My thoughts are still muddled when I enter the common room hours later. There had been no major announcements, and the Sorting went on forever, as usual, so I have time to think. Why on earth had Malfoy been so nice? None of it makes sense!

Parkinson laughs when she sees me, whispering to her friend, and they both explode into a fit of giggles - I hate her stupid annoying laugh. It's part of why I hate her so much. Well, that and she's just a bitch.

Malfoy waves at me from across the common room. I curtly nod, and can't help myself from thinking for the millionth time about why he's being so nice. All I did was help him win some stupid game with his friends.

"Hey, Mudblood! Why don't you tell us how you helped Draco win our game today?" Parkinson sneers from across the room.

"Sorry, Parkinson, I've got somewhere I need to be," I shoot back.

"Where would the only Mudblood in Slytherin need to be?"

I roll my eyes. If she really knew what I was supposed to be doing, she'd be too scared to even look at me.

She blocks the way to my dormitory, an idiotic smirk on her face. "C'mon, just tell us! Then I'll let you go do your homework," she sneers. Of course she thinks I'm doing homework. But sadly, I am not Hermione Granger.

"Just- let. Me. Through!" I try pushing past her. She stayed put.

I feel myself getting angry. Way too angry. I have a very quick trigger finger, and that means my magic gets out of control very easily. Paper is starting to move around the room, and thankfully the students all assume it's just a light breeze.

If she keeps doing this they won't, the voice in my head says. I hate that thing sometimes.

"Parkinson, move."

"Not till you tell me, Mudblood."

Now quills are joining the paper that's flying around the common room. Books are starting to shift too. Students are starting to realise it's not the wind that's making their belongings move.

"Please, Parkinson. Just move."

The fire's sparking, it's going to set the room alight soon if she doesn't stop. Students are starting to back away, some running to their dormitories, and those whose are too close to us are leaving the room. Some are staying, though.

Including Malfoy.

"You know the conditions."

I try in vain one last time to move past her, but she shoves me to the ground. My books and quill are scattered around me.

"Are you gonna cry, Mudblood?" Tears are threatening to fall - but not because I'm scared of her.

"Either let me through or leave me alone, Pansy."

She gets her wand out. I nearly laugh. What's she gonna do? Use the Cruciatus Curse on me?

"Crucio."

Yep, apparently so.

After all this time I thought I'd be used to it now, but no. My body is on fire, I can't think, I can't focus on anything. My chest is caving in, I can't breathe, I can't breathe-

"STOP!" I hear someone yell.

I catch my breath, peeling my eyes open.

Draco Malfoy is standing between Parkinson and me.

"Stop, Parkinson."

I sit up. The bitch smiles, actually smiles, and says, "Why is Malfoy standing up for you?"

"I-I don't know."

"Because she owes me a favour, Parkinson. I don't really want her to go insane before I can pay it back. Besides, last I checked I'm still the prefect. I don't want fighting in the common room," he says smugly. He reaches down to help me up, but I flinch back. I don't want him to touch me. I don't want any of them to touch me.

His face falls, and, glaring at Pansy, he turns away.

Then all of a sudden, they, and the others who stayed, either cry out in pain or hold their arms, staring at their wrists. I merely clench my left fist.

"I assume you all have to go to a meeting?" I ask.

They all turn to look at me, either worried or angry.

"What? It's not a secret that all of Slytherin house are Death Eaters." Well, some of them anyway. It's obvious the rest are faking – their reactions are slightly delayed compared to those of us who actually bear the Mark.

"All but you," one spits.

I smirk. If only they knew.

"Go on. If anyone comes round I'll tell them I'm staying up to study," I reply.

Although most other students can't Disapparate inside the castle walls, the Dark Lord's Magic somehow makes it possible for his followers. Or maybe Dumbledore allowed it because he has spies posing as Death Eaters. Honestly, I'm not sure. I'm literally not sure lol

One by one, they all leave - some grab the younger students who aren't yet old enough to take the Disapparation test, like me.

I slowly walk up to my dorm, listening till the last crack had resounded through the walls.

I dump my books on my bed, glancing at all my homework slowly piling up around the room. I am the only one in here. No-one wanted to sleep in this room, not since I arrived here with the others three years ago.

I rush to get changed, the Dark Mark on my arm becoming more and more painful the longer it took me. Glamouring myself, I pull up the sleeve, seeing the snake moving around. From the bottom up, the words echo. I copy the action I take nearly ever night, and Disapparate.