Better Be Slytherin
XXXI
Sectumsempra

The following few weeks ended April and saw May arrive, in unusually sunny days. Draco felt as if the weather wanted to taunt him for how poorly his task was going. He was incredibly stressed once more and had not been able to actually go out in the nice weather, he had only seen the sun through class room windows and the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall. The dungeons were still dark and cold, and he spent most of his time in the Come-and-go-Room anyway, now that he had secured Pansy from being taken by someone else.

On his way to Charms one Wednesday afternoon, Draco's thoughts of the Cabinet were interrupted by Pansy's high pitched giggle behind him. He was walking ahead of the others, and Pansy was behind him, entertaining the rest of the Slytherin sixth years, including even Crabbe and Goyle. He knew Pansy must be more entertaining than him nowadays, which was why his usually loyal companions had begun seeking other amicabilities.

Pansy was laughing louder than normally and he knew why – she had seen him with what looked like two blonde girls late last night when she was on Prefect Rounds and he had been heading back to the dungeons with the Poly-Juiced Crabbe and Goyle. When she had seen him from afar she had gaped. He had stopped walking, a nervousness creeping up the back of his neck. Crabbe and Goyle had clumsily stopped right after he did. Draco had just opened his mouth to defend himself or to explain that he wasn't with two girls and that it was just Crabbe and Goyle – which was quite the same thing – but she had given him a look that made his insides go cold from where they were staring at each other from two opposite ends of the corridor, and quickly she had turned around and he distantly heard her heels echo on the large staircase leading down towards the Entrance Hall. His heart had sunk.

Which was why it wasn't surprising when she approached him that evening in the dark common room, only lit by the few fireplaces. He'd been reading in the Defence against the Dark Arts book for the upcoming exam when she suddenly had appeared towering over him.

"We need to have a word," she said shortly. He found the entire situation laughable which was why he didn't feel too bothered about the anger written all over her face. He knew he'd remedy it quickly enough.

"I suppose we do," he responded casually and got up from the dark green sofa. He smiled as he followed her away because he knew, clearly, why she was angry and he had a perfect explanation. She didn't stop until she reached the staircase leading down to the sixth years' dormitories. Then she turned around to face him abruptly.

"I know why you're angry," he claimed wisely.

"Yeah?" she snapped at him. It didn't surprise him.

"Yes, and I can explain. Do you want to go inside my dormitor—"

"There's nothing to explain, I saw you!" she glared at him, suddenly explosive.

He let out a mirthful laughter, because it was so ridiculous, and she would soon know that as well. "That was Vince and Greg!"

She gaped at him incredulously, piercing him with an angry look that basically said: "don't even try"

"Pans...!" He moved closer to her with a small smile on his face, nowhere smirking or taunting. It only seemed to aggravate her for some reason, however.

"I saw you!" she repeated, now raising her voice. "I'd prefer it if you wouldn't lie straight to my face, Draco!"'

She was angry and wouldn't see reason. The last comment had been heard by a few people nearest them in the common room and he grabbed her arm to lead her down the staircase. She refused.

"Will you come down to my dormitory, please?" he told her, unusually patient.

"Are you joking? Why in Merlin's name would I do that? D'you think I'm stupid, do you?"

His smile disappeared. "Bloody hell, Pans, I'm not lying," he assured firmly in a loud tone, frowning at her. Why would she doubt him? He had a perfectly reasonable explanation to all of this... "That was Vince and Greg you saw me with last night, I just told you! Ask them!"

"You were with two blonde girls, you prat!"

Pansy was breathing heavily and she almost frightened him. Still, he had decided if he just convinced her of the truth everything would be all right. He'd never guessed she wouldn't believe him when he actually told the truth.

"No, I wasn't, honest, it's... you—"

"What?" she suddenly mocked, pulling her arm out of his grip. "You haven't got anything to say?"

"Of course I do, if you'll just listen to—"

"Then explain!" she exclaimed. "What is it that I'm too stupid to understand about you roaming the halls with your two new best girlfriends?!"

"I wasn't with any girls..."

Pansy gave an exasperated groan, "I can't believe you're lying to my sodding face," she rolled her eyes. "Did I not see you with two girls last night?"

"Yeah, but—"

"Yeah but, yeah but," she mimicked him tiredly. Suddenly, a clear hurt was visible on her face. Her comment, however, caught him off guard.

