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The characters and universe in this work are property of J.K Rowling.

Draco Malfoy was having what was possibly the best dream ever when a shouting match woke him from his deep sleep. He had been leaning against Gregory, feeling braver than he ever had in his entire life, and he was asking him for a kiss. But then Gregory was pulling away – a ridiculous gentlemanly move that had Dream Draco swooning and Reality Draco rolling his eyes – and telling him that he was too drunk and should go to bed. Unless… no, that couldn't possibly be it. There was no way that had actually happened, because Dream Gregory had been very adamant about how he wanted to kiss him, and it was nearly impossible that Reality Gregory would ever say those words to him.

Nearly…

Draco squashed his longing subconscious, and instead opened his eyes to clear the fog from his mind. Filled with deep regret only moments later as the sunlight seemed to pierce directly through his eyes and into his brain, he dragged the blanket over his head and gave a great groan. The shouting, now escalated into screaming and the occasional shattering of objects, grew louder as the door was opened. Draco felt prepped to kill at the chuckle the perpetrator gave, but did not come out from under his shelter.

"I see you're handling your hangover well?"

Of course it was Harry, the smug git. Draco could think of no one more perfect to take his hangover out on. This was his fault, after all.

"Piss off," Draco snarled back, muffled slightly by the covers. "My head is killing me."

"Then I've got just the thing for you, my grumpy friend. Come out from under there now, drink up."

Peering out from under the blanket, Draco glared at Harry. The Gryffindor was looking far too pleased with himself, and infuriatingly not hungover. He was holding out a phial of something orange in his stupid hands, and if Draco's head weren't pounding so badly, he was sure he'd be able to figure out what it was. As that wasn't an option open to him at the moment, he was helpless to do much else but ask.

"You expect me to just toss that back without knowing what it is?"

"Wouldn't be the first time." Harry laughed loudly, and Draco's head felt like it had been struck by lightning. "You got a bit wild after the game ended. I could hardly keep up with you and all the drinks you threw back."

"Spare me the details of last night, and tell me what that is before I hex you."

"Invigoration Draught. 'Mione whipped up a bunch while you were napping yesterday. Looks like they're being put to very good use."

Draco took the bottle without further complaint when Harry held it out to him once more and pulled out the stopper before tipping it back. He gagged as it hit his tongue, and almost spit it up before managing to get it down. Harry was laughing at him again, but as Draco's symptoms began fading, he found he didn't mind so much.

"Right foul, isn't it?" Draco mused.

"Well, I suppose it can't taste good, can it? Too many people would just never sleep if it did. Feeling better now?"

"Immensely. Want to tell me what's going on downstairs? It woke me up."

Harry's face lit up and a grin pulled up the corners of his mouth as he sat himself down on the end of Draco's bed.

"Oi, no shoes!" Draco complained when Harry pulled his feet up with him.

"Do you want to hear the story or not?" he chided, but slid his shoes off anyway.

"I had no idea you were such a keen gossip, Harry! No wonder you and McGonagall get on so well, eh?"

"Shut it and listen, or so help me, I will leave!"

Draco rolled his eyes, but made a show of zipping his lips. Upon Harry's disbelieving stare, he took it a step further, locking them and throwing away the key.

"Now that's settled… it was pretty obvious that a lot of people were wasted last night, but some of them had already been partying before they even showed up."

Nodding idly, Draco could not see how this had anything to do with the fighting downstairs.

"So, you remember how Pavarti and Ernie were all over each other last night?"

"Ugh, don't remind me. They were being so gross after the game ended! I couldn't tell where one of them started and the other stopped when they were dancing with each other."

"That's just the thing! They weren't dancing!" Harry exclaimed, looking near ready to burst.

"What do you mean? I saw her lead him out of the room, it was definitely them."

"No, Draco! You saw Ernie, but that wasn't Pavarti that you saw. It was Padma."

"You shut up!" Draco gasped, eyes wide. "She did not! To her own sister?"

"She did! I suppose it didn't help that they came as Siamese cats – can you really blame Ernie?"

"Yes?" Draco scoffed. "What sort of idiot can't tell the difference between his girlfriend and her twin sister? It's really not that hard if you know them well enough, which one should expect from their bloody boyfriend. So, is that them I'm hearing? I'm sure Pavarti is tearing into Macmillan."

"That's where you'll be disappointed, then. Ernie's getting off scot-free. It's Padma and Pavarti that are going at it now. The common room's a mess. People are trying to console Pavarti and calm her down, but as I was coming up the stairs, I saw her try to jinx Padma. I'd be careful going down there if I were you."

