"I'm sorry, what." Theo's tone was eerily calm. It made Draco shiver.

"I-I'm breaking up with you, Theo," Draco said shakily.

Theo scoffed. "You'll do no such thing. You don't have the balls."

"It's done," said Draco, more firmly. "You lied to me, and then you hit me."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Draco? I love you."

Draco shook his head back and forth. "No. You don't."

"Yes. Yes, I do."

"No, you don't!"

Draco yelled so loudly that the force of his magic caused the curtains on Theo's bed to ripple. He was instantly brought back to the first time they'd . . . had sex? Made love? Draco wasn't sure the other had ever loved him, if he was so easily able to look him in the eye and lie that he loved him.

Theo put his hands up in a calming motion. "Hey, easy . . ."

"Don't you dare," growled Draco, taking a step closer to the other boy. Theo backed away. "You chose drugs over me, you chose Callahan over me. Tell me the truth. You owe me that much. Did you sleep with him?"

Theo faltered, lowering his hands. He stepped forward until hardly any space remained between him and Draco.

"Yes," he said quietly.

"How many times?"

"Three."

"And did you enjoy it?"

Theo looked ashamed. "I . . . Yes."

Draco felt his own face tighten up. "I see."

"Wait, Draco, please can we just-"

"No," said Draco, strangled.

"Draco, I swear I was only doing it for the drugs, I don't have any feelings for him-"

"That doesn't change the fact that you cheated," Draco said. "And I already made it quite clear to you I wanted nothing to do with those drugs. You bought them for yourself, just admit it. None of this 'magical night' nonsense."

Theo sighed. "Fine. I wanted them for myself. Are you happy now?"

"Far from it," spat Draco. "I just dumped my boyfriend for cheating on me, lying to me, and slapping me."

Theo sighed. "Draco-"

"No. You lost your chance. You acted so aggressively when I found those, that it shows where your priorities are. Have fun shagging Callahan. I'm out."

Draco turned around and made to leave, but Theo wasn't done with him yet.

"Don't you dare walk away from me," the brunette growled, yanking Draco by his wrist and turning him back around with such force that Draco nearly collapsed.

"Let go of me," Draco demanded, pulling his arm back, but Theo was stronger.

"No. I'm not letting this relationship go without a fight."

"Please," pleaded Draco, "just let me go."

"I told you I was sorry already, what more do you want from me?"

"It's over, Theo!"

Theo let go of Draco's wrist in shock.

"It's over," Draco repeated.

Before Theo could respond, Blaise, Greg and Pansy barged into the room.

"What the hell was that all about?" Blaise asked them, then his gaze flitted from the pair of them to the pills clutched in Theo's hand. His dark eyes widened.

"You didn't throw those away?"

Blaise's voice was low. And dangerous.

"Why'd you follow us up here?" Theo asked.

"Because you've been acting dodgy," said Greg. "And now I know why."

"Draco," said Theo, pleading, placing his full attention on the blonde, "you need to know I didn't mean any of it. I love you. So much. Please. Don't leave me."

Draco would not break down and cry in front of all these people, even if they were his friends, so he straightened his posture and slipped on his best mask.

"Too late," he said frostily. "I've already left. Take the drugs, keep sleeping with Callahan for all I give a fuck, you lying arse."

Pansy gasped audibly. "You slept with Callahan?"

"What the fuck, Theo?" Blaise exclaimed.

"How dare you!" Theo yelled, lunging for Draco, but Blaise and Greg stepped forward to protect him.

"Don't you lay one fucking finger on him," Greg growled.

Draco tentatively raised a hand to his still-throbbing face, which didn't go unnoticed by Pansy.

"What's wrong?" she asked him, much to his alarm. He shook his head at her, but she persisted. "Why's your face red on one side? Did he-" Pansy rounded on Theo, hands balled into little fists. "Did you hit him?"

"O-Only because he was about to steal my drugs!" Theo looked panicked, like he was quickly losing his grip on the situation.