"Pans," he breathed, "You got nasty." He looked at her, surprised.

"Yeah, so?" she said coldly. She had caught him off guard and now he didn't know what to say. He reached out for her arm, admittedly slightly afraid she would run back to Theodore Nott again.

"No, Pans—"

"So that's what you've been doing," she interrupted him, "when I've been doing your prefect duties – hanging around with other girls! Sickest thing I've ever heard" she exaggerated, in his opinion.

His patience wore off and suddenly he snapped: "You think I've got time for girls? Are you stupid?"

She huffed, shocked, ignored him and moved towards the staircase down to the dormitories. "Sod off!" she spat out. He grabbed her arm.

"I'm speaking to you!"

"Well, I'm not fucking speaking to you! You're a sick, disgusting little boy!" She wriggled out of his grip and sent him a murderous look.

"Are you quite finished?" Draco spat at her, irritation growing rapidly.

"Quite definitely!"

"Since it's not really any of your business," Draco began in a chilly tone with a curl of his lip. However, she interrupted him fiercely.

"How dare you turn this around – you should be begging for my forgiveness right now!"

"I haven't done anything," he defended himself, "you're delusional!"

"You're pathetic," she muttered tiredly as she turned her back to him and walked down the staircase.

"You're pathetic, Pansy!" he shouted at once, his pulse fast. She hurried down the staircase and finally the door closed behind her. He looked away and snorted. Then he kicked a nearby armour hard – swore as the pain hit his foot, and then shouted "Expulso!" at it, making it explode at once.

Meanwhile as soon as Pansy arrived inside her dormitory she ran to her bed, yelled "Accio!" grabbed her diary and tore everything in it about him out from it and shredded it to pieces with her wand. Even the silly photograph of the two of them as well as Crabbe and Goyle at the Yule Ball leaning on her night-stand she ripped apart by hand. She let out an angry, childish cry and then lay down on her bed with her arms crossed. She decided to not speak to him for days. Although he, naturally, had no clue of all of this.


When Draco had received his task in the beginning of summer he had refused to believe it was the Dark Lord's way of revenging his father's mistakes at the Ministry. He had been excited, fascinated even at the prospect of showing himself off and proving his worth and loyalty. He'd seen it as a brilliant chance for him to become one of the Dark Lord's closest men. He was incredibly self-assured and knew he'd succeed in whatever was asked of him.

Lately, as he'd grown skinnier, paler and ill-looking he had begun to realise that perhaps all of this was the biggest mistake of his young life and that if he could redo it, he never would have got involved. The task had proven to be vastly more difficult than he'd ever imagined, and the undeniable fear of his parents being murdered was hanging over him constantly. How could his father even had joined from the beginning? How could he do this? How could he mess up at the Ministry – hadn't he realised the consequences? It was clearer than ever this was intended as revenge all along. Draco was never supposed to succeed! He was supposed to die trying. His patience had run out, as well as his ideas. He realised he was extremely afraid, and that he'd been very naive. He understood better now.

He hadn't appreciated the severity of the problem with the cabinet. Nothing worked. Whenever he put something in it, it had disappeared when he opened the door again. And from his letters to Borgin he understood that it hadn't appeared at the shop either. If only he could fix it... He could get all kinds of Death Eaters into Hogwarts through the cabinet, to back him up when he was supposed to kill Dumbledore. He'd gone through every book on complexed spellwork that existed within the library's walls, as well as the ones he'd ordered from Flourish & Blott's by owl. Nothing seemed to work. He was beginning to run out of ideas – the list of different possible ways of fixing it seemed to narrow by the day. Couldn't he just need it to be fixed – since he was in the Room of Requirement? He decided to try that the next time he was to enter the room.

The only thing that mildly encouraged him was the fact that Weasley was so nervous about the upcoming match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw that he had to rush to the nearest loo to be sick and every time Draco saw him he'd been as pale as the dead and nauseous-looking. There must be something seriously wrong with that bloke's nerves, he thought spitefully.


Crabbe was humming the Hogwarts school theme song in the common room, while Goyle was eating a big white cupcake. The icing spread all over his mouth and cheeks – it was positively revolting. Pansy narrowed her eyes and wrinkled her nose as she sat down disdainfully, and just as she did so Crabbe's humming trailed off.

