Hi, everyone! How are you? 😊 I hope you are doing fine! Here I come with a new chapter... I am really enjoying translating this, 😍 I really hope you are enjoying the story; we are reaching an interesting part hehehe 😉 feel free to leave any comment if you feel like it! Thank you soooo much for your support, and, in advance, for reading this new piece of the story! 😍

CHAPTER 16

After the training

Draco was coughing, retching uncontrollably, his head bent over the toilet. It was late at night, and, once again, nightmares had torn him from a restful sleep. Gasping, when the retching subsided, he flushed the toilet and kept his face resting on his arm, which lay over the rim of the toilet. He felt terrible. He gritted his teeth hard and had to restrain himself from letting out a groan of frustration that would wake his roommates.

He was fed up. He was tired of his body betraying him, of being filled with a nervousness, a panic, that he wasn't supposed to feel. He didn't have to have nightmares about becoming a Death Eater, he didn't have to dream of his father's corpse rotting in Azkaban. He didn't have to be afraid of fulfilling his destiny. It was an honour, a privilege. Something he'd longed to do, always had. Why did his body insist on denying him that satisfaction?

He was exhausted. He thought that the nightmares worsened when he was especially nervous or upset. And, lately, he'd been damned upset.

Because of Granger.

That stupid Mudblood had come into his mind to stay. She had invaded the recesses of his subconscious, and now she refused to leave. He hadn't spoken to her since what had happened at the Stone Circle, almost three weeks ago. He wasn't quite sure if it was out of embarrassment at the conversation that had gotten out of hand, out of resentment at her denial that she was to blame for what was happening to him, or because he was too stubborn to face her, but he refused to speak to her. He had ignored her completely, he had not even used her or her friends to have fun with his buddies. He had been very careful not to let such an occasion arise, which had been relatively hard, as they shared many classes. He needed to get her out of his mind, out of his thoughts, out of his life.

But she was always there. In class, sitting just a few desks away. In the Great Hall, at the other end of the huge room, but perceptible to the radar Draco's brain had become. In the Library, in a corner, studying with his friends, the stupid Saint Potter and the Weasel. The Inseparable Trio. Or with the Weasel Junior, that Ginny Weasley. Insufferable, and infuriatingly pretentious for a family of blood traitors. Also, occasionally, they were accompanied by a blonde Ravenclaw girl, who, if Draco wasn't mistaken, was known as Loony Lovegood. He didn't know her real name, and he didn't know anything about her. Nor did he care in the slightest. Even, at times, they were accompanied by Longbottom, that pipsqueak. Nothing new under the sun, Granger had been with that rabble all her life, the same sort of rabble she was. Only, now, Draco had consciously taken notice of the girl's habits. Even if they didn't speak to each other, or even glance at each other, Draco was still fucking unpleasantly aware of her.

He rubbed his face with his hands. Apparently the stress Granger was causing him was bringing back nightmares. It was the last straw.

He stood up, shivering slightly from the cold. He walked out of the bathroom, extinguishing the glowing lamp behind him, praying that he hadn't woken the others. He didn't feel like explaining himself or even talking to anyone. To his surprise, all his roommates were still asleep. Including Nott, unlike other times.

Grateful for the small fortune life was rewarding him with, he walked over to the desk and filled a glass of cold water, which he drained after a gulp.

Enjoying the icy liquid running down his irritated oesophagus, the boy averted his eyes to one of the windows, losing his gaze in the greenish light that the lake emitted, drawing pearly glints from the crystal of the glass. It was a very subtle light; he imagined there would be a bright moon in the sky. Otherwise, there would be no light to pierce the dense waters at this time of night.

At that moment, in the solitude of his room, he felt very stupid. And very angry with himself. Could he really not control what was happening to him? How ridiculous! Of course he could. Granger would go back to being the acquaintance she had always been. He would put her out of his mind. Without further ado. It couldn't possibly be that complicated. He was making a storm in a teapot, falling into a spiral of obsessive thoughts that were certainly not healthy.

