Good God - our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is awful.

On the bright side, it makes for some light entertainment when Harry starts a fight with her during our first class.

He seems to be pretty good at pissing people off so far this year.

Speaking of, I have been getting the silent treatment from both Harry and Ron, with them always saying hello to Dean and then pointedly ignoring me.

"Ron, can you pass the custard?" I ask one evening into the first week of term during dinner.

Ignoring me, Ron carries on shoveling apple crumble into his mouth.

"Ron, can you pass the custard, please?" I say with more forcefulness.

When he continues to ignore me, I try Harry instead. "Harry, would you be so kind as to pass me the custard?"

Craning his neck as far as it will go, he looks away.

"For feck sake," I say, finally losing my temper, "how long is this going to go on for?"

Ron whispers something in Hermione's ear.

Hermione sighs loudly and then looks at me. "Until you admit that Harry is telling the truth, and apologize to him for your mother, they have nothing to say to you."

I glare at a pink faced Ron.

"Well tell him that I don't fecking apologize for anyone, least of all me mam!"

Ron goes to whisper something into Hermione's ear again, but she shrugs him off, an annoyed expression flickering across her face.

"I'm not an owl! Now just let me eat in peace!"

She reaches across Ron, grabs the jug of custard, and slams it a little too hard down in front of me.

Thanking Hermione, I glare at Harry and Ron whilst drowning my crumble in custard.

This year so far is the fecking pits. The atmosphere is uncomfortable since Harry's claims of an evil wizard returning, and everyone is big sad about Cedric being dead.

I think about cheering myself up by trying out for the Quidditch team now Oliver Wood has finished school, but it will mean having further interaction with Harry.

Besides, I don't fancy being Keeper. I'd rather wait until a Chaser slot frees up, which, by my calculations, will happen next year when both Alicia Spinner and Angelina Johnson leave.

So this year, I'll just silently endure life.

"Fancy going into Hogsmeade this Saturday?" I ask Dean upon seeing the sign-up sheet go up on the notice board. "I could do with stocking up on sugar quills."

For some odd reason, Dean goes red and he nervously rubs the back of his neck. "Uh- sorry... I'm kind of busy on Saturday."

I raise an eyebrow. "Too busy to escape the castle for a couple of hours?"

"Oh, I'll be escaping it alright," Dean mumbles, not quite meeting my eye, "it's just that I have other plans."

"A date?" I ask a little too sharply, thinking that it can't be Ginny because apparently she is dating Michael Corner, much to Dean's dismay.

"Not exactly... no."

I feel light with relief, trying to hide my smile. "Well then, can I come along? I really don't want to be hanging around like a pathetic loner if I don't have to."

But Dean still looks incredibly uneasy, as though he is sitting on a Blast Ended Skrewt.

"Look. I'm going to be straight with you. Harry's forming a club. And I am quite keen to join."

"Oh." I say stiffly. "What sort of club?"

"It's about You-Know-Who."

Feeling a spark of anger, I fold up the copy of Daily Prophet that I had been reading and slam it down on the coffee table. "Oh, for fecks sake. He really needs to start giving that a rest. He's making everyone miserable with his claims that he's back, and yet still the Daily Prophet have reported nothing."

"Shae, I don't know whether or not he's telling the truth about that night, but just in case... I'd like to hear him out, you know?"

"Fine. Whatever. Do what you want. I promised me mam I'd stay away from all of that though."

Dean seems to visibly relax. "We'll still walk down together, hey? I can drop you off at Honeydukes before heading over to the Hog's Head."

"The Hog's Head?!" I splutter. "Why the feck is he holding his little club there?"

"I dunno, it's just where Hermione told us all to meet."

"Oh." I narrow my eyes and glare across the common room to where she is in deep conversation with Harry and Ron. "So I've been deliberately not invited."

"Do you want to go?" Dean asks, a look of surprise flickering across his face.

"No, but that's not the fecking point, is it?! Who else has been invited?"

Dean shrugs. "Everyone. Oh, except for the Slytherin's, seeing as Harry is, you know, accusing their parents of Death Eater activity and all."

"Oh great, so I may as well switch houses like Harry suggested and become a Slytherin after all."

"Don't be like that, Shae-"

"I'll be however the feck I like! And I don't need walking to the sweet shop thanks, I can walk there myself!"

I feel hurt and angry. Being excluded like this is not a pleasant feeling. And it feels really horrible that Dean is now going to be on Team Harry despite the way he and and Ron have been ignoring me.

I don't bother going into Hogsmeade in the end. Instead, I sulk in the library, sucking on my non-sugar quill, making me feel even more bitter than before.

"Where's your boyfriend, Irish?"

I glare up at the white-blond haired Slytherin who is uninvitedly sitting himself down at my table.

"Feck off, Malfoy," I snarl, "I don't remember asking you to join me."

A smirk flickers at his lips. "My, my, Irish," he drawls softly, "that's no way to talk the guy who stood up for you. I'm still waiting for my thank you on that, by the way."

"I don't need you to stand up for me. I can handle the likes of Harry and Ron myself."

Draco chuckles, his silver eyes glinting into mine. "I've no doubt you can. But it never hurts to have someone in your corner."

"I have Dean!"

"Funny, because I just saw him leaving for Hogsmeade, laughing it up with Potter and his little gang. And here you are, literally spitting feathers in the library."

He reaches forward and takes my quill out of my hand, holding it up for me to see the mangled state of the feather where I had been furiously chewing.

"I've run out of my sugar ones," I say defensively, snatching it back.

"So why not go and get some more? Especially when the perfect opportunity to do so has been presented to you today."

I shrug, scowling straight ahead. "I can't be fecked."

Draco scrapes his chair back and stands up, holding his hand out to me. I blink up at it in surprise, wondering what the feck he is doing.

"Come with me," he demands, still holding out his hand. "I'll keep you company."

"Why?" I say, stubbornly leaving him hanging. "Why the feck would you want to walk into Hogsmede with a Gryffindor when you have the likes of Pansy to go with?"

"Because I don't want to go with Pansy," he says evenly, "I want to go with you."

"Is this some kind of trick?" I frown. "Are you going to lead me down a dark alleyway and get a bunch of Slytherins to beat me up?"

It's Draco's turn to frown. "That's what you think of us? That all Slytherins want to do is beat up Gryffindors?"

"Well," I shrug, "yeah."

"It's no secret I hate Potter. But it's nothing to do with him being a Gryffindor. It does make me want to beat Gryffindor at everything though, just to see the smug smile wiped off his stupid scar-face."

As tempted as I am to accept Draco's offer of company, I just simply cannot shrug off all the times he has cruelly called Dean a Mudblood.

"I hate Harry right now," I confess, looking him dead in the eye, "but I hate you even more."

He finally lowers his hand, a darkness falling across his face. "Suit yourself, Finnigan. But let me tell you right now, you are making a big mistake. You need to start choosing your friends wisely. Especially these days."

I give him a sharp look. "What do you mean by that? Especially these days?"

"You continue to hang around with Mudbloods," Draco snarls, all the softness in his expression gone, "and you'll soon find out."

My mouth falls open. The threat Draco making very clear.

As I watch him stride out of the library, an uneasy feeling stirs in my stomach.

Could it be that Harry is telling the truth, after all?

******