Yay!! i got through wednesday really quickly. im really happy with this im glad that i got 2 more reviews for the last one. it was odd, considering that was my elast favorit chapter. lol.
this is still still a pretty short chapter, but not as much as the last one.

thank you to PhoenixFeatherQueens and Leonora for putting this one their favorite stories and alert. that is a compliment all on its own, since you wouldn't make an alert or make it one of your favorites if you didnt like it. double thanks to Leonora for taking the time to review ~ you did everything possible, and i really appreciate that! and another thank you to Christina who reviewed twice :D

ok, but enough of that ~ enjoy! :)

Wednesday

"Do it!" The cold voice pierces the air one more time. His heart slams against his chest. He knows what is going to happen, even before it does. Kate cringes in pain, but her eyes never look away from his. The white hand raises the wand, ready to perform the Killing Curse, a curse that the wand has performed many a times.

But there was no flash of light, just a swarm of dark, angry water. It swirls around the room, and Draco yelps as he is thrown under. He kicks his legs, desperate to find the surface. But the room is gone, and he is once again drowning in the ocean, the only thing in sight is a thick darkness and water. He kicks his legs, struggling to stay afloat.

But the water is spiteful, and a giant wave forms and Draco has time just to recognize that the wave looks strangely like a giant hand before he is shoved under once more. The black waters swirl around his head, tossing him deeper and deeper. Water fills his nose and ears, but some sense has remained with him. He fights panic, calming himself and thinking of what to do. Find the surface, he thinks. Find the surface. But even as he thinks this, he reaches another problem: he doesn't know where the surface is. He was pushed down farther, and the waves had turned him head over heels beneath the surface, causing him to lose the direction of the sky. Even beneath the water, there is only darkness, which grows neither lighter nor darker no matter in which direction he faces.

Panic grips him now, and he begins to kick his way to the right. His legs ache and his lungs are filled. He must break surface! There is just water and water everywhere he looks, and his lungs are ready to burst. He needs air, needs even a split second to gasp for breath! Draco is in full fledge panic as he twists and turns, frantically trying to break through the dark waters. Fear and panic are mounting now, and he can barely hold his breath much longer.

He involuntarily opens his mouth to gasp air that isn't there just as his hand breaks through. Water plunges into his mouth and throat, making him cough and retch as he kicks his legs to get his head above waters.

Draco looks around, searching for something. He wasn't quite sure what he was searching for, but he knows that when he spots it he will know it for what it is. It's as if a part of him knows what to do, where this terrifying journey is taking him. And then he spots it, and his searching is over! A strip of land stretches across the waters several yards away from him. He yearns for dry land, where he would not have to continue this desperate treading of water to stay alive. There, he knows he can relax; he can lay down and rest his head.

He didn't find it odd that the sun was shining upon the shore and not on the waters. His mind didn't seem to register how unusual it was that the land seemed pleasant and sunny, while the waters surrounding it were dark and devastating. He did find it odd, however, that he could spot a lone figure walking the edge of the sandy shore. Somehow, he is able to determine that it is female, and that it is oddly familiar. She faces the dark, angry waters, beckoning to him, her honey-brown hair blowing in the breeze, big eyes a warm brown and promising of better times.

Water fills his mouth, but he hears her calling him, inviting him to safety, to warmth, to better times…

"Draco!"

Draco's eyes snapped open, his heart still hammering. They barely had time to focus, but the pinch of panic that had still not left him retaliated to the face and dark eyes peering at him closely. He yelped, and sat up in a rush. This proved to be inefficient, as his head swarmed, blearing his eyesight. His heart was hammering the confines of his chest.

"Whoa, easy, mate. You were dead asleep. No one woke you for breakfast, but classes are due to start in less than ten minutes." Draco heard the voice, but his brain could not yet focus on the words, or their meaning. He blinked at the face looming over him. It was Theodore Nott, who face was composed, but whose eyes betrayed the concern and curiosity he really felt. Draco looked around, taking in his surroundings. He was in his four-poster bed, the green walls of their Slytherin dormitory free from even a drop of water. A thought dimly wondered where all the water went, but Draco immediately pushed it away as he realized that he had fallen into his nightmare again.

The same nightmare, with the same ending.

"Draco? You all right?" It's Theodore again, his voice hesitant. Draco blinks at him, struggling to compose his own features. His lungs still ache, and his legs are sore, as if he had been fighting the angry ocean.

"Fine," he croaked back. He swallowed and licked his dry lips. "I'm fine." He looked around the dormitory again, but he and Theodore were undeniably the only ones in the room. He must have appeared puzzled, because Theodore spoke an explanation.