He had enough problems of his own without this insignificant Mudblood coming along to torment him, to steal his peace of mind and ruffle his feathers.

Draco was a persevering man. He would put an end to this nonsense, and regain at least some of his peace of mind.

In the early hours of Tuesday morning, February 10th, a soft, icy mist was rolling across the castle grounds, causing the windows of Greenhouse Three to be completely fogged over. The seventh year students, wrapped in coats, scarves and gloves, were waiting with their bags in front of the greenhouse door. They were waiting for the bell to finally ring and for Professor Sprout to let them inside. They hoped for shelter from the freezing fog that froze their lungs.

When their prayers were answered, and the sound of the bell caused their Herbology teacher to open the door, smiling warmly at them, all the students rushed inside. But it didn't take long for them to realise, distressed, that there was no difference between the outside and the inside of the greenhouse. It was still bitterly cold.

"Good morning, everyone," greeted the teacher, smiling, standing in front of a table covered with a white sheet that concealed something, as the students settled into groups at their respective tables. Some didn't even take off their coats. "We're going to start working to warm up. Well, as you can see, today I have left protective equipment for each of you on the tables. It includes goggles, gloves, and a mouth guard. Not that today's class is going to be very dangerous, but it's better to be safe, I don't want any accidents. I don't want any accidents. Does anyone remember —" she lifted the white sheet with a flick of her wand, revealing what was underneath, "— what kind of plant is this?

The sheet had revealed six large square pots, in which were large, round, light green plants, their leaves rising towards the ceiling. They had an unreliable shape resembling a head of lettuce. They did not look dangerous, although they did wiggle suspiciously from time to time.

Hermione's well-trained hand was the first to rise. The teacher pointed to her.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

The girl took a breath and launched into one of her usual detailed explanations:

"It's a Chinese Chomping Cabbage. A dangerous plant that has real teeth —" More than half the class stared at the innocent leaves, in terror at the word 'teeth', "— and can grow up to about four metres tall, with the right care and temperature. As its name suggests, it has the ability to chew food, and is very sensitive. Its most common use is in the preparation of the healing potion Skele-Gro."

"Excellent! Ten points to Gryffindor," the professor exclaimed cheerfully. "As you can see, we are continuing our review of the plants that we have learnt to handle in previous years, and which are most likely to appear in your N.E.W.T. exams. Very well, that will be our task: to collect the Chinese Chomping Cabbage for the manufacture of healing potions..."

The Head of Hufflepuff House proceeded to explain how to extract the correct part of the plant that could be used for potions. Hermione, who already remembered the procedure as she had studied it in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi two years ago, allowed herself to glance at her classmates to see their reactions. Judging by their blank, glowering stares, she was sure that there was going to be a lot of biting going on in that class.

Just as she was about to glance back at the teacher, her eyes met Malfoy's, two tables away, who, like her, seemed to be glancing at their classmates. Or so she wanted to think. She tensed immediately as she felt those grey eyes boring into hers. Her first impulse was to avert her gaze immediately. But she didn't... because Malfoy didn't either. He kept piercing her with his steely, intense eyes. Without any disguise.

Hermione felt an inevitable fear come over her. She was looking Malfoy straight in the eye. In the middle of a crowded classroom, with her friends by her side. In front of everyone. She was doing something she shouldn't be doing, not in solitude and certainly not in public. But Malfoy was doing it too. She felt her heart beating steadily in her chest, ricocheting against her ribs. She felt the adrenaline rush through her, her breath quickening. It was forbidden, and yet they were doing it.

Their gazes intertwined, they clung to each other, and they even missed the steady voice of Professor Sprout teaching the class. They couldn't take their eyes off each other, it was as if they were locked on each other's eyes. They said nothing. They made no gestures of any kind. They just stared at each other for what must have been three seconds, but seemed like three hours to them.

That instant seemed like magic.

"... and that's why I don't want you to fool around, okay? All right, then, let's get on with it — each table gets a pot!"

Draco and Hermione looked away abruptly, in unison, and focused their gazes on the people they were sharing a table with.