"What the fuck?" exclaimed Greg.

"I don't care what he did, you don't do that to people," Blaise said.

"He wasn't going to steal your drugs, you toerag!" shrieked Pansy. "He was trying to help you. But you wouldn't have noticed, considering you have your head shoved so far up your arse I can see your hairline behind your eyes."

Draco didn't know if he could handle seeing all his friends sticking up for him against the boy he'd been in a relationship with. It overwhelmed him. And now that he had the chance to look back, he realized that his relationship with Theo was far from healthy. Had Theo only seen him in a sexual light? That was how their relationship had started off, after all . . .

"I'm sorry," was all Theo said. "I'm so sorry."

"If you're really sorry, you'll throw these away," said Pansy.

"I can't throw them away!" exclaimed Theo, sounding pleading. "I dunno what I'll do without them. I need them to be happy."

"That's just it; you don't. There are so many other ways to be happy, you don't need a pill for that."

"You didn't take them. You don't know what they're like."

"They've changed you, and that's enough to make me want to stay far away from them," said Blaise. "Look at what you did to him. You hit him!"

Theo's eyes landed on Draco. "I'm sorry," he said again. "You know I love you, and you know why I did what I did."

"I'm not sure I believe you," said Draco, voice wet. "I'm sorry, but this is over."

"Don't you dare apologize," said Pansy. "He abused you."

When it appeared that Theo was no longer an immediate physical threat to Draco, Blaise and Greg stepped aside. Theo, unfortunately, took that opportunity to step forward and take Draco's hands in his. Draco tensed under his grip.

"L-Let go of me."

"Draco, please. I'm so sorry. I can't lose you. I just can't." He leaned forward and rested his forehead against Draco's. Draco wanted to be sick.

"I'm sorry," Draco said again, unsure of what else to say.

"Stop apologizing to him," came Pansy's scolding, though it sounded like it was coming from far away.

"Draco, did you leave him that hickey?" Blaise asked him. Theo moved away from him, though he still held on tightly to his hands.

"N-No."

Blaise rounded on Theo. "Sounds like you rather enjoyed cheating on him,"

Pansy snarled. "You let go of him right now!"

Startled, Theo obeyed. Draco, shaking, backed away into Pansy's waiting arms, who held him fiercely.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," she told him in hushed tones. Draco drew in a shuddering breath, willing himself to believe her.

"I cannot believe you," she continued to Theo, grip on Draco tightening. "Was hitting him not enough?"

"I only did it for the drugs," said Theo. "I didn't enjoy it."

"You liar," Draco seethed, pointing a shaking hand at his ex. "You told me you liked it. Was he better than me? Huh?"

"It doesn't matter what that prat thinks of you," Pansy whispered in his ear, and Draco wanted so badly to believe her, but there was a part of him that he thought always would care.

"You know what?" Theo cried. "Fuck this. As a matter of fact, he was."

Draco tensed up. Don't feel don't feel don't feel-

"Probably because he's slept with half the castle," mused Greg. "Sounds like you're perfect for each other."

"I don't have to take this," Theo said, bending down to pick up his book bag and throwing the drugs inside.

"Go ahead, report me, see if I care. I'm going to take the remainder of my stash tonight so that there will be no proof."

"Theo, no, that's dangerous!" Draco couldn't help but exclaim.

Theo narrowed his eyes at him. "And you care why . . .?"

"Merlin's beard, Theo, just because I broke up with you doesn't mean I don't care about you. Could you stop being a prat and think for a second?"

Theo's eyes widened.

"He's still in shock," said Pansy, rubbing Draco's back up and down. "He doesn't know what he's saying. Of course he doesn't care about you, you self entitled git."

"We won't say anything, please, just don't do that," pleaded Draco. Theo could overdose, and die, and even though he'd treated Draco horribly Draco didn't want any more deaths on his hands.

