Blame the holidays for the lateness of this one. Also, as in the last chapter, a sincere and grateful thank you for the kind reviews! It's nice that people are reading and enjoying this. *beams*

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Thank the stars, Draco thought for the first time in his life at Hogwarts, that he had a double period of History of Magic first thing this morning. Binns droned on in a thin, toneless voice that routinely lulled his students to sleep. He hovered at the front of the room, always oblivious of students' behavior so long as it wasn't disruptive.

This period found Draco shifting in his seat, trying to find a satisfactory position to sleep in. If he put his head on the desk, his hair would certainly be messed up for the rest of the day. Leaning his head on his hand resulted in his arm slowly sliding from underneath, and he'd wake up as his head bobbed off. Arms crossed on the desk, chin on his forearm, was just plain uncomfortable. Eventually, he snatched Vince's scarf from the back of the seat in front of him, bunched it up and rested his forehead on it. He fell into a shallow sleep breathing in the sharp clean scent of the material.

Had he even been to sleep the night before? Draco honestly wasn't certain. Up late with Harry, then a slow and cautious return to his room. Greg had stirred awake as he'd entered and Draco had lifted a finger to his lips to silence him. By morning, he'd thankfully forgotten, and hadn't asked Draco for an explanation.

For hours, then, he'd stirred under the blankets in his bed. Sleep eluded him and he'd spent hours staring at the backs of his eyelids. Time spent like that was a blur; vaguely he remembered waking up two or three times before dawn, but never recalled actually falling asleep. There were no dreams.

His main problem was the adrenaline and excitement thrumming in his body. Every time he'd think back to his time spent with Harry, he'd feel a stab of pleasurable anxiety that'd jolt him awake. And he couldn't NOT think about it. So much had happened recently, and his relationship with Potter had reversed itself completely. It'd gone so fast, at the time Draco couldn't dissect exactly what'd happened and when things had changed. He was simply wrapped up in the emotions, unable to analyze anything beyond the obvious.

It seemed like he'd just closed his eyes when Vince shook him awake. "Feel free to go on sleeping, but class is over and I'd like my scarf," he'd grinned, and Draco, yawning, handed it over.

Binns was saying something about a test tomorrow. Wonderful, thought Draco as he rubbed his eyes. His fingers skimmed the top of his face; it felt textured, patterned in knit-style. He tried arranging his hair to cover it.

The class filed out, and Draco lagged behind slightly, looking ponderous. He'd had to sleep through one of the few critical History of Magic classes of the year! His grade couldn't suffer the failure of a test. Of course Vince and Greg hadn't taken a word of notes, so he'd have to go with Plan B.

"Rachel!" Draco beamed as he walked up to a short Hufflepuff girl with a hideously chaotic mess of brown curls on her head.

She frowned, looking at Draco with a mix of confusion, suspicion and hope. Her cheeks were flushed and she muttered something inaudible.

Brushing platinum fringe out of his eyes, he flashed her an enchanting smile. "Why don't we walk to Divination together? We've never had the chance to speak much, I'm afraid. Here, let me carry your bag for you..."

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He slept through much of Divination. Still, he found time to not only read Rachel's tea leaves ("You're going to fail tomorrow's History of Magic test. Quite badly, it says here.") but to nick the notes she'd taken in their previous class. Hufflepuffs were diligent note-takers. Probably because they were too thick to remember anything on their own, Draco reasoned.

Potions was next. As much as Snape favored him, there was still no way he'd be able to so much as close his eyes in that class. Draco felt drained, absolutely exhausted. Apparently, the few nights of full sleep he'd had were not enough, and the weeks of sleeplessness were back with a vengeance.

On the way to Potions, he nearly tripped over a Creevey. That settled it - he was going back to bed. Sod the rest of his classes.

Snape would be easy enough to manipulate. The thought that he'd be warm and snug in his bed in less than an hour made Draco smile.

Weasley passed by him, casting a look at Draco. "Why the fuck are you smiling at me, Malfoy?"

He rolled his eyes. He really didn't feel up for verbal sparring. "Your language is as low class as your family, Weasel."

"That's all you've got?" Ron laughed mockingly, showing a mouth full of slightly crooked teeth. "You've used that one before, Malfoy, I'm sure of it!"

Draco sacrificed his desire to have the last word. He sped up his stride, pushing past Weasley and entering the classroom. Ron and Hermione walked in together, a few paces behind him. He hadn't even noticed Granger before, but her presence made sense - Weasley was always pestering him in order to impress the Mudblood.

There was no sign of Potter. Draco was sulking to himself, trying to occupy his mind with other things, but was feeling increasingly anxious at Harry's absence. Vince and Greg showed up just after the start of class and were verbally slapped on the wrist by Professor Snape.