"Everyone went up to the Great Hall. Not that they will be there anymore, there were only a handful of kids when I came back down here. You better get up and dressed fast." Theodore backed away, heading to his own four-poster, searching for something from beneath it. It was then that Draco realized that Theodore was already neatly dressed for class. He had already belted the dark blue pants with a matching belt; the white shirt, which was always left out until the very last minute, was neatly tucked in. Even the green and silver tie, which indicated the House of Slytherin, was already tied around his neck, underneath the collar of his shirt. He looked very fresh and prepped; a look that was never accomplished until the very start of class. If Theodore was already dressed as he was, then Draco did not have much time.

"How much time until class starts?" Draco asked aloud. Theodore straightened from beneath his bed, a battered textbook in his hands.

"Well, we had ten when I came up here."

"Fuck!" Draco swore under his breath, and threw off his comforter.

"I forgot the handbook for Arithmacy, that's why I came back up here. Glad I did. You have McGonagall this morning, don't you?" Draco nodded without looking at the boy, rummaging through his trunk and throwing all items pertaining to his uniform onto his four-poster.

"I would hurry if I were you. I overheard a third year saying that she and one of the Carrows had quite a nasty exchange of opinions – she won't be happy if you are late to class." He gave Draco a pointed look, stressing 'you' slightly. Draco looked back over his shoulder, not sure if he was going to say something nasty. He wasn't on very good terms with Theodore, not after everything with Kate and after the tall boy snubbed him yesterday during breakfast for no reason he could see. He didn't have to tolerate Theodore or anyone else reminding him that he was branded as a Death Eater, and for that most of the teachers had little respect for him. By the time he had worked his mind around what to retort, however, Theodore's back was already turned, heading out the dormitory. Draco sighed and swore angrily beneath his breath, before rushing into his clothes. He grabbed his bag, tossing out the Potions and Muggle Studies books and throwing in his Transfiguration and Charms books. He glanced through the compartments, double checking that he had parchment, ink and a quill. He could get by having no supplies in Slughorn's class, but McGonagall was never a lovey-dovey teacher, and was certainly not going to allow him to borrow anything from either herself or another student without taking away points from Slytherin.

Draco dashed out of the Slytherin common room and up several sets of stairs and corridors. The Transfiguration Corridor, thankfully, was on the north-east side of the castle, on the ground floor. This meant that Draco was not expected to run up nine floors and the length of the castle in five minutes. It was possible, Draco told himself, to be seated in class within five minutes - tight, but possible.

Missing breakfast for the second morning in a row, and another night of restless sleep proved to be very inadequate for focusing in class. All through Transfiguration, he found himself blinking excessively to keep his eyes from closing. He was also having a hard time concentrating on the spells they were currently performing.

They were transfiguring each other into animals. McGonagall had them paired up once more to transfigure the other into an ape, or - if you accomplished transforming your partner into an ape - a monkey. Draco had been paired up with Daphne Greengrass (after the row with Ernie Macmillan, she had not paired Draco with anyone other than a Slytherin). This was their second day practicing this exercise; it was more difficult than anyone had imagined, for McGonagall did not believe an "almost" achievement was worth any sort of praise. Apes were similar to humans in bone structure and intelligence, so it was the easiest animal to begin transfiguring humans; monkeys were slightly harder, only because they had a tail. The class before, Draco had been able to fully transfigure Daphne into an orangutan (she was not particularly thrilled about this, especially when Draco seemed to have difficulty transforming her back), and had earned Slytherin twenty points. He was expecting the same gratifying results today, but the presence of hunger and sleepiness was keeping him from succeeding.

"Draco," Daphne had hissed. "Pay attention! You're supposed to be transfiguring me, now. And aim, would you?" She added, as a streak of blue zoomed out of the tip of his wand and barely missed Professor McGonagall, whose lips pressed into a thin line as she peered sternly around the room, searching for the culprit. At the end of class, McGonagall commented on his low performance, and he walked out of the classroom tired, hungry, and his face pink with humility.

Charms had not gone any easier. Flitwick's high pitched squeak of a voice had been irritating and bothersome. It had hurt his ears, and during his lecture, Draco found himself slipping into sleep more than once. When it came to wand work, he encountered the same problem and low results he did in Transfiguration. Thankfully, Flitwick did not comment on his poor performance.