Hermione hurried to put on her protective equipment, while Harry and Ron offered to fetch the potted Chomping Cabbage. Her heart was pounding. She was surprised to notice the goose bumps on her arms, and to realise that it had little or nothing to do with the coldness of the place. What had just happened? Why had they looked at each other like that?

Ernie Macmillan, with whom they shared the Herbology class, also began to put on the equipment, while smiling at the girl.

"Cold, isn't it?" the young man commented to make conversation, putting on his thick dragon-skin protective gloves. "We shouldn't have dropped Divination. Right now I miss the smell of tea and incense in that classroom. It was always so hot..."

"Tell me about it…" Hermione admitted, smiling back at him as she put on her big goggles. "Though I must admit, the smell was stifling."

Ernie laughed, holding the mouth guard in his hands.

"It's also true. Well, they say it's going to get worse by the end of the week, they're predicting more snow," Ernie said, putting on the guard and speaking in a mushy voice. "It's bad luck, I was hoping it would hold off until Saturday. I'm looking forward to the weekend... Who are you going to Hogsmeade with?"

"Is there a trip this weekend?" Ron asked, coming to the table with Harry, carrying the heavy pot between them. "I did not know it…"

"This Saturday is Valentine's Day," Ernie reported, animated, in his bombastic way of speaking. "And, I don't know if that's the reason, but the teachers have decided to organise a trip. I've already got a partner," he commented, looking visibly excited to talk about it. "I'm going with Susan, and y'all?"

"Nope," Harry admitted distractedly, placing his goggles on top of his own and trying to adjust them so they wouldn't bother him. "I guess — Wait!" He looked at Ron suddenly with alarm, going silent. His friend was startled by his look, and gave him a visibly alarmed look in return.

"What's wrong?" asked the young Weasley, concerned. Hermione realised that Ron thought Harry had just heard that strange voice in his head again, and therein lay his alarm. But nothing could be further from the truth. Harry shook his head, understanding the disturbed look on his friend's face, and looked at him with a knowing look on his face.

"Nothing's wrong," he emphasised, trying to reassure him without revealing anything in front of Macmillan. He looked at him more calmly. "But, this Saturday we haven't scheduled — ?"

"— special Quidditch practice!" Ron exclaimed in a shrill voice, his blue eyes popping out of their sockets again, suddenly remembering it. He slapped his freckled forehead. "Shit, aren't we going to be able to go to Hogsmeade? We didn't go last time either… Harry, you're the Captain, cancel it!"

"I'd love to, but the match is in two weeks and the Slytherin team has reserved the pitch almost every day," Harry protested with a grimace of annoyance. He snorted and pulled on his gloves. "Although they don't have a match until later..."

"They do it on purpose because they have Snape on their side," Ron muttered mournfully, too depressed to finish putting on his equipment. "If only McGonagall would support us... But she's too impartial."

"But Professor McGonagall is a huge Quidditch fan!" Ernie said, puzzled.

"Yeah, but not enough to get into a safe fight with Snape in order to get us more practices. As it's not a final, I don't think she'll be that involved..."

"And why is it a 'special' training?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Because the Chasers, Demelza and Satine, have a very important Charms midterm next week and they have to study," Harry explained.

"So Ginny is spared from having to go, because she's also a Chaser but she can't train alone," Ron said despondently. "The idea was that we'd only train Keeper, Seeker and Beaters. So... anyway, Hermione, have fun over there," Ron dismissed her with his hand, waving it dejectedly. Her friend looked at him guiltily.

"I feel bad about going without you, guys. May I —"

"No, woman, you didn't go the last time to keep us company either," Ron protested, shaking his head as if there was no argument possible. "Besides... I want some sweets from Honeydukes. Later I'll write down the ones I want you to bring me," he added, with satisfaction. She looked at him resentfully, while Ernie laughed.

Harry, on the other hand, barely forced a smile. He looked downcast at the still peaceful Chomping Cabbage they had to work with. Suddenly he raised his green gaze and eyed Hermione greedily:

"Are you going with Ginny to Hogsmeade?" he asked suddenly.

