Suddenly it hit Draco that at least Cass would be proud of him for wiping the memory of the Boy Who Lived, and he felt the slightest bit better. However, this would only happen if Draco wasn't, you know, rotting away in Azkaban for his horrid crime.

The Malfoy dungeons seemed much more homey all of the sudden.

Potter's eyes widened in horror, focused on something over Draco's shoulder. Draco froze and slowly turned to see a hooded figure emerge from the bushes a ways off and start humping on a unicorn. And wasn't that just perfect? Having one's first real kiss right next to a dead lump of bleeding unicorn and a perverted vampire. It was at these thoughts that Draco let out a manly scream and bolted, Fang hot on his heels like a good boy, but Potter . . . not so much. Draco's lumos went out when he was a good fifty paces away and he froze, not sure what to do. Next to him, Fang whined, and Draco tried to recast the spell and ball of blinding light burst from the tip of his wand. Draco tried to use what Dumbledore had taught about conserving magic, but still couldn't get the lumos to decrease in strength. The frantic beating of his heart told Draco that the dark would be better for a while.

The dark consumed him once more and Draco felt the tears coming. He was dead. Potter was going to die and Draco was too scared to save him, and then the dragon was going to kill Draco for letting Potter die. Draco should have never taken the deal.

This was, of course, when Draco remembered his amazing boots. This was also when he realized his lungs were on fire. Draco raised his arms above his head and focused on breathing. Surely death by mysterious stone dragon was more dignified than death by fifty yard dash.

"Pssst," said a gruff voice. "You there."

"Me?" asked Draco, startled, as he looked all around the moonlight path.

"Yes, you," a figure said, popping out from some brush. It was a little man with furry, white goat legs and small horns sticking out of his black hair . . . a faun, Draco realized belatedly.

"You're . . . you . . . are . . . wow," Draco breathed, dropping to his knees so he could get a better look. He had never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

The faun blushed, his pale skin turning darker under the moonlight, and even the sticks and leaves haphazardly poking from his thick tufts couldn't deter Draco from his beauty.

"It is an honor to meet you, one who calls himself Roderick," the faun said and bowed. "The centaurs have talked many nights of your great future."

"Really?" Draco asked, eyes narrowed. "Because I'm Draco. Draco Malfoy."

"As I am both Gabe and Pan, and the great Emrys is nothing but Merlin with a beard," he smiled warmly as he spoke, but Draco didn't get it.

"Who are you?"

"I am in service to the centaurs for my wrongdoings," the faun paused and checked over his shoulder, "and now I must leave you, but we will meet again in the future, young Roderick, I am sure of this."

With a rustle, he disappeared back into the brush and Draco was left alone once more, with problems up to his neck. Deciding that facing the dragon's wrath was better than facing the ministry's, Draco stayed put, but was very concerned to see a very alive Potter emerging with the rest of the group when they finally found Fang and him. However, the other boy showed no indication that anything was amiss.

Which left Draco with only one problem: getting Potter to pass a test he didn't even know about . . . that Draco hardly knew a thing about.

The next morning, Draco called a meeting in his tiny chambers after breakfast. It would be the first time Crabbe and Goyle actually saw the inside of Draco's quarters, because he couldn't risk anyone overhearing their conversation. Pansy arrived first and made herself comfortable on his bed. Draco was pleased when Crabbe and Goyle entered and took their places on either side of her without touching anything. Draco paced his small grounds as he explained what was going on . . . well, some of what was going on.

"I owe someone a favor that I intend to carry through. Crabbe and Goyle, I need you two on your best these next few days. Potter doesn't take a walk without me knowing, understand?"

Crabbe nodded enthusiastically while Goyle did so seriously.

"What does Potter have to do with things?" Pansy asked.

"It's a long story, Pans," Draco sighed. "Can you please just trust me on this one?"

"Trust you?" Pansy smiled. "Never."

The next day when he was in the Library studying for exams, Pansy's voice in his ear out of nowhere nearly gave him a heart attack.

"Potter's on the move."

Draco's eyes snapped up and followed the other boy out of the Library. Potter seemed to be glowering at something. Draco followed his line of sight and found a Ravenclaw boy that he had never seen before. Draco trailed behind them.

When they were finally alone in the hallway, Potter caught up to the boy and stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"I saw you take that book," Potter accused and Draco rolled his eyes, hardly wanting to watch Potter preach at the kid.

"I-I-I'm sorry," the kid sobbed. "I just-I have to get a good grade! I need it! You can't tell on me! My father would kill me!"

"You aren't allowed those books for a reason."

"I know, I know! But I just have to get the best grade in the whole class or he won't be proud of me!"