Lunch seemed to take forever to arrive. But it did, and Draco traipsed out the Charms classroom and followed the crowd of Hogwarts students down to the Great Hall. The dishes of various foods were already laid out across the long tables, and Draco hurried towards the Slytherin table at the left. Most of the teachers were already sitting at the high table in front of all the House tables. Because lunch was not a formal meal, they were already eating and socializing among themselves; except for Professor Snape, who was staring at the mass of students before him, looking much like a vampire with the strong contrast of his pale skin and long, black hair. Draco squeezed between a group of four Ravenclaw third-years, before finally reaching his table.

There were slices of several types of bread, an arrangement of fruits and vegetables, along with sliced cuts of cold meat and cheeses. Draco grabbed four slices of white bread, several slices of turkey and roasted ham, cheese, lettuce tomatoes and pepper. He stacked the meats, cheese and vegetables inside the slices of bread, making two even sandwiches. Merlin, he was starved! He took a huge bite of one before reaching for an apple.

He was halfway through his first sandwich when he caught Graham Pritchard staring at him. Draco stopped in mid-chew, gazing at the fourth-year. He had on a hard, determined expression, and when Draco did not look away, he craned his head to mutter something to his friend, Malcolm Baddock, who leaned forward to also stare at Draco. Feeling suddenly uneasy, Draco narrowed his eyes at the pair, and continued to chew, very slowly. It seemed however, that Graham Pritchard's ideas were not just for Malcolm Baddock's and Draco's ears. In a second, the whole group around the two fourth years was peering at the older, pale blonde Slytherin. Draco recognized Olivia Harper, Bran Alaric, Vega Bravu, and Avaline McFay. Draco turned away quickly, and groaned silently to himself. He did not want, or need, this at the moment. He had enough to deal with just taking care of himself, trying to forget about worrying about Kate, and making sure his parents were safe (Aunt Bella was more than capable of taking care of herself). He had his N.E.W.T.'s coming up, and needed to concentrate on passing them – not figuring out the problems of a bunch of fourteen- and fifteen-years-olds.

Draco kept his gaze down on his plate as he began his second sandwich, but he could still feel the six pairs of eyes focusing on him. He wolfed down the apple, then grabbed his bag and rushed across the Great Hall, deciding to escape the pointed stares by hiding out in the Slytherin common room.

Call him a coward, but at least the problem was solved.

Down in the common room, Draco was able to relax. It was empty, save for Fiona Kenworthy, a sixth year, who was dozing off on one of the black couches, and a pair of third-years who were spread out on the floor with a textbook in front of them. They seemed to be arguing, and Draco was just at the foot of the small set of stairs when he heard one of the third-years call him.

"Look, Delilah, he's a Prefect, he'll tell you I'm right. Hey, Malfoy!"

"What?" Draco snapped, whirling around, and was surprised that he had not hid his irritation so well. The third-year boy standing behind him, who Draco recognized as Tristan Zotovich, seemed to suddenly regret his decision to ask the blonde boy.

"Er…nothing, it's alright."

"No, it's just, long and tiresome morning, Zotovich. What do you want?" He asked again, more kindly this time. Delilah, the girl, had crept closer now, and was standing an arm's length away from Zotovich.

"We're doing our Potions homework. Delilah says a bezoar is a stone that comes from the stomach of a goat. But stones don't come from the stomach of any animal, they come from the ground."

"Not a bezoar." The girl muttered, and the boy threw her a foul look.

"Well, she's right. A bezoar is a stone, but it does come from the stomach of a goat. Don't ask me how, it just is." And he turned away before the boy could argue with him.

"Ha! Told you, Tristan! I told you it comes from a goat's stomach!" The girl cried in obvious glee.

"Oh, shut up, Delilah." He heard Zotovich grumble, before shutting out all sound by entering the dormitory he shared with other Slytherin seventh-year boys.

Draco threw his bag onto his bed, before sitting at the foot of it, rubbing his eyes hazily. It was Wednesday – he only had two more classes today. Thankfully, it was History of Magic and Muggle Studies. History of Magic was the dullest class, but also required the least amount of work, which meant that passing the O.W.L had been a breeze, as would – he hoped – passing the N.E.W.T. It was taught by Professor Binns, who was a ghost and had been teaching the same class since he had been alive, which Draco thought made a quite dull and pathetic way to spend the rest of you undead years. Binns was perhaps the most oblivious teacher. No one paid attention in his class, and he didn't appear to notice if his class was in uproar or all dozing off. Indeed, sometimes Draco wondered whether Binns noticed if any students attended his class at all. Since History of Magic was all lectures and no wand work, it was a period where Draco could finally just doze off and catch up on some needed sleep.