"I suppose so," Hermione said hesitantly, shrugging. But she couldn't help giving him a smug look that Ron, now finishing putting on his protective equipment, didn't see. "We haven't talked at all, you see I've just found out about the trip as well. Why?"

The boy shrugged and cleared his throat sharply, looking away.

"No reason... To find out if she already knew there was a trip, and had forgotten to tell the team. Or if she's planning on going with anyone," he added awkwardly, not knowing how to get out of his own awkward question. Hermione smiled sweetly. Or as sweet as the guard on her teeth would allow.

"Yes, I'll go with her. I'm sure she hasn't even heard about the trip, she would have told us. I don't think she'll have a date," she looked at him warmly to reassure him, and his friend smiled hastily. "With Neville too, I suppose, if he doesn't have any other plans," Hermione added to disguise the situation. She glanced at her classmate at the next table, engaged in a rather epic battle with the Chomping Cabbage, as he was watched admiringly by his unmoving and awestruck tablemates.

"And Luna's probably going too," Ron interjected, not picking up on the subtleties of the conversation they were having about his little sister. He rolled up his robes, preparing himself for the impending fight with the plant.

"That's right, with Luna too," Hermione corroborated, animatedly.

"Come on, everyone, enough chatter," scolded Professor Sprout, approaching them. "You're late. Look, Longbottom's already filled one of the pots with part of the Chomping Cabbage..."

Sure enough, their friend, with a round, sweaty face, and very unkempt, was holding a jar full of little greenish bits that evidently belonged to the plant. A huge horizontal slit had appeared in the innocent vegetable on Neville's table, now opening and closing, revealing the teeth inside.

"Yes, Professor," Hermione assured quickly.

"Right now, Professor Sprout," Ernie remarked.

The four classmates bent over the Chomping Cabbage, ready to struggle to get the right parts out. Before engaging in a fight with the plant's teeth, Hermione briefly glanced, helplessly, towards Malfoy's table. He was clearly no longer looking at her. He seemed to be having trouble cutting a small piece off the top of the alienated vegetable with a pair of magic scissors, and at the same time keeping a terrified Parkinson from moving him, as she kept shrieking and shaking his arm, while pointing at the teeth of the hideous plant.

"See you tomorrow, Montague."

"Goodbye, Captain."

"Bye, boys, have a good night," Graham Montague said, holding the Changing Rooms' door open as his Quidditch team stepped outside after a hard training session. The air through the open door was chilly. The boy turned his face to look at the only member still inside. "How much longer, Draco?"

"I still have to change my clothes," the blond young man panted, standing on tiptoe, putting the large wooden crate with the balls in a high cupboard. "Go ahead, I'll close up."

"Okay," Montague agreed, making a move to leave and nearly colliding with a visibly frozen Theodore Nott, who was entering at that moment. "Oh! Hello, Nott, come in. See you tomorrow, guys."

"Bye," Nott said, as the Captain left and closed the door behind him. "What's taking you so long?" he asked, turning to look at Draco. Oddly, he was shivering slightly from the cold outside, but there was an unusual smile on his face. "You're usually one of the first ones out..."

"It was my turn to put the equipment away today," Draco explained, trying with great effort to close the cabinet containing all the Nimbus Two Thousand and One, pushing it shut with his shoulder. "I have to start bringing the wand to practice..."

"May I help you?" his friend offered instantly, pulling his own wand from the inside pocket of his thick winter robes.

"No need — that's it," Draco huffed, managing to close the cabinet, which produced a metallic sound of the lock engaging.

"Great," Nott agreed without wiping away his grin, putting his wand away again. He sat down on one of the benches to stare at his friend, rubbing his cold hands together. "Crabbe and Goyle missed practice again, didn't they? I haven't seen them leave."

"That's right," Draco corroborated, disinterestedly, "they didn't show up today either. Montague was fuming."

"Poor man, they're giving him a lot of trouble," Nott admitted, grimacing, but still smiling. "But the rest of you flew very well. I've been watching the end of practice from the stands. It's a great weather today, isn't it?"