"What happened to start it up today?"

"I heard from the Great Hall that Pavarti walked in on them asleep in the bed together and started shouting straight off the bat. Padma had just enough time to cover herself up before Pavarti pulled her out into the common room by her hair. It took three Beaters to pull her off Padma, and then two more to keep Padma from getting back at her."

Draco blew out a breath and shook his head slowly. Girls were crazy, in his opinion, and he was quite glad that he had never found them that attractive. Seemed as though they were more trouble than they were worth.

"What time is it, anyway?" Draco mused, stretching over to his bedside table to get at his pocket watch.

The clock face read 2:45, and Draco rubbed thoughtfully at his brow. He'd missed lunch, but he was sure that he could last until dinner. That was when he looked up and saw the plate of food sitting on the top of the table. When had that gotten there? Harry must have brought it up with him, but Draco couldn't remember seeing it in his hands.

"Oh, thanks for the plate. That was thoughtful of you."

"That wasn't me. I'm just the man with the hangover cure," Harry answered with a shrug.

"Strange. Who's it from then?"

A scrap of parchment fluttered down from the plate as he pulled it onto his lap, and Draco got his answer. Gregory had written him a short note in his sloppy scrawl, and even though there was nothing remotely romantic to it, his rebellious heart still skipped a beat. That dream was affecting him far too much, and Draco knew that he could not afford to let these feelings become his new normal. If he lost Gregory over something as silly as his fanciful emotions, Draco would never forgive himself.

"So?" Harry asked, and Draco realized he'd forgotten his friend was there.

"It's just from Gregory. He told me to eat everything he left here, and that it would make me feel better." Suddenly feeling strange about sharing that with Harry, Draco changed the subject. "Do you know where Hermione is? I told her I'd study with her today once I woke up."

"I haven't seen much of her, but I'd assume if she's studying, she's in the library. Not like she'd be able to concentrate much here."

"True. Thank you for the draught, Harry." Draco turned a smile on him. "It helped a lot."

"You're welcome. I figure I better get out of here before you rope me into this studying business. Greg's right though, you should definitely eat all that. Water is your friend today too," Harry said lightly as he pushed himself to his feet. "I'm off to brave the common room once more. I think I'll head down to the pitch with Ron for a while."

"Be brave, Harry. They can't hurt you as long as you don't look them in the eye."

Harry laughed and pulled the door shut behind him, leaving Draco alone to collect his thoughts. Where was Gregory then? Maybe he was avoiding him? No, that was a silly thought. There was no way Gregory could know about his dream, therefore he would have no reason to avoid him. Unless Draco had done something else embarrassing last night. He needed to find Hermione, and fast, but first, he had a plate of food calling his name.

…

As Hermione was exactly where he thought she would be, Draco had no difficulty finding her. Her bushy hair was just barely visible over the large stacks of books piled in front of her, and Draco could tell from her furious muttering that she was concentrating hard on the parchment before her. The feather tip of the quill tickled her lips as she wrote quickly, but if it bothered her in the slightest, she gave no sign. Draco stood there for another moment as she finished up, knowing fully well that interrupting her now she was in the zone would be the end of him. When she finally put her quill down, he cleared his throat and stepped closer to the table.

Hermione's eyes flew up to his face, and her shoulders dropped, the tension seeming to drain from her body, as a smile pushed its way onto her face. Draco, as he had done a lot lately, marvelled at the realization that this was his life now. He'd never thought this would ever happen to him. Never in his life had he even vaguely suspected that one day Hermione Granger could smile at him, like she was glad for his company. But there she was, her toothy grin warming his heart as he pulled out a chair and set his bag down by the table.

"Thank goodness you're here, Draco. I'm completely swamped. Can you look over my rough draft for Arithmancy? I'm pretty sure it's terrible."

Hermione shook the parchment a bit to quickly dry any wet ink and passed it off to Draco's waiting hands. He was itching to ask her about last night, so he bent over the essay without complaint, trying to reach the point quicker. Reading through it with a keen, but quick eye, he found only two grammatical errors, and handed it back to her.

"It looks fine. I've just fixed your commas there, and there," he said as he pointed to the spots. "Everything else is great."

"Oh, thank you, Draco. You really are a great help. It's so nice to have a friend who cares about his assignments for once. Now, if you could just–"

"Actually, Hermione, before we continue studying, is there something you could do for me?"