Muggles Studies, taught by Amycus Carrow, occupied the period right after History of Magic. While it used to be a class that was left up to the choice of the student on whether or not to take it, it was now forced upon all students now that the Carrows were in the school and Snape was Headmaster. Draco hated that class, but since it required no wand work, he was looking forward to it today.

With a heart just a degree lighter, he removed his Charms and Transfigurations books from his bag, replacing them with the huge History of Magic textbook, and his notebook for Muggle Studies. He threw in an extra quill, just in case, and then began to make his way to the fourth floor in the West Wing at a much slower pace than he had gone to Transfigurations this morning.

* * *

It was late, two hours after hours. Too late, even, for Prefects and the Head Boy and girl. Yet Draco sat in the corner of the common room, farthest away from the door. There was no fire, but since it was spring time, he was comfortable with just a thick jacket. All of his homework was started and finished, and he had even seen to all of his duties as a Prefect tonight, which was something he had not done for a long while.

His thoughts often wandered to the warm bed sitting empty upstairs. But he couldn't go to bed. Because if he went to bed, he would sleep; and if he slept, he would dream.

And she would be back.

Draco had not spoken or seen Kate at all. He hadn't even caught a whisper of her. He wasn't angry – not really, not anymore. Now, he just wanted them to be friends, to go back to the way they were before the row in the Owlery. He missed her; he didn't want to admit it, but it was true, and it was because he had lost her that he was no longer able to sleep peacefully. He knew now that unless he patched things up with her, he would continue to lose sleep. He never had much patience for Divination – load of dragon shit, in his opinion. They had done dream journals, had analyzed made-up dreams to the bone, and read chapter upon chapter of dreams and their meanings in class. It had always been a waste of time to him before.

But he knew that this had meaning. Because he knew it was her who was waiting on the shore, who was standing in the place of safety and warmth and sunshine. The two things he wanted most were safety and Kate. And he knew that he could have one only when he found the other.

So, the solution to the dilemma of the nightmare was quite obviously to find Kate and hope that she had missed him as much as he missed her. Then maybe he would not be forced to beg and plead for her forgiveness, for he wasn't sure his pride could take that.

But Draco was willing to deal with pride issues when the time called for it. Right now he had to deal with the issue of not knowing where to look for Kate, or even where to begin. He didn't even know if she was in the castle anymore! She may be back in England, hours away from where he was now, at Hogwarts. Or, the idea that kept shoving itself to the front of his mind, but he did not like to consider, was that she took the opportunity to fly as far from him as was possible: out of the castle, out of the country, out of the hemisphere.

The sound of soft footsteps broke him out of his sullen thoughts. With half interest, he watched the archway that lead to the boys' dormitories, certain that the footsteps had sounded from there. When no one emerged, Draco thought he must have imagined it.

But he hadn't. Just then, a dark figure crept from beneath the archway, carrying a bundle in his arms. Draco pressed himself in the corner, sitting quite still, as if hoping to blend right into the wall. He mused over the thought that his jacket and hood were dark, and therefore camouflaging his pale skin and blonde head. His contentment was short lived, however, when the figure stopped in the center of the common room, and Draco recognized him as Theodore Nott.

Time seemed to drag on and on as Draco silently watched Theodore place the bundle that had been in his arms onto the floor, and as it began to move towards the common room entrance, he followed it. It was a rabbit, though Draco could not make out its coloring due to the darkness. The darkness, however, could not disguise the change that occurred, or the hand that suddenly seized Draco around the chest and stomach. His insides churned, and the serpent within him hissed and coiled within him. In mid-hop, the rabbit transformed from a long-eared rabbit to a slender ermine. The ermine slipped out the common room, followed closely by Theodore Nott.

An ermine that Draco knew to be Kate.

The stone door slid closed after them. The soft thud seemed to awaken Draco from his glazed stance. The serpent within him snapped its jaws, angry again. How dare she? After everything he was going to do, after everything he was feeling. Just as he was starting to want her again, she came across with Nott. Draco stood up, glared at where she had just disappeared for a second longer, before making his way up to his dormitory. His heart was pounding with bitterness and anger, emotions that were sure to keep him up for the rest of the night.

Funny thing, life. Right when you start thinking you were wrong, and that perhaps it wasn't so unfair after all, it turns around and spits in your face.

so, what did you think? i had so much fun typing this! it just flowed. i've never written something so fast. i began typing at 3-ish, and its now going to be 6 in the evening in 7 minutes.

so read and review! hopefully you enjoy reading it as i enjoy writing it. :)