"Congratulations on your win," I said, running to catch up with Malfoy's long legs.

"What are you doing here? Stalking me again, Blood Traitor?" He started walking faster. I sprinted ahead of him, blocking his path.

"First of all, don't call me that. I don't sympathize with muggles or anything like that, and you know it. It's not like I'm a Weasley, or . . . or something," I sputtered, giving him a nonchalant shrug.

He rolled his grey eyes, walking around me. His green robes fluttered around his ankles as he walked, Nimbus 2001 in hand.

"You know, you'll have to get a better broom for the next match against Gryffindor," I continued, keeping up with him, "Harry's got a Firebolt."

"Yeah, he got it three years ago, and I've beat him multiple times," Draco sneered. "Did I just hear you call him by his first name? What, are you friends now?"

"No, not at all," I waved my hands. "I'm just trying to make small talk."

"Go find someone else to talk to." He stopped, giving me a shove. I stepped back, nearly losing my balance.

"Don't touch me," I scowled. "I'm trying to be friendly." He walked in silence as if I hadn't said a word. Ah, the cold shoulder. "Where are you going?"

"Stop talking to me."

"You left the party early yesterday. Where did you go?"

Draco stopped, and for a moment I thought he was going to hit me with the broom. His jaw was set, his face twisting into a look of disgust and annoyance.

"What's it to you?" he said, taking a few steps towards me. "Did you follow me again?"

My back touched the cold wall. "You came with me. I was wondering where you disappeared."

He scoffed, almost in disbelief. "I was kicked out."

"By who?"

"Filch."

"If you don't mind me asking, why?"

"He thought I'd crashed the party. I wasn't going to stay somewhere I wasn't welcome."

"Did you make it seem like you were?"

"I was what?"

"Crashing the party?"

"Maybe." He raised an eyebrow. "Did you follow me?"

"No." I wasn't lying. Technically, I'd followed Harry.

"All you did was talk to that Mudblood and Potter anyway. Seems like the Weasley doesn't like you much."

What? Ron didn't like me? Suddenly, I felt horrified. "How would you know that?" I asked bravely. "Everyone likes me. I'm quite charming."

Draco laughed. He was laughing at me. "He avoids you. I could see him watching you and Potter speaking. The look on his face did not seem charmed by you at all. He doesn't want you there, Steele, or anywhere near his friends. Face it. You've been branded with the mark of the snake," he sneered. "They don't like you. The bad part for you is that we don't like you either."

"Who's we?" I spit back. "I've been here for five years. Take a look around you, Malfoy. No one has a problem with me except for you. I am pure-blooded. I have nothing to do with muggles. Or do you just hate me because I'm the only Slytherin that's not a Death Eater?" The moment the words left my mouth, I wished terribly that I could take them back. Obviously, that wasn't a factual statement, but I'd said it in the heat of the moment. Draco's lips were pursed, his eyes flaring with anger. He pulled out his wand, pointing it at me.

"Put the wand down," one of the men in the paintings said behind me. "You're being to harsh to the lady. She's got a point, y'know." Malfoy's eyes flickered to the painting. I wasn't about to back down; probably because I was pressed against a wall right now. The rest of the paintings hummed in agreement.

"Leave her alone," a witch said. "We know about your father, boy. Kids talk when they walk up and down these hallways."

"She's a Slytherin like you. What are you, jealous she's got a better life than you?" another painting spoke.

"Why would I be jealous?" Malfoy shouted. "What does she have that I don't have?" Before he knew it, I had my wand out.

"Expelliarmus!" I said. A bolt of light shot out, knocking Malfoy's want out of his hand. He reached down to pick it up, but I Accio'd it before he could.

"Give me my wand back," he said, his eyes shooting daggers into me.

"Not until you apologize." He lunged, and I dodged him. "Avis!" I shouted. A flock of birds exploded from the tip of my wand. Malfoy's long fingers wrapped around my wrist.

"What are you going to do with birds, Steele?" he smirked, reaching for his wand.

"Oppugno!"

The paintings started to laugh. "Good one!" one of them shouted.

Draco's eyes widened. The birds turned, chirping and attacking him. "Agh!" he batted at them. "Steele, stop it!"

"Apologize!"

"Never!" he lunged, catching me off guard and grabbing his wand out of my hand. In a wave, the birds were gone, and he stood before me, a cold smile on his face. "I'm going to kill you."

