It was dark when Draco left the hospital wing. After much persuasion, he'd convinced Madam Pomfrey to let him leave late, hoping to slip into the dormitory without being noticed. Except when the time came to go back to the dungeons Snape turned up to escort him, apparently, because it was after hours. He fought the urge to roll his eyes. He was a sixth-year for Merlin's sake. Mercifully the walk back was quiet, too quiet. Draco had expected Snape to start hounding him with questions when they were alone again but he didn't say a single thing along their way. So when the older wizard stopped short of the entrance to the Slytherin common room and said they had to talk, he wasn't at all surprised. It was him after all who had once told Draco, after his disappointing performance dueling Potter, that he should lull his enemies into a false sense of security, and then strike.

"Yes, Professor?"

Snape looked at him with a blank expression. "It concerns Miss Parkinson. I understood she recently got into a quarrel with Daphne Greengrass. I was told you were there when it occurred. What exactly were they arguing about?"

Draco raised a brow. Why the hell would he want to know that?

"Um, nothing important, something about Cormac McLaggen, Sir."

"Oh?" Snape hummed in thought and Draco realized he was waiting for more.

"Daphne said that he'd asked her out over holidays. She got angry when Pansy told her that she'd seen him snogging Granger a few days earlier at Slughorn's party."

Snape grimaced. "I see," he said. "I was simply… curious." Then with a flourish of his robes, he turned the corner leaving Draco alone. He sighed in relief, thanking Merlin that he hadn't tried Legilimency on him again. Whispering the password, he entered the common room. He expected everyone to be fast asleep by now but as he stepped inside he immediately saw both Blaise and Theo sitting near the fireplace.

Fuck.

Theo stood up quickly, glaring at him. "What the hell were you thinking trying to cut it out?" he hissed. Draco clenched his jaw wondering why he'd ever thought Zabini would keep his mouth shut. He looked at the tall Slytherin accusingly and Theo caught the exchange erupting in a surge of anger.

"What, did you really expect him not to tell me why you were in the hospital wing?" he yelled in disbelief. "Have you lost your fucking mind—"

"How many times do I have to clarify that what I do is none of your business, Nott!"

"Fellows, fellows," said Blaise raising his hands. "Let's all just—"

"NO!" bellowed Theo. "He almost got himself killed, and I bet it's over that fucking Mudblood!"

In an instant, Draco had his wand drawn, pointed at Theo. "Get out of my face."

But the lanky boy was laughing, shaking his head as if he'd just heard something amusing. "Look at you," he sniggered. "What… are you the only one who gets to call her that? Is it some sick little fantasy Draco, that you play in your head—"

"Shut up!"

"You going to fuck everything up for a little skirt?" he taunted.

Draco was holding his wand so tightly in his fist that he thought it'd snap.

Blaise who had been watching the exchange in stunned silence, suddenly barked, "Nott, that's enough!"

"Huh?" Theo continued. "Are you a Mudblood lover?"

"I SAID THAT'S ENOUGH!" Blaise yelled shoving Theo. "What the fuck is your problem!"

"My problem," he gritted out, "is that he's going to get his mother killed—"

Suddenly there was a flash and Theo vaulted across the Slytherin common room. He crashed against the stone wall and fell onto the floor in a crumpled heap.

"Fuck!" Blaise cursed, running over to him.

A few third year Slytherins were emerging from their dormitory, still half asleep, having heard the commotion. They stirred awake as they noticed Theo lying crumpled on the floor.

Draco stood stolidly. "He fell," he said eyeing each and every one of them. "Get back into your fucking beds." They scuttled off looking terrified.

"Merlin Draco," Blaise murmured kneeling beside their friend. "He's out cold!"

"Good."

"He's just worried about you —"

"I don't care," Draco clipped. "I'm going to bed. When he comes to, give him a warning—if he brings up any of this, or mentions my mother again, it'll be the Cruciatus curse."

Pursing his lips, Blaise bowed his head.

Draco descended the stairs to the dormitory. He felt exhausted right down to his bones. He climbed into bed, pulling the curtains around and fell into a deep, troubled sleep.

The next couple of days seemed to Draco, as though, he was sleepwalking. He and Theo weren't speaking and he found spending time with Blaise and Pansy uncomfortable. It had little to do with them and more to do with his own frame of mind; he was a walking rain cloud. When he tried to rest Theo's words would drift back to him in his sleep, he dreamt of his mother being Avada-ed or subjected to the Cruciatus curse and when he tried to eat he imagined what it would be like to be eaten alive by that disgusting snake. In the meantime, Potter seemed to be staring at him, growing more aggravating by the day, so not only did he have to contend with the possibility of the Dark Lord killing him or his mother, but he had to contend with Scarhead, which made everything infinitely harder.

And then there was her and the things they'd done to each other… they'd hurt each other. He didn't know why he believed things could be any different between them. Part of him knew he couldn't really blame her, and yet the logic of it didn't matter. He hated her for what she did.