Draco looked at him in disbelief as he sat down next to him to get out of his uniform and change into his normal clothes. It wasn't worth taking a shower. It was Siberian cold outside, which had kept him from sweating despite his hard training, and the light snow that had fallen at one point, leaving him soaked, had left him clean for several days.

"Oh, yes, it's a lovely day. For a swim in the lake, I'd say, if it weren't for the fact that it's frozen," Draco quipped, still looking at him strangely, taking off his knee pads. "What are you so happy about? What's with the stupid grin?"

"What grin?" Nott replied, incredulous.

"The one that goes around your face," the blond specified, raising an eyebrow and removing the arm guards. "I can't remember the last time I saw you this happy... I haven't seen your teeth in a while. What happened to you?"

"Well, I don't know, nothing special," Nott admitted, his tone amused, but he looked down with an impossible-to-hide gleam of excitement in his blue eyes.

"Sure?"

"Sure."

Draco shrugged indifferently, not giving it any more thought, and proceeded to remove his bright green robes without looking at his friend. Nott looked up again to stare at him impatiently for a couple of seconds and then exclaimed, unable to contain himself:

"Okay, well, yes, there is something," he said hastily. Draco looked at him again, slightly surprised. "Since you insist —"

"I didn't insist —" Draco sneered, his friend paying him no heed.

"I happened to be talking to Daphne about the Hogsmeade trip this Saturday, and I finally asked her if she wanted to go with me, just the two of us, and... she said yes," he explained, trying to keep his composure and trying not to sound too excited, though his voice was shaking. "It's... well, great, don't you think? I almost find it hard to believe, to be honest..."

"Did you really ask Greengrass?" Draco replied with open mockery. "You asked her?"

"Why are you surprised by that, you silly?" asked Nott, disappointed at how unenthusiastic his friend was about the wonderful news.

"Mostly because when you say good morning to her, you make a sound like my owl does when it chokes on a mouse," he replied unsympathetically. He took off the jumper he had worn for practice, and went to the wooden cubicle that served as a locker to leave it there. "Besides, what's so brave about asking her on a date to Hogsmeade? You two are dating, by golly, it's only natural that you'd go together... Especially on Valentine's Day."

"Thanks for being so happy for me, mate," Nott mumbled, folding his arms in mock annoyance. But his happy smile gave him away. Nothing Draco could say could get him down. "You know I don't have any experience in having a girlfriend. I'm trying to do the best I can... And these things really embarrass me. I feel like an idiot every time I try to be a bit affectionate."

"I've never had a girlfriend either," Draco mumbled listlessly, leaving the folded jumper in the locker. "But, fuck, I don't find it that complicated..."

"Well, fine, leave me alone, forget it…" Nott sighed. "Just pretend you're happy for me, okay?"

"Sure, I can do that," Draco scoffed, giving an amused smirk that his friend behind his back didn't see. He held up a hand, thumbs up, not looking at him. "I'm glad, mate."

Nott shook his head in dismay, but smiled at the same time. He knew Draco was just pulling his leg.

"And what are you going to do?" Theodore now questioned with interest, in a more normal tone. "Are you going with the boys? Zabini and the others? Or the team?"

"I hadn't really thought about it," Draco muttered after a couple of seconds of silence, suddenly looking a little off. Nott thought he noticed a more subdued tone than usual in his friend, and hastened to add solicitously:

"If you have no other plans, you can come with us, though I imagine you won't feel like being with a couple on a day like this... Daphne told me that Pansy would like to go with you as in other years, since you're both single, but she's a bit embarrassed to tell you. She'd rather you told her, if you feel like it... That's what Daphne told me, at least."

"Yeah... I don't really feel like going with her," Draco muttered, still in the locker, his back to his friend. "In fact, I don't want to go with anyone. I was thinking of staying in the castle and taking advantage of the —"

"Come on, Draco, man, Hogsmeade trips are very rare. It doesn't matter if it's Valentine's Day or not, that's the least of it," Nott interrupted him in a protesting tone, frowning. Surprised at his friend's behaviour, he added, "Listen, why don't you go with Pansy? You could —"

"I said no," Draco replied curtly, staring unseeing into the dark interior of the locker. "I'm not going with her."