"Fine," Potter said, and Draco couldn't help but gape. "Keep the book, but don't get yourself caught."

Then he was walking away. Draco was even more stunned when the Ravenclaw boy turned, looked right at him in his hiding spot, and threw Draco a wink before vanishing.

"Well," said a voice right next to his ear and for a second time Draco startled around, this time to find Em right behind him. "It looks like your boy has proved himself to be truly kind at heart. How lovely."

"No." Draco had to disagree. "But can I get the staff now?"

"I wish. Kindness is not all it takes," Em chuckled and then he, too, was vanishing.

Draco groaned.

It was three days later, when Draco was on Potter duty alone, that the next task happened. Draco had followed Potter from the Great Hall after dinner. He went up to what Draco had previously assumed to be the Gryffindor tower. Draco hid in a nook near the bottom of the steps, not wanting to climb a million just to reach a scowling fat lady again. Eventually, Potter came back down alone. He did that sometimes, Draco had noticed, just ran off when nobody had their eye on him. Well, Draco always had his eye on Potter . . .

Oh gods, no, no, no . . . Draco never had his eye on Potter, not ever.

Or . . . he wouldn't have them on Potter, right after these stupid tasks were completed.

Draco kept following the other boy, nevertheless. They ended up on the opposite side of the castle before Potter suddenly froze, like he had heard something. Potter shuffled closer to a classroom door and leaned in, clearly listening intently to something on the other side. Draco was too far away to hear anything, but before he could try and relocate Potter got a savage look in his eye and yanked the door open, blazing as he tore through the threshold. Draco tip-toed over and peeked inside. Potter was shouting at the same Ravenclaw boy from the first task. An older Ravenclaw girl ran out of the room and didn't even spare Draco a glance.

"You're a thief!" Potter accused.

"Wasn't that obvious when you caught me stealing a book?"

"I thought you said that you just needed a good grade," Potter hissed and yanked some parchments out of the boy's hand and began to walk away. "You're so lucky I have bigger problems to deal with right now."

"You really didn't believe that story about my father did you?" the boy asked next.

Potter stopped walking and turned around. "What kind of person lies about their own father to make a few galleons?"

The boy began to grin and shrugged his shoulders, unconcerned. Potter grew more tense. Even from behind, Draco couldn't help but notice how wound up his enemy had become, like Crabbe's kneazle: alert and ready to attack. Draco figured this was not a well boding sign.

"Well . . ." the Ravenclaw started. "I figured it'd be something a boy like you would fall for. Who better to fall for some pathetic sob story about family than Harry Potter, the boy who murdered his own."

The parchments scattered about the classroom and Potter charged toward the boy, slamming him against the wall. Potter was much smaller, but that didn't seem to matter. "Nobody thinks that anymore," Potter growled. "Nobody ever really did."

"Oh, but they do," the boy drawled. "They are all just too scared to say it to you. Scared you might do them off next."

"No," Potter sounded pained as he slammed the boy back against the wall again.

The boy only laughed and looked Potter right in the eye. "Freak," he said, and Potter snapped, rearing back and punching the other boy. He vanished and Potter was left blinking, then suddenly he turned and ran away. Draco barely had time to think of his tiny chambers and step before Potter was at the doorway, and he found himself in his room. Em was waiting there, leaning against Draco's wardrobe.

"Well, that went terribly . . ." he drawled.

"What did you expect to happen?" hissed Draco.

"Ideally, he would have ignored my taunts and walked away."

"Obviously," Draco huffed. "Look . . . can't you like, give him another chance or something? A different test?"

"I . . ." Em's eyes widened and he trailed off. "Well, once . . . there was something else - that infuriating maze and bloody goblet of wine laced with Draught of the Living Death." Em seemed to be muttering only to himself, but Draco knew how important a person's inward ramblings could be, having the mother he did, and wisely kept quiet. "However, I'm not too sure how Anhora actually pulled it off. I'll have to go have myself a chat with Kilgharrah. How unfortunate."

"Who and who?" Draco asked when it was clear the wizard was finished.

"My predecessor, Anhora, and . . . er . . . Kilgharrah, you know, great stone dragon guy?"

Draco raised a brow, both at the implication and Em's sudden lack of eloquence. "So you do know him," he drawled.

"Knew him when he still had scales." Em smiled. "I can deal with his stubborn arse. I'll keep trying, kid. I promise."

Draco forced himself to focus on studying for his exams after that. The dragon was silent, and that was a small comfort. Once, when he was a bit early for Library Study, Draco found Hermione Granger already there, her nose stuck in a tome, and he successfully cast that spell he'd tried all those months ago at the manor. Draco managed to copy each and every page of Granger's notes which, in his opinion, only further guaranteed his success.

