Draco

His fourth year at Hogwarts should have been a triumph, but Draco Malfoy felt like a ghost within his own walls. The Slytherin common room, once reeking of victory and superiority, now smelled of rotten ambition. His world had narrowed to two: silent Goyle and caustic Nott. They were his anchor, the only ones with whom he could not be Malfoy. Just Draco.

And today he waited for them by the extinguished fireplace, but they entered with loud laughter in the company of seniors. Their glances slid over him with absolute, murderous indifference. An icy wave covered him completely. They abandoned him. They simply stopped noticing him.

He went out into the corridor, trying to keep his posture, and only in a remote corner, hitting his fist on the cold stone, did he allow himself a stifled groan. Loneliness enveloped him, heavy and sticky.

At that moment, a burst of laughter was heard from around the corner. Your laughter. You were surrounded by Gryffindors, you were discussing something heatedly.

A new, caustic wave washed over him - envy. You were everything he couldn't be. Easy, loved, his own. You didn't have that gnawing emptiness inside.

And he stood in a cold corner with bloody knuckles, no friends and no idea who he was now.

"Why is everything so easy for her?" flashed through his head, and it was the most bitter thought of all. Suddenly he heard footsteps.