Chapter One: Friday 27th of September 1996

Draco pushed his way through a mass of people; being hit by elbows and breasts, cursing these idiots for not knowing that a Malfoy deserves a privileged path. He parted two Ravenclaws like the red sea and came up to breathe. He didn't stop to see what was happening, it had been going on for two days now; and naturally - because by now it is natural - all this was connected to Harry sodding Potter. He had not saved the world, yet again; he had not entered a competition, again; he hadn't even done anything worth a bottom mention in the Daily Profit. Oh no. This time he was just ill. The bloody baffoon was top notch gossip because he had the sniffles.

Draco glanced at the Gryffindor table as he finally reached the door; he could only see the golden boy's mass of hair over the girls' heads; but Draco knew what he looked like.

Saint Potter indeed was not at his best - did he even have a best ? - he seemed tired especially. Tired in a way Draco had never seen him before. He had gone Malfoy pale and his shoulders hung low. Draco shrugged internally at this and walked away.

He immediately went up to the seventh floor, no hesitation. He stopped in front of the wall and just stayed there. He took a deep breath and paced three times in front of it. A massif oak door appeared in front of him and he went in. The room looked like storage, it was packed with this that and a lot of the other. Draco hardly looked at any of it. He directly walked to a cabinet that he had found stacked in the back only a few days prior. It was the same that he had seen in Knockturn Alley. He didn't know where to start. So he didn't.

""""""""

He went to History of Magic a few floors down and he knew he was running late. He'd just walk in through the blackboard, Professor Binns wouldn't even notice. He stopped at a corner when he heard voices.

"What is wrong?" A voice that clearly belonged to Draco's favourite mudblood asked sternly.

"Honestly Hermione, I'm just tired" Draco rolled his eyes as he recognized Potter's voice.

"This is not just being tired Harry" She added. Golden boy sighed loudly.

"Well it is if I tell you, just drop it"

Even Draco was surprised by the words and he could only hazard to guess that Granger indeed dropped it. He waited till they left to enter class himself. He was right to suppose that Professor Binns would not notice, too absorbed he was by historical facts - or by not being dead, Draco's mind supplied. The Slytherin watched Potter dose off to sleep in class, followed closely by the rest of the students. It didn't surprise Draco, as he was feeling the fatigue too; but he did see the difference between a tired sleep and a bored sleep.

That evening, even Slytherin common room was fascinated by Potter's general condition. The girls especially discussed it. Draco hardly reacted to this, he was busy reading a book called "Magical Artifacts"; he had transfigured the cover to make it look like a potions book. He was force fed the topic though when Pansy asked him:

"What do you think of it?" Draco sent her a bored side glance before continuing.

"I think that Potter is just a stupid sod who can't use a glamour and that this topic is boring" He answered, never faltering his reading. They understood that leaving him alone is best. He continued brushing up on his knowledge with one eye on the book and one ear to the girls. Blaise slid next to him, muttering about gossip girls; he perused through the Slytherin mail as self proclaimed snooper. At some point he said:

"Hey Dray you got a scented letter" Draco sighed.

"That's my fourth this month" He replied "Lisa Turpin. She's that Ravenclaw beater. She's had the hots for me since third year, or so she says"

At this Pansy stopped her Potter talking and turned a keen ear to the boys.

"She's hot" Blaise immediately interjected "Why don't you do her? Judging by your tensyness,I suppose you haven't gotten laid in a while"

Pansy scooted closer, hoping, he supposed, to get a piece of his desperate dick.

"My sex life is of no concern to you" He answered calmly "But I will mention that I am not desperate enough to screw the first arrival. Unlike some"

"I like to stay busy" Blaise shrugged "Seriously though, have you gone asexual or what?"

Draco closed his book, ready to leave because peace in the common room was nigh on impossible to find.

"Excuse my brain for not thinking of sex so" He replied and stood up "But I am little preoccupied with the war and you-know-who camping in my bedroom. Maybe you forgot"

He turned in true Snape Fashion and retreated to the boy's dormitory. He was by himself but closed the curtains round his bed nevertheless. He took his top off and threw it next to his trunk on the floor. On second thoughts he picked it up and put it on the trunk. As he rolled his sleeves up he saw the Dark Mark still fresh upon his right arm. It felt alien to him. It was a black and devious trace on his white unblemished skin; it didn't fit. It wasn't meant to be there and all those involved knew it all too well.

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Sometime the next day Draco felt pissed. He looked around him at the brainless groupies who were questioning Weasel to know the whereabouts of their idol. It was Saturday and though it was not odd that Potter was absent at breakfast it was unusual to not find him at lunch. Considering his yester-state they all worried that he had died. Draco was not worried; the Golden boy fails at everything, and especially at dying.

Later that same day he once more heard two thirds of the dream team; he was getting tired of everything being about them or him; but of course he stopped to listen - to have inside information.

"He's been in bed all day, I don't know what's up" Weasley sighed.

"He went out last night, what time did he get back?" Granger asked with an aggravated tone. There was a small pause before Weasel added:

"Euh… I don't really know. I fell asleep early"

"Honestly, Ronald!"

Draco rolled his eyes at this. He wondered if when Weasley jerked off to Hermione he heard his mother sometimes. They stormed away and Draco could proceed calmly to his destination. As a prefect he knew where the four houses slept; he knew that this was lion territory. And he overheard Granger talking to the fat lady.

"He didn't" The portrait replied to something "He returned only this morning, woke me from my beauty sleep he did"

This Draco considered odd; but he hadn't the time. He went to the room of Requirements and onto his cabinet. He opened it and transfigured a passing book into a screw driver. He had heard that magical artefacts were very sensible to magic so he first had to repair this by hand. What a demeaning job.

On his way back he saw the man of the day clambering out of the portrait door. Draco hardly recognized him. This was indeed more than just being tired. He tripped over his own feet as he practically crawled to lord knows where. Some part of Draco would have followed but he refused to become a part of this; he would not fall for Potter and his fucking attention grabbing.

I do not own Harry Potter nor do I make a profit out of this. I do this for myself and for my pleasure. Soooo a new story! I hope you like it and please tell what you think! I might be a bit slower on this one then I was with live free or let me die. But I'll do one or two chapters a week at least! The idea comes from Anyankaellie thanks again!