"But why? You two have gone together before," Nott was surprised, staring at his friend's blond nape in puzzlement. Seeing that he didn't say anything and still didn't turn around, he added, "Again, it doesn't have to be as a couple; just as friends, like other times, I don't know... Or is something wrong? Have you two had an argument?"

"No, damn it, don't push it, cut it out," he answered abruptly, almost throwing the protections he used for practice into the locker, producing a loud noise.

"Okay," Nott replied, annoyed by his friend's grumpy tone. "Excuse me. I was just trying to be nice. I was telling you what they told me, you do what you want. No need for the attitude..."

Draco let out a slow sigh through his nose and turned around at last, leaning his bare back against the cold wood of the locker, still not looking at his friend but facing him. He looked tired all of a sudden.

"I didn't mean to talk to you like that," Draco muttered, dejectedly, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "I've been nervous lately, and I get angry over nothing..."

"I've noticed that. What's wrong?" Nott wanted to know, undaunted. "You've been in a foul mood since yesterday... And don't you dare tell me 'nothing'. That doesn't fly."

Draco averted his gaze to one side, feeling the fury rising in his throat. He didn't want, under any circumstances, to tell him anything, and yet... He needed to. He'd been feeling for some time that he was going to snap at any moment. That he wasn't able to control anything around him at all. That everything, no matter how hard he tried, was slipping through his fingers. He needed to get some of what was tormenting him out. Or he was going to go mad for good.

"I'm not sure what's happening to me, Nott," he admitted hoarsely. Almost a whisper in the silence of the Changing Room. "I think I'm going insane…" he gasped helplessly and went to sit on the same bench as before, next to his friend. He hadn't even put on a dry jumper yet, but he didn't feel cold.

"You can tell me anything," Nott assured him, also quietly and calmly. He sensed that something was really worrying his friend. "Maybe I can help you… What's wrong?"

"Granger. That's what it's wrong," he muttered, suddenly angry and frustrated in equal measure. Nott looked puzzled for a few seconds.

"Well — that doesn't clarify much," he observed, almost amused. "You two have fought countless times. I know she gets on your nerves, but I don't think it's worth getting overwhelmed like this, is it?"

Draco closed his eyes tightly and pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers, sniffling. He gritted his teeth hard, but had to loosen the pressure after a few seconds before he could speak.

"I can't tell you," he replied, with unexpected firmness. "It doesn't make sense for me to… No, leave it. You wouldn't understand, because I don't understand it myself. It's all pointless bullshit —"

"Draco," Nott sighed heavily, his voice rising slightly, "if you're not going to tell me what's wrong with you, who are you going to tell? Bloody hell, look at you, you're unhinged. What's this all about?"

The young Malfoy looked at his friend at last, almost sidelong. Nott was looking at him seriously, patiently, showing him with his intelligent, sad blue eyes that he would listen to whatever he wanted to tell him. Draco, who had never needed to vent to anyone, even as a child, who had learned to solve all his real problems on his own, who had never asked for help in moments of weakness, felt an unexpected need to be honest with him, to ask him to help him understand what was happening to him. Perhaps he had never been so desperate and confused in his entire life as he was at that moment.

Because this was not a situation that his parents could solve for him.

After a couple of tense seconds, Draco looked straight ahead, surrender etched in his tense expression.

"I don't even know how to begin," he muttered dryly, making a last, lazy attempt to keep from speaking.

"How about the beginning?" Nott replied calmly.