"'Ello Pansy!" Goyle grunted merrily with his mouth full. "These new cupcakes are brilliant, d'you wan'o try one?"

"I'd rather not, thank you," Pansy snorted, glancing at the plate of cupcakes over various Spell books, parchments and quills spread all over the table, and then tried a different approach. "How are you, Greg? You well?" she smiled her sweetest smile to warm up Draco's friends. Although she would attack Crabbe next – she was sure Goyle knew even less than Crabbe. Crabbe was her key; he was the one she had to manipulate until he gave up his loyalty to Draco.

"I'm all righ' thanks, you?" he nodded greatly and kept stuffing his mouth. Crabbe glanced at them, apprehensive.

"Never better," Pansy beamed.

"Anything you wanted?" Crabbe spoke up for the first time, looking at her from his arm-chair, unusually suspicious. She turned to him and sent him a big smile.

"Oh, no just checking in on my friends..."

Crabbe actually rolled his eyes. The cheek, Pansy thought. "Your friends are over there," he scoffed, jerking his head towards the group of girls giggling over a copy of Witch Weekly at the other end of the dark green common room.

Obviously Crabbe wasn't as dumb today as he usually was, Pansy thought irritatedly. She decided not to give up her cheerful attitude, however – she would play sweet until they gave her what she wanted.

"Oh no, they're not my only friends!" Pansy giggled, but was interrupted by Crabbe before she could say anything else.

"Draco's not here."

Frustration took over and Pansy couldn't help but to roll her eyes. "I can see that, Vince."

"Neither's Nott," he went on.

"I'm not looking for either of them!" she defended herself quickly.

"Then what do you want?" he hissed at her, looking quite angry. Pansy grumbled.

"Actually I was just wondering about McGonagall's human transfiguration essay..."

"Wouldn't know anythin' about it." Crabbe's short tone had her understanding she was defeated. She wanted to sigh but held it in. She wouldn't show defeat. She retreated and thought of a new plan. A long time went by and the common room turned emptier and emptier as Pansy read in her Transfiguration book to pass time. Finally, three quarters of an hour had passed and then Pansy spoke again, as casually as she could.

"So whereabouts is Draco?"

Goyle dropped his book and looked startled. Crabbe sent her a murderous look.

"Not telling you," Crabbe hissed. Goyle looked between them. Pansy stared into Crabbe's eyes, a power battle breaking out. He averted his eyes first.

"Tell you what, mate," she then said. "We're at boarding school in Scotland. He can't have gone very far, can he..."

"Not telling you," Crabbe repeated, grunting. Pansy thought she saw a flicker of insecurity on his face. She almost had him.

"Well, he must be in the castle..." Pansy pondered out loud. Goyle squirmed in his chair. "Unless he's managed to sneak out to the grounds... However I doubt it, what with all the new security..."

Crabbe and Goyle both just stared at her. Pansy smiled.

"I saw him with two girls the other night. You lot wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Goyle glanced at Crabbe who nudged him and they both shook their heads, avoiding her eyes. Such obvious liars.

"What will it take for you to tell me the truth?" Pansy finally dropped her act and spoke forcefully, staring at Crabbe.

"Nuffin'" Crabbe grunted.

"Surely there's something you want?"

"Malfoy told me not to tell you."

"Yeah, I know that!" Pansy rolled her eyes. "But Malfoy's cheating on me! He's hanging about the castle with two blonde little girls! Surely you cannot stand behind something like that?"

Crabbe squirmed and he and Goyle glanced at each other.

"He's not cheatin' on you," Goyle began unsurely.

"Greg!" Crabbe bellowed suddenly, making a few nearby younger students jump. Pansy felt excitement build up and she stared at them with her eyes wide. They were close to breaking.

"I'm his girlfriend, I deserve to know." She wasn't sure playing to their emotions was a good idea, but she had to give it a go.

"Not our business to tell you," Crabbe grunted.

"I'll give you ten Chocolate Frogs every day for the rest of the term," she tried to persuade him.

"Take your bribery elsewhere, Parkinson," Crabbe scoffed. Pansy grimaced.

"Uhh... I wouldn't mind a few Chocolate Fr—"

"Stuff it, Greg!" Crabbe snarled.

"Just thought they migh' come in handy..." Goyle mumbled.

"What d'you want then, Crabbe?!" Pansy exclaimed. "Gold?"