It didn't matter anyway.

Draco resigned himself to his fate. That night he snuck out to the Room of Hidden Things. Each step heavy with dread, like he was walking the gallows. As he uncovered the Vanishing Cabinet he felt the noose around his neck tighten. Then he set to work trying to repair it. Later he returned to the dungeons, unsuccessful but determined to return the next night, and the night after, and every night after that, until he'd found a way to let the Death Eaters in.

By the fourth night, Draco was growing wary again. He could barely string a sentence together let alone figure out how to fix the Vanishing Cabinet. His mother had sent a letter through Nix warning him that the Dark Lord was growing impatient. He'd made absolutely no progress and the two glasses of Firewhiskey had done little to soothe the ever-mounting panic he found himself drowning in. Unconsciously he realized he'd been rubbing the material over his left forearm, a dreadful terror seizing him. He stepped back from the cabinet and leaned against an old table.

It can't be done, he thought, it's hopeless.

The defeat was crippling. He felt so alone.

Taking the gold coin from his pocket he brushed his thumb against the surface. Hermione's last message was still engraved there.

I'm so sorry.

He swallowed. His thumb brushed the surface again and he considered replying, but as soon as the thought crossed his mind it was followed by the memory of what she'd done.

The entire room was filled with the scent of gardenias…

Draco flew into an uncontrollable rage and flung the coin across the large room.

…it was in your hair. You were covered in it…

EXPULSO!

…spent the last three years falling in love with you…

CONFRINGO!

He imagined her recounting everything to Potter and Weasley, having a laugh, at his expense and then he was blowing up everything in sight, the room filling with dust as objects flew, shattering into pieces. He rounded on the Vanishing Cabinet his wand raised desperately wanting to destroy the cursed thing. His hand shook with rising ire, but he knew to obliterate it would be like cutting off his own arm.

"REDUCTO!" he screamed, whirling around. The spell hit a cupboard, practically reducing it to ash and the objects which had been sitting atop of it came crashing to the floor.

Draco was almost panting from the exertion. He stood amidst the wreckage and looked around to find it fitting considering what his life had become. His gaze drifted down to a stone bust of a wizard, who was now unrecognizable because it lay in pieces. Then something caught his eye. His curiosity piqued and he bent down to pick it up.

It was a crown of some sorts, a real girly-looking thing, and yet… he was fairly certain that he'd seen it somewhere before like it was familiar. He placed it on top of a rickety old table trying to trigger the memory but he was drawing a blank. The alcohol and his tantrum had made him sleepy and he realized he'd better go to bed if he was going to survive classes tomorrow. Walking through the ruin he left the Room of Hidden Things.

Draco yawned as he reached the stone wall and muttered the password. He removed the disillusionment charm and made his way through the dimly light common room. He stopped short when he saw Tracey Davis sitting quietly on the couch plaiting her hair.

"Hey," he said awkwardly as she caught sight of him.

She smiled with a glint in her eye. "Sneaking out, Draco?"

He shrugged.

Tracey let out a soft laugh. "Who is she?" she asked.

Draco's brows furrowed considering the girl in front of him and he wondered what she knew.

"Don't play coy," she said biting her lip. "Someone like you… you won't be alone for long."

Draco scoffed, sliding his hands into his pockets.

"What are you doing up?" he asked, trying to change the topic.

She smirked at him and whispered, "Maybe I snuck out too." He clenched his jaw not understanding entirely where she was going with this but before he could figure it out she was standing up. "Well, I'm off to bed," she said flicking the long braid off her shoulder and walking past him. "Goodnight." Then suddenly she leaned in and pecked him on the cheek. He was taken aback and looked at her questioningly. She giggled at his dumbstruck expression and walked off.

Shaking his head, Draco decided that all girls were a little mad.

The Slytherin table was overflowing with food but it was quickly being depleted by Goyle and Crabbe's fast consumption of it. Watching the two, he considered whether it was sitting near them, rather than the threat of death, that killed his appetite. Draco had made sure to always sit with his back to the Gryffindor table. It worked to avoid looking at Hermione but it also gave him limited seating choice and he wished for once he'd just taken the empty seat next to Bulstrode.

"Slow down," he grimaced. "You'll get indigestion eating that way."

"In-die-what?" asked Goyle.

"Nevermind…"

He got up deciding that he'd seen enough of their appalling table manners. As he walked out into the corridor, he raised his head and caught the Ravenclaw girl that he'd seen with Theo that night walking towards him.

Just what in the world was she wearing?

"Hello," she smiled. Draco decided that she looked far too happy for his liking.

He sneered at her. "Bugger off Lovegood."

"I just thought I'd see how you are," she sung. "See I told Neville about the Willows, they must've gotten to you."

"The what?"

"Oh," she sighed. "I thought you knew. I found a nest of them near the Greenhouse. They're particularly harmful if you inhale them."