"As if I know how this all started…" Draco muttered, staring into space fiercely, deeply angry with himself. His blood bubbled in his veins and his heart pumped slowly and loudly in his chest and ears. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm telling you the truth. I'm starting to get scared of myself. And I'm starting to get scared of Granger. I can't get her out of my mind. I... I see her everywhere," he shook his head slightly, incredulous, before continuing, "From one day to the next I've caught myself looking for her... I don't understand why I do it. It's unconscious, I don't control it. And when I see her, it's such a... weird feeling. And it's nasty, but… but sometimes I realise it's not exactly nasty, and I hate it, and I think I'm going crazy," he gasped, and gave the bench they were sitting on a weak thump with his fist. "And it's her fault for meddling in my business without anyone inviting her..." He jumped to his feet under the watchful eye of his friend and started pacing around the Changing Room, his voice rising as he spoke, "Damn it, I keep thinking that this is all wrong, that it shouldn't be happening, and nothing is even happening, but I feel like it's all wrong, and I feel like my head's going to explode. And I suddenly realised that this wasn't normal, that she had to be causing it all on purpose, that it had to be her fault... A spell, an Imperius Curse, or something like that... But she denied it, she said she has nothing to do with it, and I don't know if she is lying to me or not. She could perfectly well be lying to me, but, fuck, she didn't seem to know what I was talking about, and… Ugh, damn it, I hate her so much, I swear, and… and… Merlin's beard! Are you going to say something or are you going to wait until I run out of air?"

Draco stood still in the centre of the Changing Room, looking at his friend angrily, breathing hard. Nott was staring at him with slightly raised eyebrows, not saying a word or making any attempt to interrupt him. He seemed so unfazed that Draco was tempted to shake him by the shoulders to get him to react — how could he be so calm when he was about to have a heart attack?

"I don't know what to tell you," Nott finally murmured, scratching his chin. "From everything you're telling me, all I want to do is lock you up in St Mungo's. Straitjacket and all, y'know?"

"I've thought about that possibility too. But, fuck, I'm serious," Draco mumbled, frustrated. Nott shrugged.

"I was serious too..." he assured, with open irony. Seeing Draco give him a look of deep contempt, he added, his voice louder and serious again, "What do you want me to say? It's fucking obvious what's happening to you, and honestly, I need a moment to take it in. You've just blown me away. This is —" he gasped in disbelief, looking away. He added almost to himself, more quietly, as if Draco wasn't there, "This is completely insane. I can't believe what you're telling me."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Draco grew impatient, raising his voice. He was getting tired of his friend's attitude. A spark of understanding suddenly flashed in his grey eyes. "So that's it?" he added with renewed agitation. "Do you also think it's all Granger's fault? Is she doing this to me on purpose? Do you think she put a spell on me? I knew it, damn Mudblood..."

Nott, for a split second, seemed to hesitate between laughing and crying. Finally, he grimaced deeply, then looked at his friend with disdain.

"Obviously, I don't. Don't fuck with me, c'mon. You know perfectly well what's happening to you, stop this. Let's talk seriously," he snapped in exasperation. Draco looked at him again, confused and clearly annoyed.

"Do I look like I know what's happening to me?" he replied resentfully.

"Draco, Merlin's beard, it's totally obvious, I don't buy that you are really trying to fool yourself like that," Nott insisted, looking at him in open disbelief. His blue eyes glittered with impatience. And concern.

"Fooling myself? Are you kidding me? What are you talking about, Theodore?" the blond emphasised, beginning to get seriously annoyed. "Say something sensible, for Merlin's sake!"

Nott just stared at him for a few seconds, gauging him. The dark-haired boy was almost dumbfounded, and it didn't seem clear to him whether his friend was mocking him or not. Seeing the stormy fury in Draco's grey eyes, he seemed to finally consider that he wasn't making fun of him. That his altered state was real. He really didn't know what was happening to him.

"If you're really not getting this, you're hopelessly idiot. And honestly, I feel like punching you," Nott confessed, bluntly, still looking at him as if he couldn't believe his eyes. "Did you really give me a hell of a bollocking for talking to her and a week later you come to me with this? Telling me that you're attracted to her? You're a fucking hypocrite."

It seemed as if an invisible bucket, filled to the brim with snow from outside, had just been hurled at Draco. He looked at his friend with his eyes wide as saucers, his body incredibly tense. Even his knuckles were white. He didn't say anything for a few seconds, as if he expected him to keep talking. Or as if he hadn't heard him. Nott remained silent, waiting patiently for his words to sink in.