"No..." he begun, avoiding to look at her, but she interrupted him.

"I'm a Prefect! I can report him to the Headmaster!"

"Malfoy's making us dress up as girls for fuck's sake!" Crabbe finally shouted, exasperated.

As soon as he realised what had just come out of his mouth he knew he couldn't take it back. His anger turned to fright as he hastily looked up at Pansy, whose eyes were widening while the corners of her mouth turning up in surprised satisfaction. Crabbe really was thick as pig-shit. He'd cracked.

"Vince!" Goyle shouted in agony as his hands flew to his face.

Crabbe stared back at her for what felt like a very long time.

Pansy eyes were glimmering with a small touch of maliciousness as she breathed out: "He is, is he?"

"No," Crabbe shook his head, regretting his outburst and looking away. "No, he's not, he didn't, forget I said that."

"Hang on," Pansy said, raising her eyebrows and crooking her head. "He's making you dress up as girls." she said slowly but forcefully, staring at Vincent. "You and Greg. Polyjuice Potion, I suppose?"

He looked away. Malfoy would kill him for ratting him out. "Don't tell him I told you all right?"

Pansy gave a laugh, rolling her eyes. "That was you and Greg! Bloody hell. Why didn't I think of that?" she said in a tone as if Draco'd done something admirably clever.

"You can't know, all right?" Vincent said hurriedly. "Don't tell him I told you."

Pansy waved it off with her hand, rolling her eyes. They were interrupted by Theodore and Blaise, who just came into the common room. Pansy was saved by the bell. She hadn't promised anything, she noted to herself as she smiled contently. Ah, life was sweet again. Pansy always got what she wanted.


"Nobody can help me," Draco snapped at Myrtle through his tears. He was standing in the abandoned lavatory on the sixth floor where he had made a habit of visiting the female ghost, with his hands in a convulsive grip on the broken basin. The tears flooded from his face down the drain. He took a deep breath over the sound of Myrtle's wimping and pleading, swallowed harshly and then with a great shudder he looked up into the mirror where he saw... Potter looking at him.

Immediately he was filled with a wild embarassement and anger flooding through him and he spun around quickly and drew his wand; Potter reacted just as hastily and pulled out his own just as Draco sent a hex his way, to which Potter cast himself aside. Myrtle began screaming out of shock at once.

Draco saw Potter jerk his wand and a thought rushed through his head – Potter was using a non-verbal enchantment, so Draco just barely had time to fend it off and raised his own wand again.

"No! No! Stop it!" Myrtle cried, her voice echoed between the tile-walls. There was a loud bang behind Potter where Draco's spell missed him again and instead it exploaded the waste basket. Potter pointed his wand at him and yelled out the Leg-Locker Curse and Draco saw a bright flash beside his face but it missed him by an inch and bounced back on the wall behind him, breaking the toilet below Myrtle who began screaming even louder. Disgusting, brown toilet-water began flooding the floors and Potter slipped and fell. Draco took his chance and raised his wand, and with all the anger in the world and thoughts of revenge on his father going through his head he shouted: "Cruci—"

But then as if the world had stopped – time moved very slowly and quick at the same time. He knew what was happening before it happened yet he had no time to do anything about it. "SECTUMSEMPRA!" Potter yelled and before he could defend himself in any way, the pain was worse than anything he'd ever imagined. Before he had time to react or even think, something invisible sliced him open and suddenly there was blood everywhere and the pain was worse than Crucio. He stumbled backwards in shock and crumpled onto the soaked floor. Everything was spinning around and his vision was blocked by millions of tiny little stars. He hardly registered the fact that his wand slipped out of his hand and Potter gasped "no!" and came slipping and stumbling towards him.

He would probably die now, and it was probably for the best. Now he didn't have to finish his mission for the Dark Lord, which he was sure he would fail anyway, and he didn't have to die by the Dark Lord's hand... Images of his mother and father flashed through his mind...

The last thing he felt was his almost unconscious hand fumbling over his chest, feeling something wet that must've been blood. He hardly realised there was saliva dripping out of the side of his mouth as voices above him seemed miles away...Then everything turned black.


He was lying in a bed, close to vomiting or fainting all the time. He didn't even know if he was conscious or not. He was in shock; he never thought Potter would actually do something like that to him, but apparently the boy was crueller than he'd given him credit for. Someone was dabbing his wounds with something damp. He slipped in and out of feverish dreams and he had no idea how much time had passed when he heard a door burst open, someone storming into the room through protests of the nurse, and then outraged scream.