His eyes widened. She really was barmy.

"Sure," he deadpanned. "But I only sniffed a few."

She looked off dreamily with a faraway smile. "Did you end up helping Hermione finish?"

He blinked. "Excuse me?"

"The Arithmancy project—"

"Oh. Right. Yes. It's over and done."

She was humming in thought and the way she was looking at him unnerved him.

"What?" he snapped.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Opening them she said, "You smell like flowers."

Draco frowned not knowing why he was standing around talking to this insane witch. If anyone caught him he'd never hear the end of it. He made to leave and she didn't stop him.

Groaning he remembered that he had a Charms essay he hadn't yet started on which was due tomorrow. He headed straight to the library realizing he had no time to waste. He scattered his things across a table and read through the essay hastily. There were several books that he could look through, so he went in search of them. He had been skimming the shelf for a particular book when he finally spotted it. Pulling it out he began leafing through it, but couldn't seem to find what he was looking for. He caught a movement in his peripheral view and glanced up from the page.

His stomach lurched.

Hermione was a few steps away from him, wringing her hands.

Draco slid the book back into place and strode past her swiftly. He hid in another aisle. He couldn't stand to be anywhere near her.

So, why he waited for her to emerge and followed her to where she was sitting, he'd never know. He supposed he just wanted to watch her for a little while. It had been so long since he'd allowed himself to look at her and it was much easier to do it without having her stare back. He only did so a minute or two because miraculously, after all these years, Weasley had finally managed to find the library. Frowning at the sight of the red-head pulling a chair up near her, he returned to his table.

After an hour or so he'd completed most of his essay. He put down his quill rubbing his face to stay awake. There was no chance of him going to the Room of Hidden things after this, he was already falling asleep. He raised his arms stretching his back out and put them behind his head in a relaxed pose. Leaning back in his chair he considered giving up on the essay and accepting detention instead. Just then a voice called out.

"Hi Draco," said Tracey flicking her long blonde hair.

He gave her a small smile as she sat down next to him taking out her things.

"'Kay if I sit next to you?" she asked.

Draco gestured to the seat finding it funny that she'd already sat down anyway, but what did he care?

She leaned into him and said, "You've been quiet these days… but quiet is good. You used to talk too much anyway."

His eyes snapped to hers about to retaliate but he quickly realized she was teasing him. Tracey had a small smile on her lips. She flicked her hair again and he watched as it slowly fell back over her face.

"Did I?" he asked.

She made an Mm-hmm sound.

Draco bit the inside of his cheek. Just what was going on here, was she flirting with him?

"What are you working on?" she asked leaning to peer at his parchment. He explained that he had yet to complete his charms essay and that he was practically falling asleep on top of it. Surprisingly, Tracey offered to help him but he declined. They sat together till the library was closing and the next day Draco handed in a subpar essay. At least it was something.

It came to him the next time he saw Lovegood like he'd been hit with a ton of bricks. He was just thinking it was quite ironic that she'd been sorted into Ravenclaw, what with her head not being screwed on right. Then he realized, with clarity, where he'd seen that funny crown thing before. In the Ravenclaw common room.

Immediately Draco nudged Blaise who was seated next to him in the Great Hall.

"Need to ask you something after lunch," he said.

Pansy leaned in and asked, "What is it?"

Draco shrugged and said it was a Quidditch thing. She immediately lost interest. He felt a little bad for lying but knew he couldn't bring this up in front of her. Blaise would kill him with his bare hands.

"What is it?" he asked once they'd left.

"Remember when I snuck into the Ravenclaw common room with you in Fifth year, when you went to see Padma Patil?"

Blaise looked around frantically as though a team of Aurors had just descended on him.

"Calm down!" snapped Draco. "No one's listening."

The Slytherin turned his dark eyes to his. "I told you to never tell a single soul!"

"I haven't, but I wanted to ask you something."

"Not here," said Blaise fearfully. "She has eyes and ears everywhere."

"You're like a bloody Pygmy Puff with her! If she had eyes and ears everywhere she'd have found out about Ginny We—"

Blaise cast a silencing charm and was staring at Draco with a deadly expression. "Take that to the grave Malfoy."

Rolling his eyes, Draco took out his own wand and released himself from the spell.

"There's a statue in the Ravenclaw common room of Rowena Ravenclaw, the big one, do you remember it?"

Blaise squinted his eyes in thought. "Yeah…"

"She's wearing a crown or something—"

"Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem."

Draco was taken aback.

"How do you know?" he asked.

Blaise gave a little shrug and smirked, "Cho told me."

Draco was shaking his head. "You're sick you know that? You have a problem."

"Don't tell Pansy!" he said suddenly anxious again. "It was before we got together, she doesn't need to know these things."

Shaking his head, Draco began to walk off.

"Wait," his friend called out. "Where are you going?"

"To the library."

He had a free period and he was going read up on anything he could find about Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem.