it shifted to entirely anger. How dare he treat me that way? For him to constantly brag about his pristine Pureblood manners, he sure as hell didn't know that you don't push a woman around. Then I realized with perfect clarity that I wasn't a woman that deserved respect, as far as he was concerned. I was lower class, half-blooded. He would push me around as much as he wanted and still have the identification of "well-mannered."

And sure enough, in the weeks that followed, his attitude toward me darkened. He stopped ignoring me, but now went beyond antagonizing me to outright abuse. He shoved me whenever he passed me in the corridors, tried to hex me at every possible moment, and spread as many vicious rumors as he could think of. The DA started taking turns walking me back to Gryffindor Tower after meetings, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione hardly ever left my side. I hadn't told them about my confrontation with him that night after the Quidditch match, so they were lost as to why he was so hostile. I was too, to an extent. Why had my words affected him so strongly?

The ending of the term arrived, and I was almost relieved to be leaving. Maybe some Christmas cheer would make Malfoy stop being such a Merlin-damned bastard. Classwork had been at an all time high for us fifth years, and I had felt like I was drowning. Harry and Ron had disappeared in the middle of the night a day previously, leaving Hermione and I worried sick. She promised to let me know what was wrong as soon as she found out, but I was slightly resentful I would have to return to my mother and be left out of whatever was going on.

I took one last walk through the snow to try and cheer up before boarding the train. Heading back towards the entrance hall, I saw a familiar blond making his way down the front steps. I groaned inwardly. Unless I ran back into the cold, I couldn't possibly avoid him. My feet were already numb and I was running late to get my trunk, and my anger towards him was building up. Steeling myself and ignoring the little voice that warned it was dangerous to be alone anywhere near him, I stalked past Malfoy into the castle.

"Oi, Mousseau."

I kept walking. I couldn't stop now, couldn't stop to see what he was going to do without my friends around me

"Mousseau. I'm fucking talking to you."

I slowly turned to look at him against my better judgement.

"I don't care what you're doing, Malfoy. Leave me alone today. Please."

He looked confused by my moderately polite response but recovered quickly, changing his expression into a sneer.

"Did wee Potty's wittle vision give you a fright? Now that you know that you're starting to see what he can do, are you scared?"

"What the fuck are you on about?"

He let out a wild laugh. "Don't tell me you don't know! My God, I thought you were friends with the Golden Trio, but looks like I was bloody wrong if they can't even tell you what's going on with precious Potter."

I tried not to show that he had struck a nerve by voicing something I had always known. I wasn't as close to the three as everyone seemed to think. They were bonded by things I couldn't possibly understand. I was in fact what I had worried about from the moment I stepped into Dumbledore's office: an outsider.

"That's okay," I said, trying to keep my voice level. "They don't have to tell me everything. Just because you're too insecure and pathetic to understand real trust and real friendship doesn't mean I am."

There was a bang and a flash of light, and I threw myself behind a statue. Malfoy's cold laugh echoed throughout the hall.

"You can talk a big talk, but you like to play hide and seek — just like your brother."

Before his words sank in, I heard his footsteps continue outside. I let myself slump to the ground. When was I going to start fighting back with something other than words? Merlin knows I had enough pent up anger. But every time I started to retaliate, I heard my brother's voice, reminding me that calm always wins. Why did I continue to listen when that advice worked out so poorly for him?

My brain twisted and burned with Malfoy's taunts over the next few days. At first I thought they were just that: empty words to make me question myself. But after almost a week into break and no word from Hermione as had been promised, I was becoming angry. Why not just tell me they didn't trust me enough to fully be their friend? I would have understood, even preferred that to being shut out with no explanation. An owl finally came from Hermione, asking about my plans for the rest of break, but I sent back some shit reply about spending time with family. I didn't think I could face any of them just then.

So I sat in my room and thought about how things would change once I returned to Hogwarts. I found myself thinking about Malfoy, too, but it only made my stomach churn and my pulse rise. What had happened to start this feud between us, and what had made it escalate so much? Surely my sass towards him one morning at breakfast wasn't enough. I supposed that sometimes, when you set two stubborn people with such opposite views of life against each other, this sort of thing was bound to happen — it was inevitable.

Thank you for reading! Please review to let me know what you think.