"You're acting insane," said Greg. "Just give us the drugs, Theo."

"No! Absolutely not."

"Then I guess we have no choice but to-"

Greg's speech was cut off when Theo reached into his bag, yanked out the baggie of pills, and pulled the four capsules out of the bag.

"I swear to Merlin I'll swallow them all dry right fucking now."

Greg gulped.

"What's your endgame, here?" Pansy asked him. "What do you think is going to come out of this? Do you think any place will hire you with a drug habit? Not to mention once we graduate Hogwarts, you won't see Callahan again. How are you going to get your fix then, huh? Have you thought further ahead than the current day?"

Theo froze.

"I don't . . . That's not-"

"Is it really worth pushing everyone out of your life?" Pansy continued.

Theo suddenly looked at the pills as though they'd grown heads. He stuffed them hurriedly back inside the baggie, then shoved the baggie back into his book bag.

"I-I'm sorry-"

"Save it," Pansy spat. "I think you need some time to stew, and considering how we turned our backs on Draco when he needed us the most, for you, it will be quite some time before at least I'm ready to talk to you again."

"Second that," said Greg.

Blaise looked conflicted. Theo was his best mate; this put him in a conflicting position. Draco wouldn't be offended if Blaise took Theo's side. But to his dismay, Blaise turned toward Theo, folded his arms and said, "Third."

"Fine!" exploded Theo. "I have better company to surround myself with."

"Company that uses you for sexual favors, yeah, sounds like great friends. You should introduce us," Greg said sarcastically.

Theo sneered at him before throwing his book bag over his shoulder aggressively and stalking out of the room.

All three of them turned their attention to Draco, who had watched the events play out in utter shock.

"Draco, are you alright?" Pansy asked quietly.

Draco nodded, though his head felt like it was underwater. He didn't even have the energy to tell Pansy that he wasn't made of glass.

"It's okay, mate," said Greg. "He won't hurt you anymore. I'll make fucking sure of it."

The stinging was back. Draco blinked heavily to get rid of it.

"Can I just- I mean, it's your room, too, you can stay here, but I just want to rest in my bed and forget this ever happened," he said.

"Come here, sweetie," Pansy coaxed, pulling him into a fierce embrace. Draco gripped her with trembling hands. His eyes stung harder.

"It's going to be okay now," she whispered.

"I'm f-fine, he didn't even hit me that hard," he protested.

Pansy pulled back, studying him. "It doesn't matter how hard he hit you, Draco. He hit you."

"I just . . . I dunno, did I make the right choice? In leaving him? H-He loved me-"

"He did not love you," Pansy told him hotly. "You understand me? The way he treated you was the antithesis of love."

"Look at you, using your big words," Draco teased.

Pansy huffed. "Please tell me you're not reconsidering?"

Draco sighed. "I'm not."

"Okay, good. I'll let you be for now, then."

"Mate, we're right here if you ever wanna talk," said Greg. "Just say the word, and we'll listen."

Draco nodded. "Thank you."

Pansy left the room, and Blaise and Greg gathered their things to go to the common room. Draco really hadn't meant to kick them out, but he needed his space, and he was grateful they understood.

"You did what?"

Ron, Hermione and Harry were gathered by the fire. It was a chilly October evening, so Harry wore a sweater beneath his robes and it was barely enough to keep himself warm.

Ron's exclamation had somewhat distracted him from the warmth of the fire.

"I visited him," said Harry, as though it were no big deal. And honestly, why did it have to be? What was with the third degree?

"Why?" Ron exclaimed. "It's bad enough you didn't just leave the ferret behind when you found him, but to take him yourself and then go back for him? Blimey, Harry, it's almost as though you care."

Ron was hitting a little too close to home, and it made Harry uncomfortable. He wasn't sure how to process all these feelings about caring for the Slytherin boy, but they weren't going away. That much was obvious.

"What's it to you if I do?" Harry asked, and realized only after the words were spoken that he was walking on wafer thin ice.

