Draco's heart gave a horrific twist as he watched Neve look adoringly up at Potter.

He couldn't understand what was going on. He knew he had no right to get upset about this, but Potter had been nothing but a twat towards her and yet there she was acting as if he was God's gift all of a sudden.

The fucking Chosen One.

He wondered if he ought to tell her that it was him who told Snape to keep her on, him that repelled the jinx for her and him that sent her the Mimbulus mimbletonia.

But he hadn't done it for recognition - he did it because he loved her. And he didn't want her to know because he needed her to stay safely away from him.

He gave a heavy wearied sigh when he thought about the task that lay ahead of him. He had been up most of the night in the Room of Requirement trying to fix that infuriating cabinet.

And why? So he can unleash hell on his school; risking everyone's life, including Neve's.

"You all right, man?" Blaise asked, taking a swig of his pumpkin juice as he glanced concernedly at his best mate. "You look beat. And you're not eating."

Draco pushed his plate aside suddenly feeling nauseous. The temptation to share with someone what was really on his mind was too much. He had never felt so fucking lonely and frightened before in his life.

"Just a bad nights sleep," Draco muttered, his eyes glancing back towards Neve who was laughing at something Potter had just said.

He missed her so much, it physically ached. He longed to have those Sundays back when they had spent all day together in 'their' classroom with Trevor.

But he no longer had time for such carefree and blissful days. Not now he was a Death Eater.

And he knew that one day he would be fighting against the girl he loved.

And he couldn't see how she would ever forgive him for it.

*****

"Why the fuck do I need to try out for the Quidditch team?" Ron bellowed furiously at Harry, who was casually blowing on his fingernails as if he'd just painted them. "I fucking carried the team last year whilst you and my brothers sat on your arses watching!"

"We were banned for no good reason!" Harry roared, furiously sitting up straight in the armchair by our common room fire. "It wasn't our fault!"

"Actually," I timidly pointed out, "didn't you violently attack Dra-"

"Details, details," Harry quickly interrupted, pompously flicking his hand away. "Besides, I'm the captain so it's my way or the highway."

In the end, the whole thing was a waste of time because Hermione decided to unfairly Confund anyone who threatened to get in the way of Ron's Quidditch career, and Harry was always going to give his best friend a place on the team anyway.

I secretly wondered if he just liked the power.

"Quidditch practice will have to work around my private one-on-one sessions with Dumbledore and my amazing knack of landing a detention each time I walk into Snape's classroom." Harry announced loudly at the end of try outs. "So be prepared to be pounced on at the last minute and drop whatever else you're doing to attend practice because from now on I expect you to give this team your full priority!"

I had never been more grateful that I was so shit on a broomstick.

As we walked back to the castle for lunch, we were stopped by a third year Hufflepuff who breathlessly handed out envelopes to Harry, Hermione and Ginny, addressed in the fancy scrawl that I now recognised as Slughorn's handwriting.

I had attended only one dinner party since we arrived at Hogwarts for the school year and Slughorn had seemed less impressed with me by the minute.

"So... what are you good at?" he had asked me sceptically when I confessed that I pretty much flunked Potions and Transfiguration, only just scraped my way into Snape's Defence class, didn't play Quidditch and was dating no one of any particular importance.

"Um... Professor Sprout says I'm quite good at Herbology." I said quietly, looking down at my bowl of ice cream in shame as a few of the others tittered cruelly at my admission.

I had not been asked back.

"Ooo a Christmas Party!" Ginny gushed excitedly as she read her invite. "And I can invite a date! I wonder if Dean will be free?"

I heard Harry muttering something about a prick under his breath.

"Where's yours, Neve?" Hermione asked, frowning pointedly at my empty hands. "Did you not get an invite?"

"I guess he must have forgotten," I said, feeling my cheeks heat in humiliation. The rejection was worse than not being invited into Slughorn's circle in the first place.

"Well, there's still two months to go," Ginny kindly pointed out, "maybe he's distributing invites out slowly."

"Who wants to go to that sodding party, anyway?" Ron muttered bitterly. "Stupid Slug Club - nothing but a pretentious little gang of butt lickers."

"Well I was going to ask you to come with me," Hermione hissed, turning a furious scarlet as she glared at Ron, "but if you think it's that stupid then I won't bother!"

And with that, she stropped on up ahead towards the castle.

"Well, who do you think you might ask, Harry?" I asked, secretly hoping he might invite me.

"Dunno," he shrugged, and for some reason glancing at Ginny. "Oh, actually - I might ask that Luna chick. She seems to dig my moves on the pitch."

I sighed heavily, disappointment only because I would have liked to have gone; as kind as Harry had been to me lately, it still didn't make me want to be his girlfriend.

No - there was only ever one boy I wanted to be that to, I thought sadly as my eyes wandered over to the Slytherin table upon entering the Great Hall. My heart twisted at the sight of Draco sat morosely staring down at his untouched food.

It was just a shame he didn't want me back.

*****