Five minutes later, Harry skulked into the room.

"What a shame," Snape grumbled, "Here I thought this would be a blissfully Potter-free day."

Assorted Slytherins sniggered as Snape deducted ten points from Gryffindor and a humiliated Harry shrunk into his seat. Draco chuckled along with them. Inside, he was quite happy, as he'd had his Harry fix and was content for the moment.

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The stars had smiled on him again.

Draco and Vince finished their potion mere minutes after it was assigned. Perfectly mixed and effective, of course. He watched Weasley and Potter struggle with their potion - an incredibly simple Vanity Serum, for use in making the sloppy more conscience of their appearance.

"Vanity Serum won't help Weasel," he whispered to Vince. "It'll just make him more aware of his hand-me-down clothes."

Ron turned around and glared as the pair laughed. Draco smirked back, innocently fluttering his eyelashes.

He leaned close to Vince again. "I'm not going to the rest of my classes. When I nudge you, start holding your breath."

It was too bad Harry had to suffer. Draco felt a small pang of guilt, but hushed the feeling away. The opportunity was too good to pass up.

He slipped his wand up his sleeve, leaving the tip barely extending past his fingers. Casually, as if stretching out a cramp, he raised his arm and whispered "vaporate". From his hidden wand drifted a near-invisible cloud of mist. It hit its target and immediately, Harry and Ron's potion fizzled and began rising into the air as a fog.

"What...?" Weasely looked puzzled. Draco wasn't surprised; he WAS the thick one of the group. Not so thick, however, as he whirled to face Draco. "What did you DO, Malfoy?"

Snape gave an exasperated sigh. He crossed the room in a most authoritative way, announcing: "Bow your heads and exit the room. Eyes closed, and don't breathe any of that in!"

The class nearly tripped over themselves on the way out. A few students were coughing softly as they milled about in the corridor. Ron couldn't stop sneezing, shooting small iridescent green bubbles each time he did so.

"Potter and Weasley - " Neither boy looked up as Snape said their names. "Need I even say it? The usual time and place for your detentions, plus twenty points from Gryffindor. I do wish you wouldn't insist on ruining my nights as you ruin my days. And Granger - "

Hermione looked up, shocked. She hadn't been anywhere near the situation, having chosen instead to work with Seamus Finnigan.

"You'll be attending detention as well, for allowing Weasley and Potter to so entirely botch their potion."

Draco flashed a smirk at Vince and Greg. "Marvel at my dramatic talent, boys."

He put on a thoroughly miserable face and staggered his way up to Snape. "Professor," he sniveled, a shake in his voice, "I inhaled an entire cloud! I'm certain it was toxic. I feel like I could black out... at any moment..."

"Go back to your room, Malfoy, and sleep it off. There's no need for you to see Madam Pomfrey, as it's just a Vanity Serum. I'd suggest keeping a mirror nearby, on the unlikely chance the potion was mixed correctly..."

"...least something good came out of it..." He heard the Weasel say under his breath.

He walked past the Terrible Trio on his way through the corridor. Granger was lamenting her detention, while Weasley was disemboweling Malfoy with his eyes. Potter, standing slightly apart from the other two, briefly locked eyes with him. He looked... disappointed. Draco seriously hoped he hadn't seen...

"I guess you got what you deserved, Malfoy." Ron glared down his freckled nose at him. "I don't know what you did to our potion, but I hope it makes your eyes fall out."

Harry put a hand on his friend's arm. "Ron, it wasn't his fault. We... must've done something wrong." His words were spoken slowly, in a low voice. Then, surprisingly, Harry looked right at Draco. "I'm sorry you got hurt. It really was an accident."

Draco blinked. The look on Weasley's face was priceless - as was the look on his own, surely. "Of course it was an accident. It isn't like you're bright enough to - " He just couldn't finish, not when faced with Harry's sincerity. "I'll be fine," he muttered instead. "Thank you." As a hasty afterthought, he added, "...Idiot."

His face was burning as he retreated to the Slytherin dorms. He couldn't get to his bed fast enough, and when he did, shut the heavy green curtains around him. Draco felt a stab of pity for Harry. Certainly, he'd be catching hell from Weasley and Granger for sticking up for Draco.

Since Harry would have a miserable detention tonight, he assumed they wouldn't be seeing each other. It was just as well. Draco needed the extra sleep in a desperate way. He couldn't keep blowing off classes.

Ah, Potter... Draco didn't know what he felt for him. Infatuation was a good way of describing it. He'd always been infatuated with Potter, in a critical and negative way. His infatuation now was just of a different sort. It was a sort of crush, he admitted reluctantly. There was a definate attraction, which was seemingly mutual.

Any deeper thoughts on the subject, Draco wasn't willing to work out just yet.

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