"I order you to let me see my son!"

The familiar voice hurried closer ignoring whatever protests. "Draco!"

He tried opening his eyes but he didn't know if he was awake. The world was still spinning but he recognised that voice although he rarely heard it this angrily...

"I told him! I told him not to touch my son!"

He was spinning out of consciousness again...


He gasped. The room was silent now and dimly lit with candle lights. His eyes focused at once and his mother jumped towards him and threw down her copy of the Evening Prophet at the first sign of life.

"Oh darling!"

Her warmth and love surrounded him for a few seconds as she held him carefully.

"Oh, Draco, I was so worried..."

He coughed lightly and tried sitting up, looking around, but at once the pain overtook him and he gasped out loud. His entire upper body ached. Apparently he was in the hospital wing. The other beds were empty. Madam Pomfrey hurried over at once. His mother's face was pale, and bonier than ever. Tears were rolling down her cheeks and her light hair was framing her face, more unkempt than he'd ever seen her. He now realised with an anxiety filled bang, that he needed to finish the task. Would it perhaps have been better to just die on that lavatory floor...?

"Severus sent an owl for me as soon as he'd helped you here. I came at once. Severus saved you, darling..."

"What?" he mumbled confusedly, hardly grasping what had happened, and realised how dry his mouth was.

"Drink this, boy," Madam Pomfrey muttered and reached out a silver goblet filled with a dark liquid. "And you'll feel better soon." He hadn't the strength to argue so he gulped down the contents.

"Oh, Draco, I thought you m-might..."

"Hush, hush, love!" Madam Pomfrey interrupted her. "He's awake now, Madam! Don't frighten the boy..." She stuffed a pillow behind his back and he groggily sat up in bed.

"Leave us!" Narcissa Malfoy hissed at the nurse who grudgingly did as she was told.

"Potter cursed me," Draco croaked out, remembering everything vividly again.

"I know, darling, he isn't right... he isn't well! If Professor Snape hadn't..."

"What? Happened to walk by? Any teacher would've helped me in that situation, mother..."

"I don't want you at this school anymore!" Narcissa suddenly sobbed out. He looked at her for a moment, watching tears stream down her face, and then tore his eyes off her and mumbled "Aguamenti" vaguely pointing his wand towards the empty goblet on the night-stand. He reached out to grab it and swallowed the water quickly.

"I need to be here, I need to finish my job," he mumbled. Narcissa did nothing but continue crying.

"I fear for you."

He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. He feared a lot of things.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been trampled by a hoard of centaurs."

"You will heal, Draco."

"How poorly am I?"

Narcissa swallowed hard. "You'll have some scars, darling..."

He loathed Potter.

"Where are Crabbe and Goyle?"

"Outside. They're told they cannot come in. The Healer's decision. Or perhaps they've gone back to your common room..."

"Does everybody know what's happened?" he asked, suddenly ashamed that the entire school would gossip about how Potter had defeated him. He certainly hoped it wouldn't change his stand in Slytherin.

"Things like this spread quickly, I would suppose..." Narcissa mumbled. She leaned over to stroke hair out of his face and caress his cheek. The worry and anxiety was clear on her face. "You don't look well, my love."

He played it off by pulling his face away and clearing his throat. "I'm fine, mother. I'm handling everything. You don't have to worry."

The large oak doors opened and Madam Pomfrey was blocking his view, talking to the newly arrived, but Draco recognised the voice at once. Narcissa looked over as Pansy appeared behind Madam Pomfrey, looking more caring than he'd ever seen her. A jolt went through his stomach when he saw her – she was here, did that mean she believed him about Polyjuicing Crabbe and Goyle? Did that mean she'd missed him and still fancied him?

As soon as she saw him her face screwed up and she gave an anxious squeal. "Draco!"

He felt an incredible urge to be close to her, not sexually, just to have her near him in the bed, feel her small body next to his, hug her naked skin and feel her lips again, he hardly remembered how they felt and he needed to be reminded... She came closer and couldn't keep her eyes off him, except for when she and Narcissa cheek-kissed. Narcissa gave a loving sob into her handkerchief when she saw Draco looking up at Pansy and reaching out an arm. Pansy hesitantly sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at him worriedly with her eyes wide. His hand immediately reached out from under the blankets and moved towards her, and her hand met his and they intertwined their fingers. Her skin felt better against his than he'd even imagined.

