Nothing belongs to me.
XCII: In The Moment
Draco Malfoy had long given up hope that he would ever reach tomorrow. So he wasn't even remotely surprised when he woke up again on April 17th.
Draco wondered what it was he would do this time.
He was running out of ideas for suicide, so no, no death today. Besides, Madam Pomfrey almost always saved him in time, and he never got that feeling of exhilaration when he threw himself off the Astronomy tower anymore.
Research was never any fun – or any help for that matter. There was no answer to this thing. Draco had even swallowed his pride and gone to Dumbledore for help once, but even the greatest wizard alive couldn't explain why he woke up to find everyday was April 17th.
Similarly, working on the cabinet was a total waste of day: any progress made would be erased the following April 17th.
So recklessness it was. Yeah, that was always fun!
"But what to do?" he wondered aloud as he dressed.
Draco fondly remembered the one morning he ran naked around the castle.
It had taken over half of the teaching staff to bring him down in the end, but it was worth the humiliation: Draco would never forget the look on Minerva McGonagall's face.
"Make it up as I go along?" he suggested to his reflection in the mirror he kept handy at his bedside.
"Yeah," he decided, "I'll do that."
Already, Draco felt so reckless, that he didn't even bother to fix his hair. (The rugged look was sexier anyway.)
He swaggered out of his dorm and out of the Slytherin common room, fancying some breakfast.
On the way, Draco bumped into someone in the entrance hall.
"Watch it, Malfoy!"
Draco watched amusedly as the youngest Weasley struggled to her feet, and a stroke of inspiration came to him.
His second reckless, in the moment act now stood before him.