Hermione's head popped up from the book she was about to bury herself in in a manner similar to a whack-a-mole, a delightful game the muggle he'd met that summer showed him. It was almost enough to make Draco laugh, but the questions he had burning in his brain kept the mirth subdued. She gave him an apologetic smile and made a gesture with her hands.

"Of course! Look at me, blabbing away. What do you need, Draco?"

Pausing briefly, Draco suddenly asked himself if he even wanted to know the extent of what he'd done. Would it be too embarrassing to bear, or had he managed to keep his cool despite his inebriation? Then, Draco reminded himself that if he thought he could continue without knowing he wouldn't have felt the urgent need to ask.

"How much of last night do you remember?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, her lips twisting into a puzzled frown.

"I mean, did I, you know-?" Draco struggled for the words to the exact question he wanted to ask. "Did I do anything foolish, or embarrassing?"

"Oh." One of Hermione's hands flew up to cover the mischievous smile that appeared there, and Draco could tell that she was trying to suppress a giggle. He grimaced, but she reached across the table to take his hand. "I wouldn't call what you did foolish, or embarrassing, but you certainly were having fun. It was a good look on you, Draco, you should do it more often."

"You're one to talk!" Draco cried, and earned himself a glare from Madam Pince. Lowering his voice, he continued, "You were looser than I've ever seen you! I'm just glad that you and Weasley spared us from a public show. If I ever saw Weasley that way, I'd have to rip my own eyes out and destroy them."

"Well, we may have kept to ourselves, but you certainly didn't," she answered, flashing him a knowing smile.

"What do you mean?" Draco demanded.

What had he done? Who saw it? How detrimental would this all be to his reputation?

"I really shouldn't tell you this…"

"Granger, I swear if you don't tell me I'll-"

"I'm only joking! You were just dancing."

Draco hated the way she raised her eyebrows suggestively. It left a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"What kind of dancing? With who?"

"Harry!"

Letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, Draco relaxed into his seat.

"Only Harry? Come on, Hermione, you were making it sound way worse than that."

"Well, you danced with me too, but you weren't clinging to me the way you were clinging to him."

"What are you talking about? I was drunk, it's no wonder I couldn't stand up straight."

Hermione held her hands up in surrender, but did not remove the coy look from her face.

"Be that as it may, I'm only stating facts. And the facts are that you and Harry were pressed up against each other and swaying to the music."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Apparently you thought so last night, too, because pretty soon after that you threw up on his shoes and ran for the bin."

Draco groaned and slowly sank until his forehead was pressed against the table.

"Please, tell me I didn't."

"You did, my friend. Neville was almost in the splash zone because he helped you to it."

"I can't ever look either of them in the eye again."

"Oh, calm down. You're being dramatic; both of them were nearly as drunk as you were. They were mostly just concerned for you, but Gregory gave you a spot of Pepper-Up Potion to keep you from puking again and carried you off to your dorm. Most everyone was gone by then anyway. It was just us and two or three others."

"Speaking of Gregory," Draco began as he lifted his head. He tried desperately to keep the hope out of his voice. "Did I have any particularly strange encounters with him?"

Hermione pursed her lips, and Draco could see her mind working to think back. She eventually shrugged and shook her head.

"I don't know, Draco. The only times I saw you together were during the game, and when he left with you. You could have embarrassed yourself after that, but I certainly wouldn't know about it. I'm sorry."

"Ah, don't be. Have you seen him though? Gregory, I mean? He left some food on a plate for me, but didn't say where he'd be today."

"I'm afraid I haven't, Draco. He did mention something to me yesterday about extra potions lessons, but I don't know when he was supposed to take them."

Draco swallowed his disappointment as quickly as he could, and gave Hermione his most convincing smile.

"That's alright. Now, what are we on to next? Ancient Runes, or Potions?"

…

When Draco left the library, the sun was sinking behind the hills. It cast an eerie shadow on the corridor, and he was beginning to regret not leaving when Hermione had earlier. He clutched his bag a little closer to him and steeled his nerves, shutting the library door confidently and starting off. Paranoia rising higher the longer it took him to reach the end, Draco began walking faster and faster until he had almost broken into a run. He ran into a figure rounding the corner, an audible thud sounding through the hall as bodies collided.

Draco fell to the floor, his bag slipping off his shoulder and the stranger's books thunking to the ground in front of him. The wind knocked out of him, Draco wheezed out an apology and pushed himself up to see the other person in better light. Theodore Nott's pinched face was focused toward the floor as he looked for his books, a sneer on his lips and surprise in his eyes.