Narcissa gave a loud sob and blew her nose in the handkerchief. He knew exactly what she was proudly thinking – 'my son, so lovable, so loved'. Pansy stroked his hair and his cheek just as his mother had done but for once she seemed at loss for words.

"Does it hurt much?" she said carefully. She wasn't close to tears but he knew she was unaccustomed to showing affection.

"No, it's fine," he lied and even put on a small smirk, while their fingers played together. He stroked her hand with his thumb.

"What happened?" Pansy asked in a tone so unlike her own taunting self-assured voice, he hardly recognised it. "I heard something about Potter. But even he wouldn't dare doing something like this would he?"

Narcissa sobbed loudly again. "But he did!"

"Why? What did you do to him?" Pansy raised her voice. "Nothing!"

Draco kept stroking her hand with his thumb. He reached out with his other arm to stroke her arm and make her come in for a hug. She leaned in over him and embraced him carefully – her hair fell onto his face, but he didn't mind, it smelled very nice and very her. He nuzzled his face close to hers and kissed her cheek several times. She kissed him back, on his ear, and then let go and pulled back again. Narcissa didn't mind – quite the opposite, Draco knew.

"He needs to be expelled. What is being done about this?" Pansy turned to Narcissa at once.

"S-Snape said he will punish the boy," Narcissa sobbed.

"Nothing less than expulsion is acceptable! He tried to murder another student!" Pansy exclaimed. Draco willingly left out the part where he had tried to use an Unforgivable Curse on Potter just before the curse hit him.

"He's always had it in for you!" Pansy went on, angrier by the minute. "He's probably jealous of you!"

Draco gave a mirthful smirk - Pansy always managed to cheer him up.

"Madam?" Madam Pomfrey called out for Narcissa who excused herself and walked over, her long travelling cloak billowing behind her, to speak with the Healer.

"Come here..." Draco mumbled at once and reached an arm out for Pansy. She obliged and moved in closer. "Did you miss me?" she teased. He only looked at her with a small smile and waved for her to kiss him. Finally their lips met and even though it had only been a few days since they last kissed, he felt extremely pleased. He kissed her again, and again, and another time, until she pulled back, probably more conscious about Narcissa being in the same room than he was. He couldn't think of anything but to kiss her again, no matter who was watching.

"You look fit today," he commented, instead of telling her he had indeed missed her. She just rolled her eyes.

Draco quickly hexed a sound-proof barrier between them and the others, enclosing them in visible privacy and then he spoke again. "Some privacy, perhaps…"

Pansy smirked. "I worried for you."

"That surprises me."

Pansy gave her high-pitched laugh. "I decided to kill Potter."

"Then you realised you weren't strong or magically powerful enough?"

"Something like that. Instead I told Crabbe to curse him behind his back."

"That's my girl," he sniggered. It emitted a genuine, happy smile from Pansy, which sent another jolt through his abdomen. He had never cared for her more, and he suspected she felt the same. It grew and grew. If he thought back on how they were a year ago, it was nothing like now. He wondered if that meant he loved her now.

Pansy cleared her throat. "Crabbe told me about the Polyjuice."

Draco laughed. "I told you."

"Sorry," she laughed back and reached out to stroke his hair. He wished he could ask her to climb into bed with him but he feared his injuries were too grave, not to mention the two women watching over them.

"Couldn't you tell me what it is you're doing, Draco?"

Draco closed his eyes. Not that question again... He didn't want to lie to her anymore, but he couldn't tell her... She knew that. He was silent and avoided her gaze for a moment, wishing she hadn't just said that. Then he looked up at her, not surprised to see that her face was serious again. He swallowed.

"You know I can't," he said shortly. She gave a half-shrug and rolled her eyes, her jaw clenching at once. He looked at her but she looked away, cold at once, and he wished he could salvage the feeling they just had, but the mood was chillier now...

She said nothing for a long while, but kept tapping her foot on the floor, as if ready to leave. He didn't know what to do so he just looked at her and wished she wouldn't have said anything. Why couldn't she be satisfied with everything he had told her?

His hand reached out for hers again and her fingers reluctantly parted for his to find their way between them.

