"Fuck," Draco swore quietly. He didn't have the energy to scream. He didn't even have the energy to cry. All he could do was sit curled in a ball on the floor and try to pretend that the world had stopped, at least for a little while. Time was running out for him.

He looked up when the bathroom door opened. Creevey strode in confidently, his book bag slung over his shoulder carelessly. Draco couldn't even force himself to yell at him, much less throw a hex. He laid his head back down on his knees and firmly ignored the other boy.

Moments passed in silence. Draco was surprised that it didn't feel awkward, but he was too tired to waste his energy on any type of emotion. Creevey didn't speak, for which he was somewhat resentfully grateful.

It was only when he stood up to leave for dinner nearly an hour later that he realized Creevey was sitting on the floor reading The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Five. He raised an eyebrow in disbelief but left without a word.

The next day Draco was scarcely surprised when Creevey showed up again, once more settling down to read his spell book in silence. He paid no heed to him, save to scowl at the Gryffindor when he entered.

The day after that, he growled "What the hell are you playing at, anyway?" as he walked past the boy to leave. Creevey simply smiled at him, which Draco found quite unnerving, and said softly, "I told you I'd be back, remember?"

For the next few weeks Creevey continued to silently read his spell books or work on homework when he visited Draco in the abandoned girls' bathroom. He constantly showed up five minutes after Draco, like clockwork. Draco always ignored the other boy. He supposed he could have easily found another hiding place for when he wanted to disappear from the world for awhile, but he didn't want to waste precious time searching. And he sure as hell wasn't going to use the Room of Requirement; he spent enough time in there looking for ways to repair that damn cabinet.

He was so used to their odd little arrangement that he was startled when Creevey started talking. "I cornered Myrtle in the boy's bathroom the other day. I asked her for a picture, and she seemed really flattered. Allowed me to take a few."

Draco stared at the other boy, somewhat shocked at the casual way he had spoken. Creevey wasn't looking at him; his gaze was directed toward his homework, which he was frowning at slightly. He seemed to be speaking almost absentmindedly. He didn't feel like answering the other boy's odd statements, so he ignored them, bringing his head back down to rest on his knees. Creevey didn't seem to care about the lack of response, for he kept talking. "She seemed to enjoy posing for the camera. I have more than enough to show my Mum and Pop when I see them again. I suppose I could send them by owl post, but I'd rather see their faces. They're always amazed at the things I show them from the magical world."

Filthy Mudbloods, Draco thought idly, but didn't vocalize his thoughts. While Creevey's words were irritating, the tone of his voice was somewhat soothing. He didn't allow himself to dwell on such an unclean thought, however, merely losing himself in the empty numbness that came from listening to the sound of Creevey speaking.

"Bloody hell," Creevey said in exasperation a moment later, "If I'd known Divination was going to be like this, I wouldn't have elected to take it. I mean, the subject is fascinating, but I don't think I have the Sight at all, and it makes doing homework frustrating."

Draco heard the sound of papers rustling and then there was silence. He couldn't help himself. He looked up at the other boy, and the way that Creevey was concentrating on his work made some foreign emotion fill his stomach.

He looked quickly away.

"What are the uses for bezoars again…?"

Draco rolled his eyes as he listened to Creevey mutter to himself about his latest assignment. He knew the answer, of course; but he saw no reason why he should impart his knowledge. The answer was in the book, after all. He let his mind go blank once more.

"It can cure most poisons….ah, of course…."

Draco lifted his head sharply, causing Creevey to pause in his musings. He raised an eyebrow, silently asking the question, but Draco barely noticed. He lowered his head, and the other boy went back to his mutterings.

Poison. Draco thought for several long moments, turning the idea around in his head. For the first time, he thought he might see a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel. His other plan needed some more thought, and the cabinet sure wasn't cooperating, but just maybe he could make this idea work. It would, however, require him to acquire a substance and a way to slip it unnoticed past those on the lookout for such things.