"Watch it, would you?"

"Sorry, Nott. It was an accident."

"Malfoy? Didn't realize it was you." He didn't sound apologetic or hostile, but this neutrality didn't surprise Draco in the least.

"Here, let me help you," Draco murmured as he stacked Nott's books up.

Nott held Draco's bag out to him once he had finished with the books, and Draco shouldered it easily. Once there was no more work to be done, an awkward silence fell between them. Draco and Nott had never been close friends. Nott was content to be left to his own devices for the most part, but he'd always hung out with Draco, Pansy, and Zabini when it came time to make Potter miserable. Now that Draco thought about it, he was pretty sure the last time he and Nott had even spoken was the end of Fifth year. Before his entire life had changed.

Nott never followed in his father's footsteps, and Draco had never had reason to put his confidence in the other before. It was no surprise they'd lost touch, but knowing this did not make their encounter any less uncomfortable, especially not when Draco remembered what Zabini had said about what Nott thought about him. Overcome with the desire to just get out of there, Draco gave his old friend a half smile.

"Haven't seen you around much. I hope you're well."

"I am," Nott answered with a tone that was impersonal, but polite.

"Well, then." Draco paused, nodding toward the way Nott had come. "I better be going. Good luck with your," he glanced over at the books in Nott's arms, and the other boy adjusted his arms to cover their titles. "Studying."

Nott simply gave him a nod, and Draco walked as briskly as he could without seeming like he was running away. As his stomach was audibly growling, Draco swung by the dining hall to grab something to eat before he escaped back up to his dorm. He paused outside of the door as he heard raised voices coming from within, a frown pulling at his mouth.

"It's gone, Ron! I haven't seen it all day."

"Relax, mate, to anyone else it's just a dodgy piece of parchment that tells bad jokes. No one here knows about the map but you, me, and 'Mione. It'll turn up."

"And if it doesn't? McGonagall would kill me if she knew I had such a dangerous thing and left it lying around. Surely I didn't take it to the party? Merlin, it could have been in the pocket of those pants-"

Draco decided that he had heard quite enough, enough to feel bad for eavesdropping, and made a show of tramping up the last few stairs. Harry and Weasley fell quiet by the time Draco pushed open their door.

"Hi, Draco, how was your day?"

"Just fine. Hermione and I-"

"That's great to hear. Hey, Ron, remember that important thing I was telling you about at dinner?"

"Are you off your rocker? What are you talking about?"

Draco didn't have to be watching them closely to know that Harry was hitting Weasley. He rolled his eyes at their blatant secrecy but didn't care enough to dig for an answer.

"Oh, right, the thing we have to do. Yeah, I remember. Let's, uh, let's go do that thing."

"Well, bye, Draco! See you later!"

With that train wreck of an excuse done with, Draco was finally alone, and able to sprawl out on his bed. He reached into his bag for a book, and frowned when he realized it wasn't at the top. Digging deeper in, his fingers closed around an envelope and his blood ran cold. Hands trembling as badly as they had on the day of his trial, he slowly pulled the letter out and laid it on his bed, his wand following shortly. He prodded at the envelope with it, racking his head for any charms he could use to detect a hidden curse. Finding the envelope to be clean, he slipped the parchment out and unfolded it. What he found there made him sick to his stomach.

Malfoy-

Did you enjoy the surprise I sent you in my last letter? I thought you might. Felt like it would be a good...touch. Don't worry, there's nothing in this one. I just wanted to give you a little reminder as to who's really in control here. I'd say you're getting off easy with the Dragon Poison – you should be bosom buddies with the dementors right about now. I've been keeping a close eye on you, Malfoy. I was there last night, and I saw you watching Goyle all night long. Maybe no one else knows your dirty secret, but I do. And if you don't want it getting out, you'll follow my instructions in my next letter very carefully.

I'll be watching.

There was no possible way this blackmailer knew about that. No one knew about his feelings for Gregory – he hadn't told a single soul. He couldn't even remember looking at Gregory outside of that stupid game, let alone watching him for a prolonged length of time. Then again, according to Hermione, there was a lot he couldn't remember from the party last night. How did this person manage to slip the letter into his bag? It hadn't left his side but for the few minutes he had set it on the floor in the library, and even then, no one had come down their aisle. There were so many pieces of this puzzle that Draco just didn't know – couldn't see. One thing Draco did know was that this had to stop. He was sick of looking over his shoulder walking down an empty corridor. His nerves couldn't take another mysterious letter like this.

When the next one came, Draco would put an end to this.