Hogwarts was becoming more and more like a prison as the days went by. Professor Umbridge was questioning all the teachers and making up rules left, right, and centre. The oppressive atmosphere weighed heavily on everyone. Thank Merlin Christmas break was just around the corner.

Eleanor was sitting in the Slytherin common room with Daphne and Blaise, who had started dating over the summer. They were chatting quietly when Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy came striding in, all of them grinning smugly.

"What have you lot been up to?" Blaise asked, turning to face them.

"We've just joined the Inquisitorial Squad," Pansy announced, her smile widening.

"The what?" Daphne blinked, clearly confused.

"The Inquisitorial Squad," Draco said, proudly showing off the silver badge pinned to his robes. "You guys can sign up too. Extra credit, plus you get the power to dock points from students breaking the rules."

"So, basically, you're doing Professor Umbridge's job for her?" Eleanor asked, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe if she can't keep track of all the students at Hogwarts, she shouldn't have so many bloody rules."

"Oh, be quiet, Weasley," Pansy snapped, rolling her eyes.

"What are you going to do? Take points away from Slytherin?" Eleanor laughed, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Pansy huffed and took a seat on the couch opposite Eleanor, her arms crossed over her chest in annoyance.

Eleanor, Daphne, and Blaise went back to their conversation, ignoring the new members of the Inquisitorial Squad. Eleanor had discovered that Professor Umbridge believed Harry Potter was training an army of students in secret. Honestly, knowing Harry, it didn't come as much of a shock to Eleanor when she heard the news. It was more likely to be true than false.

As for the almost-kiss between Eleanor and Draco, nothing had been said about it. Both had avoided the topic, but it lingered in the back of their minds. Tonight, however, with everyone else off to bed, Eleanor was finishing some homework, and Draco had been waiting for this moment to get her alone and talk.

The common room was quiet, the only sounds were the crackling of the fire and the scratching of Eleanor's quill on parchment. Draco watched her for a few moments, gathering his thoughts before walking over to her. "Weasley, can I talk to you for a moment?"

Eleanor's heart skipped a beat. "Sure," she said, shuffling over on the couch so he could sit beside her.

Draco sat down, turning to face her, his expression serious. "About that night," he began.

Eleanor nodded, waiting for him to continue.

Draco ran a hand through his hair, looking unusually nervous. "I don't know what's happening," he admitted. "But I can't stop thinking about you."

Eleanor's breath caught in her throat. "The Slytherin prince can't stop thinking about little old me?" She teased.

"Don't tease, Weasley," Draco warned, although his eyes held a hint of warmth, as if he liked Eleanor teasing him. "What should we do about this?"

Eleanor bit her lip, considering. "Maybe we should try to be friends," she suggested cautiously.

Draco's expression softened. "Friends," he repeated, as if testing the word. "I think I could manage that."

Eleanor smiled, feeling a strange sense of relief. "Good."

As they sat there, an unspoken understanding passed between them. It was a tentative beginning, but it was a start.

Eleanor cleared her throat when Draco got that look on his face that he had that night they almost kissed. "I should probably-"

"Do you wish it happened?" Draco interrupted, his voice cutting through the silence.

"What?" Eleanor laughed awkwardly, caught off guard.

"Do you wish the kiss happened?" Draco asked, his eyes searching hers intently. "Do you wish that Daphne never came looking for you?"

"No, it's... it's a good thing it didn't happen," Eleanor stammered, her heart hammering against her chest as Draco's gaze seemed to pierce right through her.

Draco leaned in slightly, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. "You're lying," he whispered, his eyes darting down to her lips. Eleanor shifted nervously in her seat as Draco's thumb gently dragged across her bottom lip before resting on her cheek.

Draco used his hand to slowly bring her face closer to his. Eleanor's eyes widened, her breath hitching as their faces inched closer. Just before their eyes could flutter shut, the door to the common room burst open, and with a gasp, Eleanor shot up from her seat.

Crabbe and Goyle came stumbling in, laughing and carrying an armload of sweets.

"Crabbe, Goyle?" Draco asked, standing up and glaring at his friends with a mix of annoyance and confusion. "What are you two doing?"

"We stole some sweets from the kitchen," Goyle shrugged, oblivious to the tension in the room.

"Want one?" Crabbe offered, holding out a chocolate frog. Draco shook his head, his attention shifting back to Eleanor, whose face was beet red.

"I really need to go to bed," was all she managed to say before rushing off to the girls' dormitory, her heart still pounding in her chest.

