"So you're one of these Death Eaters?"

Draco swallowed, looking down at his left arm. He slowly lifted the sleeve of his shirt, revealing the Dark Mark.

"I didn't have a choice, Astrid," he muttered bitterly, hesitant to look up into her eyes, afraid of what he might see there, "you don't say no to Lord Voldemort."

She shuffled along the sofa so that she was now right next to him. His stomach knotted as he caught a whiff of what he guessed must be her shampoo.

To his surprise, she reached out her hand and delicately brushed her fingertips over the black ink of his offending tattoo. He couldn't help but shudder as he closed his eyes in the pure pleasure of her touch.

"I'm so sorry they did that to you, Draco," she whispered, not removing her hand. He dared look up at her, and he felt a frisson of electricity as their eyes met. She was looking at him with such a heartfelt sadness it made him ache to take her in his arms.

But instead, he quickly stood up, and her hand dropped away from his arm. He walked over to the Vanishing Cabinet, opening the door and inspecting it throughout.

"He wants me to fix this," he explained, feeling her questioning eyes upon him. "It will give the Death Eaters a means to enter the school."

"Why would they want to do that?" Astrid asked, and he sensed her stand up and walk towards where he stood.

"Because, Astrid," he said, looking down at her and taking a deep breath, "Voldemort wants me to kill Professor Dumbledore."

Her deep blue eyes widened in shock, "Your headmaster?" she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

Draco squeezed his eyes tight shut. It made him feel queasy every time he just thought about it. He had no idea how he was going to actually go through with the deed.

"What kind of sick request is that?" Astrid went on. "Why doesn't the coward just come in and kill Dumbledore himself rather than get a school kid to do it."

"I am not a kid!"

"Yes, Draco - you are. We are both kids. And neither of us should be in the situations we are in right now."

"What am I supposed to do, Astrid?" he cried in a strangled voice, "he's going to kill my mother if I don't do it. He's going to kill me."

His voice choked and he struggled to hold back the tears. He heard her give a horrified gasp, and suddenly he felt her arms snake around him. He gratefully pulled her to him, wrapping his own arms fiercely around her as he drew comfort from her embrace.

"I'll help you," she murmured, looking up at him with glistening eyes. "I know I'm not a witch, but I'll help you any way I can. You are not alone Draco. You've got me."

And as Draco held her tightly to him, he had never been so glad that his eleven year old self had been curious enough to step into the world of Muggles.

...

Draco stayed with me until the early hours of the morning that first night. He told me everything he could think of about the wizarding world. My head was full of baffled wonderment by the time I fell asleep.

When Draco turned up the next morning with breakfast, he had also brought me something else.

"Here," he said, dropping what looked like a black cloak in my lap, "you can't stay hidden in here all the time, you'll go crazy."

"What is this?" I asked, picking it up in my hands and looking at it perplexedly, there was a yellow emblem of a badger emblazoned on it.

"It's a Hufflepuff cloak," he murmured, walking back over to the cabinet, "it'll help you to blend in. I did think about putting you in Slytherin but I'm worried about them asking you questions about your blood."

"My blood?" I asked, utterly confused by what Draco was going on about.

"Yes, us Slytherin's are known for our blood pride." His voice came out muffled due to his head being entirely inside the cabinet. "They'll get suspicious straight away. Hufflepuff's will just be nice to you."

"You want me to join Hufflepuff?" I asked, my jaw dropping open incredulously, "Draco, they're going to soon realise that I'm not a witch! And what's this rubbish about blood pride?"

"I'm not suggesting you join them for classes, just sit with them at meal times. There's enough students here for you to blend in anonymously. I feel like you're some kind of prisoner trapped in here all the time with only me to talk to." He sighed heavily, standing back from the cabinet now and running his fingers tiredly through his hair. "And the blood thing - it's about having pure wizarding blood. It's everything Voldemort represents. He doesn't believe that we should mix with Muggles, especially when they take our magic."

I was alarmed at the bitterness in his voice at this last part.

"You think so too, don't you?" I laughed incredulously, "you think wizards and Muggles shouldn't mix."

"Well, clearly that's not true!" He spluttered looking pointedly at me, "I just don't buy that they have magical powers out of nowhere. There are some people like you who grow up in Muggle families and get invited to Hogwarts. It's... not right."

"Oh, and this is!" I said, shrugging on the Hufflepuff cloak to prove my point. "Draco, all these years we've been friends and I had no idea you were so flipping prejudiced!"

"I'm not prejudiced," he said calmly, walking over to me and bringing his hands up to straighten my cloak, "I'm a traditionalist. And this - with you-" he said beckoning down at my cloak, "is just pretend."

"If you say so," I muttered, as my eyes met his. I felt a strange kind of static in the air between us. I wondered if he too felt it, as he suddenly took a step back looking flustered.

"I've got to go to classes," he murmured, not meeting my eye, "I'll come and get you at lunch and show you down to the Great Hall. You can go meet some fellow Hufflepuffs. Just don't believe anything they say about me."

To be honest, I thought wryly as he exited the room, nothing I could ever hear about that boy would surprise me anymore.