He was so lost in thought he didn't notice when Creevey left the room.

Draco needed to think. He walked laps slowly around the circled cluster of sinks, his hands on his arms. He could feel the hard muscles under his fingers, and rubbed them unconsciously. He paid no attention to Creevey, sitting in his customary position on the floor. The only way he could see the idea working was as a Christmas present, and that was still a ways away yet. That left him with only two other options, one of which was probably months away from a solution. He sighed quietly.

"I know it's a bit early, but I'm going to buy my family's Christmas gifts the next Hogsmeade weekend we have," Creevey said. Draco disregarded this; by now he was used to the times when the younger boy would randomly speak. "I think I'm going to get my Pop a chocolate frog, but I don't know what I'm going to get Mum or Dennis."

There was a long pause, and then Creevey spoke again. "Last year my Pop gave Mum a necklace. It was a really expensive one. He told her he bought it with his Christmas bonus, but I overheard him tell my Uncle Danny the real story. He was shopping for gifts when he made a quick trip to the loo. The men's queue was ridiculously long for some reason, but there was no one in the women's, so he nipped in real quick. Found the necklace on the floor." Creevey paused, and then said sheepishly, "He knew he should have put it in the lost and found, but he really wanted to give Mum something special that year."

Despite himself, Draco found himself thinking about Creevey's story. It really was rather remarkable that an odd chain of events had led to finding the necklace that would –

Draco caught his breath. Necklace. Bathroom. The Hogsmeade weekend coming up. This could be his best shot. Hell, maybe his only one, if the other things didn't pan out. He shook his head, nearly snorting aloud. Damn that Gryffindor. He might have dirty blood, but at least he wasn't completely useless.

The next two days Draco spent his free time putting his plan into motion. By the third day, there was little to do but wait for the Hogsmeade weekend.

As he popped into the abandoned bathroom once more, the words of his Mother's last letter ran through his brain: I'm praying with all my heart that you are studying diligently. Fear rushed through him anew; to an outsider those words may have seemed innocent enough, but he could hear the plea behind them as clear as day.

In a fit of rage he lashed out, hitting his fist against the cold marble of the white sink in front of him. It stung badly, but the pain took his mind off of the turmoil in his mind. He stood, leaning over the sink, his head pressed against the glass of the mirror, his breathing shallow and heavy, and allowed the pain to numb him.

It was only when he went to leave, his healed hand already on the doorknob, when he noticed Creevey wasn't in the room.

He didn't know why that made him angry.

He was still irritated two days later, when Creevey sauntered into the bathroom, his book bag once more thrown over his shoulder. Twenty minutes later he still hadn't spoken. The boy sat chewing at the end of his quill, his attention on what looked like Charms homework. For some reason this infuriated Draco even more. On some level he knew he was being irrational. His temper, however, was on a short fuse these days. At last he couldn't take it anymore. "Where were you?" he spat out.

Creevey looked up and for a moment stared blankly at Draco, and with a jolt he realized that this was the first time he'd spoken to Creevey in weeks.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Draco snapped, "why didn't you come two days ago?"

"I got caught trying to enter," Creevey said. He sounded surprised. "One of the Ravenclaw Prefects. Took five points away for 'being a peeping tom'. Never mind that this bathroom is abandoned." He rolled his eyes.

Draco crossed his arms and looked away. He wasn't sure how to respond.

"I didn't think you'd care. But you do." It wasn't a question.

"Fuck no. You're the one who said you weren't going to leave me alone. I thought I'd finally gotten rid of you for good," Draco said, incensed.

Creevey shook his head. "You're not getting rid of me that easily."

"I could make you leave."

"Then why don't you?" Creevey challenged.

"Because quite frankly, you're not worth the time or the trouble," Draco threw back.

Creevey didn't respond. He went back to his Charms homework, leaving Draco to pace back and forth.