Crabbe and Goyle, too busy stuffing sweets into their mouths, didn't question why Draco was alone with Eleanor so late at night.

———

Eleanor lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling. Her mind raced, replaying the events of the evening over and over. Why did Draco Malfoy make her feel this way? She had always seen him as an arrogant, entitled prat, but now... now there was something different. Something that made her heart race and her thoughts spiral out of control.

She turned over, pulling the covers tightly around her. She had never felt this way about anyone before, especially not Draco. It was confusing, and a little terrifying. She hated him only a few weeks ago. Yet, when he looked at her with those intense grey eyes, she couldn't help but feel drawn to him.

Meanwhile, Draco sat back down with Crabbe and Goyle, who were still munching on their stolen sweets. He barely registered their chatter, his mind elsewhere. He had been so close to kissing Eleanor again, and the thought sent a thrill through him. What was it about her that made him feel this way? He was supposed to despise her, yet he couldn't deny the attraction he felt.

He glanced over at Crabbe and Goyle, who were now arguing over the last pumpkin pasty. Normally, he would have joined in or made some snide remark, but tonight he felt distant, detached. His thoughts kept drifting back to Eleanor, to the way her eyes had softened when she spoke, the way her lips had trembled ever so slightly when he touched her.

Draco sighed, leaning back in his chair. He knew he was in trouble, but he had no idea what to do about it.

As Crabbe and Goyle continued their argument, Draco's mind remained on Eleanor, the girl who was turning his world upside down without even trying. And he couldn't help but wonder what the future held for them, if anything at all.

———

Eleanor was woken up early one morning by the head girl, a few days before Christmas break was supposed to start. She was startled, gasping awake, her eyes wide as she stared at the older girl beside her bed.

"Professor McGonagall has requested you meet her outside the Common Room at once," the head girl whispered, trying not to wake any more of the fifth-year girls.

Daphne and a few other girls stirred, wondering what the commotion was about. Eleanor stood up, in a haze, shoving her feet into her slippers and pulling her sweater over her head.

"El? What's going on?" Daphne asked, sitting up from her bed.

Eleanor snatched her wand from her bedside table, just in case this was some kind of setup. "I have no idea," Eleanor shrugged.

"I'll come with you," the blonde girl said, though the head girl disapproved, glaring at Daphne.

"Other students are to remain in their dorms. It's past curfew," she said before stalking out of the room. Eleanor smiled at Daphne before exiting her dorm and heading out of the Common Room to find Professor McGonagall waiting for her by the door.

"What's this all about, Professor?" Eleanor asked once she joined her.

"Follow me," McGonagall said, her tone grave.

"Don't panic, Miss Weasley," McGonagall said as they walked. "Your father was attacked at work."

"Fucking hell," Eleanor whispered, her heart pounding at the words.

Entering the room, Eleanor saw Professor McGonagall move to stand behind a rather freaked out and sweaty Harry Potter. Dumbledore stood at the front, his back to Harry, while the Weasley siblings were huddled together, worry etched on their faces.

Eleanor joined her family, and Ginny immediately reached out for her older sister's hand. Eleanor offered a comforting squeeze, though she was worried herself.

"In the dream, were you standing next to the victim or looking down at the scene?" Dumbledore asked Harry.

"Neither. It was like I..." Harry panted, confused. "Will you please just tell me what's happening?" he practically begged.

"Everard, Arthur's on guard duty tonight," Dumbledore muttered to a nearby portrait. "Make sure he's found by the right people." He moved across the room to another portrait.

"Sir," Harry said, his voice shaky. Eleanor pursed her lips, feeling awful for Harry.

"Phineas. You must go to your portrait at Grimmauld Place. Tell them that Arthur Weasley is gravely injured and his children will be arriving there soon by Portkey."

"They've got him, Albus. It was close, but they think he'll make it," Everard said once he returned. The Weasleys all looked at one another in relief that their father was alive.

"Oh, thank goodness—" Dumbledore was cut off by Harry.

"Look at me!" Harry yelled, startling everyone. "What's happening to me?"

"You wished to see me, Headmaster?" Professor Snape's voice rang throughout the room.

"Oh, Severus. I'm afraid we can't wait. Not even till the morning," Dumbledore said. "Otherwise, we'll all be vulnerable."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Eleanor asked, looking around at all her siblings, but none of them had an answer. Before Eleanor could ask any questions, they were being ushered towards a Portkey that would transport them home.