Ron scoffed. "Are you taking the piss?"

"No, I'm just genuinely curious why it's such a problem that I helped him out."

"Because it isn't safe, Harry," interjected Hermione. "He may not be up to anything, but he's still Malfoy. He's a bully, and he used to work for Voldemort."

Harry didn't know how to tell his friends that he wasn't sure how much of the Voldemort stuff was even Malfoy's fault. His father had certainly drilled certain principles in him, right?

"He hasn't bullied us all year," he settled on.

Ron's eyes widened. "Are you defending him?"

"Well, it's true," said Harry. "If anything, he seems . . . ill. He's got bags around his eyes all the time, and he keeps his head down when he walks."

"I'm concerned you notice all this," said Ron point-blank.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "This is nothing new."

Harry rounded on her. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, come on, Harry. Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. You've been obsessed with him ever since sixth year, if not earlier."

"He was trying to let Death Eaters into the school," Harry replied crossly, "in case you forgot. And I was right about it."

"That's exactly why you need to stay far away from him," said Ron. "He's nothing but trouble."

"He's changed, Ron," said Harry, unsure why he was still defending him, but seeing him helpless on the staircase, and crying in the bathroom, had released some trigger of sympathy in him, and his bullet was flying at lightning speed.

"What do you mean, he's changed?" asked a flabbergasted Ron. "What's going on with you, Harry? Are you feeling well?"

"I'm fine," Harry said tersely. "I just want to remind you guys that he did try to apologize. And you turned him away."

"I'm sorry if one weak apology isn't going to make up for seven years of insults and bullying!" exclaimed Ron. "If he's truly sorry, he'll stop insulting us every chance he gets and stop strutting about as though he owns the place."

"But he doesn't," protested Harry. "Tell me honestly, Ron, when was the last time you saw Malfoy pick on somebody? Or strut? He doesn't smile anymore, he looks like a corpse of his former self."

"The only way you'd know all this is if you were watching him," commented Hermione unhelpfully, and oh, but Harry wanted to strangle her for her unwanted insight!

"I'm not watching him," defended Harry. "Anyone with eyes can see that he's clearly struggling with something. He doesn't look or act like himself, and in the few times I've talked to him, he's seemed withdrawn and almost . . . scared."

"How was he when you went to see him in the hospital?" Hermione asked quietly.

"He was . . . downright miserable, Hermione. He was in utter denial that anyone, even me, could have wanted to help him."

"Surely he was just shocked it was you," she reasoned. "You were probably the last person he was expecting to see at his bedside."

"That may be so," said Harry, "but is it that hard for him to believe that people care whether he lives or dies? Whether he's hurt or happy?"

"Are you saying you care?" Ron asked incredulously.

"No," said Harry carefully. "I'm saying that he deserves a second chance, and nobody here is willing to give him one because of his Mark."

"Incase you're forgetting," said Ron scathingly, "I'll remind you. Bill has permanent scar damage because of that bastard. Fred is dead. His aunt killed your godfather-"

"Don't bring Sirius into this," Harry said hotly.

"He's not a good person, Harry, and he deserves any and all bullying. It serves him right, considering how he's treated us these past seven years."

"Did we not just fight a war that was supposed to end all this prejudice and hate?" asked Harry. "What was the point in putting our lives on the line and fighting if everyone's just going to make presumptions and hate on other people?"

"What's presumptuous about 'Malfoy was a Death Eater, and he tortured people for fun'?"

"You don't understand," said Harry. "He had to. You know, he told me that they made him torture his own mother."

He knew that wasn't his information to share, but he needed Ron and Hermione to understand.

Hermione stared at him, mouth agape. "What?"

"Don't sound so surprised," Ron told her. "They're a bunch of sick fucks; of course they did."

"You think Malfoy liked that?" Harry pressed.

"Well, n-no, but-"

"Do you think he liked torturing innocent Muggleborns?" asked Harry.