"Everte Statum!" I said before he could move. The spell slammed against his chest, throwing him many feet back.

Malfoy staggered to his feet, fuming. "Furnunculus!"

"Fianto Duri!" I said immediately. I shield went up in front of me, the spell bouncing back. Draco fell to his stomach, trying to avoid the disgusting spell. "Really, Malfoy?" I said almost breathlessy. "The pimple spell?"

"I'm going to make everybody hate you," he said, getting back onto his feet, his chest rising and falling heavily. "Petrificus Totalus!"

I barely blocked the jinx in time. "If there's one thing I'm good at, it's magic," I said with an annoyed huff. "You can't beat me in this battle, Malfoy. Redactum Skullus!" I wanted to see his skull shrink.

"Protego!" he blocked me again. "Now who's being immature?"

"Rictusempra!" I finally hit him. He fell to the floor, laughing.

"Stop!" he shouted, unable to control his laughter. He leaned over on all fours, pressing his hands to his stomach. "Steele, stop it!" He couldn't stop. I stared at him for a moment, shocked. There were tears in his eyes, his cheeks pink. I didn't think I would get him. Seeing him like this, laughing his heart out uncontrollably made me want to laugh as well. Get a hold of yourself, I patted my cheeks.

"It's good to see you like this," I said over his cackling. It was as if he was being tickled by thirty people at once. But if I didn't stop the spell, it could turn fatal. But he seemed so much less intimidating like this.

"I hate you!" he said between gasps of laughter, his face starting to get red.

"Malfoy, apologize and I'll stop."

He was roaring with laughter, his cheeks puffing out. "My insides are ripping apart!" he howled. "Fine! Fine."He tried to speak. "I'm . . ." he laughed even harder, tears pooling in his eyes. A few slipped down his cheek. "I'm not going to say it."

Fine. Whatever. If he died, I was going to Azkaban. I pointed my wand to end the spell.

"Finite Incantatem," someone said, but it wasn't me. Draco rolled over to his side with a groan, the laughter ceasing.

"You . . . filthy . . . blood traitor," he said, almost exhausted. I looked up to find Snape standing there, his wand pointed at Malfoy. He raised it to my face, pointing right between my eyes.

"Get to class, Miss Steele."

"Professor, he started it-"

"You heard me. Go."

I scowled, turning and walking away from both of them. Behind me, I heard the painting protest, "It really was his fault. She was defending herself!"

ϟ ϟ ϟ

"That's the second time a tickling charm has been used on him," Tracey said. "How can you study so much? I'm getting a headache from all this work."

"When was the first time?" I asked, tapping my quill against the table. "Tracey, it's been an hour."

"I don't study," she retorted. "I'm not that type of a person. And remember in our second year when Lockhart was our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? Snape and him put Draco and Potter against each other, and Potter used that spell. Draco hated it. I think it's partly the reason Draco wants to murder Potter and decorate the dormitories with his insides."

I smacked Tracey with my book. "That's horrible."

"Believe me, I heard it from his own mouth. Now," she glanced at me, a smile creeping up her face, "your insides might just join Potter's up there too."

"No," I groaned. "Tracey, I made him cry."

Her head shot up. "You what?"

"He laughed so hard he cried," I whispered, horrified at myself.

"Bloody hell," she said under her breath. "I can't save you now."

"Tracey," I grabbed her arm. "If you see him anywhere, will you tell me?"

"Of course, of course," she nodded, patting my arm. Suddenly, her eyes caught something over my shoulder.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Nothing," she shrugged, looking back down at her book. I glanced over my shoulder. There he was. Blond and silver eyed, with the most horrible look on his face. Everyone cowered around him as he walked through the library.

"Bloody hell. I think he's murdered someone," I nudged Tracey. "Look. He's got bags under his eyes."

"They look worse today. What did you do to him, woman?" she looked at me, appalled.

"I guess laughter isn't the best medicine," I croaked weakly.

"Look away, look away!" she hissed under her breath. "If he sees you, I'm dead too."

He didn't see me. Or maybe he did. But he didn't make an effort to come over and shout at me or make fun of me. He looked too exhausted, and it didn't seem like it was because of the tickling. There was something else going on, something Snape seemed to know about.

I dipped my quill in ink. I was going to figure this out, no matter how much he despised me.