Then Narcissa walked over, they pulled their hands away and he adapted a casual sneer even though he didn't want Pansy to take her warmth and attention away with her.


On her way back from the hospital wing she slipped through the dark corridors towards the dungeons, feeling happier than she ever thought she had been, despite Draco's unfortunate injuries. She didn't think she had loved him before this. Maybe a little, but not like this. Her insides were filled with it – she loved him so much she didn't know what to do, she wanted to squeeze him hard and tell her she loved him over and over again. Nothing else occupied her mind. He was hers and nobody else's, she had him and nothing else mattered. Mine, mine, mine, she thought blissfully.

He had a few spots on his back, a pale skinny body, a pointy face, but she didn't mind. She definitely loved him now, for the first time.

As soon as she entered the Slytherin common room she was bombarded with questions about Draco and Potter. Obviously the knowledge of what had happened had spread through the school like Fiendfyre. Her house-mates were in a riot state of mind all evening, shouting and loudly discussing what they thought of Potter. They all unified in hatred, and had it been another house, their Head would probably have come and told them all to go to bed, but luckily for them Snape usually turned a blind eye.

"Potter should seek help," Pansy went on half an hour later, in the midst of the bashing, "He's off his rocker – well, we've always known that, haven't we, but this really proves it... Obviously Potter loathes Draco, and Draco hasn't even done anything! Potter just attacked him from behind and yelled 'I'll kill you!'…"


Draco slept for fourteen hours and woke up at noon the next day in a sunny hospital wing. It was silent and calm, all students except him and a small first-year girl who got hurt playing Exploding Snap were in various classrooms. He never wanted to leave. Madam Pomfrey served him breakfast and doted on his wounds. He just wanted to lie there being taken care of, not having to think of his task. He wanted to escape it all with the excuse that he was injured but he knew that was impossible.

That was why after a few days he began to feel stressed. He needed to get better so he could keep working.

Potter would be missing the final match of the season which was that Saturday. Draco had hoped for a larger punishment for his arch-enemy, Potter had after all almost killed him. And Draco would have those scars from where his chest had been ripped open all his life, probably. He let Pansy stroke them when he got out from the hospital wing. Finally, he let her in.

He'd been relaxed and confident at the beginning of the school year, now he was the complete polar opposite. His assignment and the pressure of everything else was overwhelming, he was sure he would crumble soon. He never joked anymore, he realised. He'd lost his cheeky, funny side during all of this. Before, he hadn't taken the Dark Lord seriously, because he hadn't reckoned it would have an impact on him and his family. Parts of him loathed the responsibility of having to take care of his family, he wished his parents could sort this mess out and that he could just play around at Hogwarts like he had a year ago. But life was different now, and he was different now. This sick experience had made him more mature – he was softer to Pansy even though he hadn't any time with her, and he balanced everything on his shoulders now that his father could not.

A part of him still wanted to make the Dark Lord proud, to show everyone he was capable. Another part of him just wanted to get out at every price.

Whatever the reason he needed to finish it.

His last, feeble try, one spring evening, was a Protean charm. It was a NEWT-level spell, something he'd tried to master for weeks. He was ready to give up and jump from the Astronomy tower when he put the old, ruddy Potions book in the cabinet and fiercely shut the door.

He waited nervously for a second, before opening the door again to find the book gone. Step one finished. He closed it again and waited. He'd been through his procedure a hundred times. The book would now be trying to transport itself from Hogwarts to Borgin and Burkes. Most likely when he opened the door the next time, the book would be nowhere to be found. It had been like this for months. He could transport things to the shop, but the Cabinet wouldn't work the other way - it wouldn't transport anything back to him. He imagined Borgin had a large pile of rubbish that Draco had transported to him the last couple of months.

He performed the Protean charm once more, which was a series of hexes and spells, but he didn't hope for much.

Then he heard a small click from inside the cabinet.

He jerked at the sound. His heart began beating quicker at once. It couldn't possibly be...?

Oh, please, Merlin, let it be...

After what felt like an eternity, but what probably only was a minute or two, he reached out to open the Cabinet slowly.

For the first time ever, there wasn't just an empty echoing shell of wood looking back at him. Inside lay the book again. It had been transported back from Borgin and Burkes to Hogwarts.

Staring at it, his heart was beating so firmly he heard it echoing in his ears. He had suceeded.