---

Eleanor spent the next few days at Grimmauld Place, anxiously awaiting her father's return from St. Mungo's. She wrote to Daphne, explaining what had happened.

By now, Hogwarts had officially finished for the Christmas holidays. Harry and Hermione had joined the Weasleys for Christmas break.

Arthur Weasley didn't return until Christmas Day, and everyone was overjoyed to see him. After presents were opened, it was time to eat.

"A Christmas toast," Arthur said, holding up his glass. "To Mr. Harry Potter, without whom I would not be here."

Everyone cheered and toasted their drinks before digging into their food.

Christmas had always been Eleanor's favorite time of the year. Her family was together, full of joy, putting aside their real-life problems for a few hours just to be together. Eleanor loved it; she loved her family.

So when the night ended, she felt rather upset, walking up the stairs to the room she shared with Ginny and Hermione for the duration of their stay.

But Eleanor couldn't sleep. After a few hours of tossing and turning, she decided to get up and grab something to drink, hoping it would put her mind at ease.

She tiptoed down the creaky stairs, carefully avoiding the squeaky floorboard at the bottom as she rounded the corner, heading for the kitchen.

Eleanor flicked on the light, gasping when she came face to face with Harry Potter, who was standing by the kitchen sink.

"Merlin, Harry," Eleanor said, her hand over her heart. "You scared me."

"Sorry," he muttered in reply.

Eleanor and Harry had never had much of a friendship. Though they had practically grown up together, they didn't have much to do with each other, especially once summer ended. Eleanor just assumed that Ron had poisoned Harry's perception of her.

Eleanor helped herself to a glass of tap water, awkwardly sipping on her drink as Harry stood idly by, drinking his own water.

"You know—"

"Harry, I—"

They both spoke at the same time. "You go first," Eleanor said, placing her glass on the bench and running her fingers through her unruly ginger hair.

Harry cleared his throat. "I was just going to say I'm sorry for Ron," Harry said. "Hermione and I don't think you're a bad person... We've been trying to talk some sense into him."

"Thanks, Harry," Eleanor smiled, brushing her sweaty palms against her pajamas. "That means a lot coming from you."

Harry nodded in response. "Did you want to say something?" he asked, urging her to continue from before.

"Just that, umm, I'm sorry," Eleanor said.

"For what?" He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to rack his brain for a reason Eleanor might have to apologize to him.

"I don't know... I guess for never really trying to be your friend," Eleanor shrugged. "I just didn't think you'd want anything to do with a Slytherin, given your history..."

Harry chuckled softly, though nothing was amusing. "You really don't have to apologize for that," Harry said. "You know, the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin, but I convinced it not to."

Eleanor's jaw dropped. "You're telling me I could have just told it no?"

Harry shrugged, smiling at the girl. "I did, so I suppose so."

Eleanor huffed. "So many years of my life that could have been different," she said, shaking her head. "You know, sometimes I wonder how different my life could have been if I was a Gryffindor."

"I mean, you and I could have been good friends," Eleanor said. "Everything could be different. Ron and I could be different, closer..."

Harry sighed. "Ron talks about it too. How easy things would be if you were a Gryffindor."

"I'm not evil... I just have Slytherin traits," Eleanor shrugged.

Harry laughed. "I know. I've seen your battles with Malfoy around Hogwarts."

Eleanor smiled at him, her mind spinning with thoughts of what could have been. How different her Hogwarts journey could have been if she were sorted into any other house. If sorted into Gryffindor, she could have been best friends with Hermione, still inseparable from Ron, or even attended the Yule Ball with Harry. If she were a Ravenclaw, she might have tagged along with the Golden Trio on their adventures, using her knowledge to save their skins. As a Hufflepuff, she might have had more friends, been more popular instead of feeling like an outcast.

But being a Slytherin had its perks. She wouldn't have met her best friend, Daphne. She wouldn't have had the adrenaline-pumping battles with Draco Malfoy. She wouldn't have almost kissed Draco Malfoy.

"Anyway, goodnight, Eleanor," Harry said, dumping his glass in the sink and leaving Eleanor to her thoughts of what could have been.

Eleanor stood there for a moment longer, staring at the spot where Harry had been. The night had given her much to think about, but one thing was clear: the past couldn't be changed. She could only move forward and make the best of what she had. With a sigh, she finished her water and headed back upstairs, her mind filled with dreams of a future yet unwritten.