"Honestly, yeah," answered Ron.

"How can you say that?" exclaimed Harry.

"Erm, because he calls Hermione a Mudblood every waking chance he gets?"

"He apologized for it, Ron. What more do you want from him?"

That floored him.

"Why are you being so defensive over him?"

That floored Harry.

"I . . ."

"You take every opportunity you can get to stick up for him, to follow him around. Why?"

"I don't-"

"And if you really felt so strongly about the way we rejected his half-arsed apology, you could've spoken up. But you didn't."

Harry couldn't argue with him there.

"I'm not obsessed with him, or always defending him. I just think he's a regular person just like everybody else who deserves to be treated as such."

"But he hurt people," said Hermione. "He hurt people and enjoyed it."

"I'm beginning to think he didn't," said Harry. "The way he carries himself around now . . . it's like he's wracked with guilt. I just want . . . I just want someone to show him that he's worthy of forgiveness."

Ron's eyes were wide as saucers.

"You think he's worthy of forgiveness? You think that git, that absolute prick, is worthy of forgiveness?"

"Why not?" Harry turned the question around on Ron. "Give me one good reason why he isn't."

"One?" scoffed Ron in disbelief. "I can give you a million."

"I'm sick of hearing you guys fight over this," said Hermione wearily. "Malfoy's a bully, and he may have tried to apologize but that doesn't erase seven years of bad behavior. That's all there is to it."

"I never said it did," said Harry. "I know more than anybody you can't change the past- my parents are gone. But you can move forward and change the future."

"Are you really suggesting that git's capable of moving forward and acting like a normal human being?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded. "I think he already has."

Hermione's eyes were wide. "You can't be serious-"

"He apologized, Hermione. Since when does Malfoy apologize?"

"Well, that was out of character," Hermione admitted. "But-"

"And since when does he let people beat him up?" Harry continued. "He was unconscious when I found him. He may not be the bulkiest bloke around, but surely he can hold his own- why didn't he?"

"Maybe he finally realized he deserved every punch," Ron said maliciously.

"Don't joke about that," said Harry. "He needs help, and no one else sees it."

"What are you going to do? Waste your entire eighth year helping him?" Ron asked, sounding nothing short of disgusted.

"If that's what it takes to get him to see that he's worthy of forgiveness, then maybe I will."

"Harry, you're being ridiculous," said Hermione.

Harry narrowed his eyes at her. "What happened to not criticizing me because I'll do what I want anyway?"

Hermione sighed. "I know you're going to do what you want; that's just the problem."

"And why you want to help that git is beyond me," said Ron.

"Maybe I just want to show him that he doesn't have to suffer anymore! Is that really so bad?" asked Harry, thoroughly fed up now.

"Maybe he deserves to suffer," growled Ron, leering over him. "He basically maimed Bill. Fred's gone because of him."

"I'm not sure why he let Death Eaters into the school, but I'm going to take a wild guess and say that the choice was completely out of his hands," said Harry. "Voldemort-"

Ron and Hermione flinched at the name- "didn't give his followers much of a choice in anything. And if anyone would know, it was me. I was the one who saw into him."

Ron and Hermione looked at a loss for words. Finally, Hermione spoke.

"I won't tell you what to do, Harry. Just . . . Be careful, yeah?"

"You don't know what you're talking about," Harry said hotly. "You didn't see him lying there in that hospital bed, white as a sheet. He couldn't hurt a fly."

"Maybe not while he's injured," said Ron. "But he's all fixed up now, isn't he? What's he gonna do now? Continue to terrorize the first years? Bully anyone who isn't a Pureblood?"

"He's not that person anymore," continued Harry. "I just know it."

"Let's hope for your sake you're right," said Hermione.

Harry sighed, knowing he wasn't going to get anywhere with his friends on this. They fell into a comfortable silence again, working on homework and pretending as though Harry hadn't brought the blonde up at all.