As he got more used to wearing his special boots, Draco realized how lucky he was. They were very powerful, even if they were a clashing shade of brown. It was like they were connected to both his mind and his surroundings. Even when Draco was in a rush, they would put him exactly where he needed to be. Sometimes the boots even seemed to relocate Draco to a more opportune area, if the one he'd been thinking about was occupied or something.

Draco could almost forget about all his problems - that was how amazing the boots were turning out to be. Draco thought that he was finally truly understanding what his father had meant by "quality over quantity." In final preparation for exams, Draco procrastinated greatly by brewing five perfect Forgetfulness potions on his last Saturday lesson with Snape before them, and his godfather let him keep his work. Draco stashed them in one of the boxes under his bed with all the other extra potions he'd acquired over the course of the year in it. Draco's mother had been sending Draco presents all year, and Draco couldn't find it in him to throw away any of the boxes. Other than the extra potions, exams ended up a bore, and Draco was mostly peeved to have studied more than he'd needed to. Damn Granger and her ridiculously thorough note-taking. There was one mudblood that Draco would never copy off of again. He was thinking next year he'd try the Ravenclaw girl who had a twin . . . Patil, or something like that.

Draco was sulking about this after his History of Magic exam when he suddenly realized he'd lost Potter and his crew. Draco's Potter-awareness was growing just as second nature to him as his boots were and he hadn't lost the other boy in what seemed like days. Draco frowned and thought back over the past few weeks and figured Potter would most-likely be at the giant's hut.

He was more than a little disturbed when he was right, and found Potter there having a conversation, taking no precautions to shield any of their clearly classified information.

Draco stepped away from the hut as the others left and ended up in a hidden alcove near Gryffindor tower, figuring he would catch Potter on his way up. As he stood there alone, he felt the anxiety he'd managed to bury under exams come back in full force. Draco was sure Potter was about to do something stupid. Draco tried to take comfort in the fact that the dragon was silent but, for once, the silence in his head was even worse.

It was deafening.

Draco blinked and felt pain. He looked down to find he'd nearly scratched his own arm raw and cringed before he decided that pacing was surely better than savaging one's own skin off. Draco let his mind calm to thoughts of his mother, who he was maybe a little more alike than he'd ever realized.

Draco did end up losing Potter to the Gryffindor common room again and was surprised when the other boy didn't come back out after an hour or so for one of his lonesome sulks. A bit after this Draco was startled by the dragon's call. Draco followed the pull and felt sicker and sicker as it led him toward the third floor corridor. Draco found "Fluffy's" door ajar and just knew Potter had somehow managed to sneak by him and do something extremely unwise.

Draco gulped before gliding into the room with his wand out, he was surprised to find the vicious beast he'd heard Potter describe earlier curled up snoozing already, though Draco magically stepped to the next door just in case. Draco pinched his nose and tried not to smell the devilsnare burnt into paralysis as he stepped to the next door. Draco then paused as he heard noise, realizing he had caught up with Potter, and Weasley and Granger, if the voices were anything to go by. Draco wondered how they had all managed to sneak by without him seeing earlier, but was soon pulled from thought when he realized the trio were moving on.

Draco realized how much danger he was truly in when he watched Weasley get trampled by some bloody chess pieces. Though the realization only made Draco happier to have his boots, and if he left Potter to die, the dragon, at the very least, would strip Draco of them. Draco stepped passed a nasty troll, rolled his eyes as he listened to Granger solve Snape's latest contribution to the world of poetry, and only paused as he watched Potter walk through the burning threshold.

Draco was pretty sure the boots would let him step through without a potion, but nearly peed himself as he tried it. After checking over his body and finding himself intact, Draco hurried to a new hiding space when he realized Professor Quirrell was in the room, facing Draco's way. He was pretty sure he hadn't been spotted, but slinked off behind a pillar and didn't dare move again.

Em suddenly distracted Draco as he appeared on the other side of the room, quiet as a mouse, and held a finger to his lips before disappearing once more. Draco watched and tried to follow the conversation, but he grew nervous as nothing happened. Potter either didn't know where the Sorcerer's Stone was or he refused to tell the dark bloody lord, and Draco watched in horror as Quirrell then came after Potter.

It all had began so fast.

Draco almost missed the golden air that had started to pulse right behind Potter, but when a staff popped into existence, Draco realized what was happening. He accioed the staff to him and pointed it at Quirrell and Potter's forms - just wishing that Potter would live.

Draco heard screams and stepped.