"What?" Draco managed to spit out after nearly five seconds, disdainful in shock. He looked at his friend as if he'd lost his mind. "What am I attracted to? Who? Granger? Granger?"

"That's what you just said," Nott replied, undeterred..

"I — what? I didn't say anything like that!" Draco exclaimed, his eyes widening. "What do you mean, I said that? Are you kidding me? I'm talking about Granger, you're not listening, are you?"

His friend clicked his tongue impatiently.

"Yes, thank you, it's quite clear to me. And you, are you listening to yourself?"

"Then why do you say I'm a-attracted to her?" Draco snapped, too upset to answer his question. "Are you making fun of me? She's a… bloody Mudblood! She can't attract me!"

"Allow me to question that," Nott scoffed, letting out a disbelieving, almost unhinged laugh. "Oh, c'mon, Draco, please don't be childish. You're perfectly aware of what you've just told me. What other possible explanation is there?"

"Any!" Draco bellowed, as if it were obvious, his voice an octave higher than normal. "Any coherent explanation! Any explanation that makes any sense! How can you say that and be so pleased with yourself? How can you insult me like that and stay as-is? How… how the hell am I supposed to like a Mudblood? Do you think I'm that sick?"

Nott snorted, incredulously, unperturbed by his words.

"Well, look, yeah, whatever you say," he replied with impatience and disdain. He let out an angry, worried sigh and began drumming his fingers on his thigh as he added, no longer mocking, "Granger, Mudblood or not, is starting to attract you, Draco. No matter how hard you keep shouting that she does not. And you're going to have to fix that. Because, no, you can't be attracted to her. But you are. And you're getting yourself in very, very big mess."

"Will you stop saying that?" Draco roared angrily, pacing around the Changing Room again. "I can't be attracted to Granger, for fuck's sake! You're mental! Stop trying to get your bullshit inside my head! Stop trying to convince me that what you think about Mudbloods could ever be normal! That it might even be possible to talk to those beings! I can hardly believe I have to be clearing something like that up!"

"Draco, you're absolutely right," Nott corroborated with sudden firmness, making him stop pacing and look at him with mild suspicion. "Of course you can't be attracted to Granger. You shouldn't be attracted to her. You can't have anything to do with her because of your situation, because you'd be in deep shit. Because it would be fucking suicide, given your situation."

"Just because of my situation? That's the reason? Oh, so if I wasn't going to become a Death Eater I might well be attracted to that scum, would I?!" Draco yelled, beside himself, looking at him almost deranged. "Merlin's beard! Do you hear yourself? Are you kidding me? I shouldn't be because it's unnatural! You're a nutcase! I asked you for advice, damn it, not to put a bunch of nonsense into my head! This is surreal...! This is Granger we're talking about! She's... a Mudblood! A Gryffindor! It's... disgusting! I'm a pure-blood, and I know exactly where my place is and where hers is!"

A fleeting, distant memory struck Draco's mind, sending a sharp pain through his chest that forced him to mute. He recalled, as if it were yesterday, the sensations that had come over him without knowing why in that first floor bathroom, when Longbottom's plant had dirtied Granger and him. He remembered, with shuddering clarity, how paralysed he had felt at the girl's nearness, his inability to push her away, how he had stared dumbfounded at her filthy Muggle lips...

He felt his heartbeat quicken. He could not tell Nott such a thing, for that was almost like confirming his friend's conclusions. They matched what he was trying to convey. And he couldn't allow himself to think that. Because no, it had to be a coincidence, an absurd exception. He had always trusted his advice, but he couldn't allow Nott to change his mind in this situation.

Because he wasn't right.

The words he himself had spoken weeks ago, in the Stone Circle, flashed through his mind like a bolt of lightning in the middle of a storm.

'I'm not doing it! Not until you tell me what you've done to me. What was it? Amortentia? The one your filthy Weasleys were selling?'

"Are you really absolutely sure that being attracted to Granger, apart from being a huge problem, isn't a remotely valid option?" Nott tried again, pulling him, to his own relief, out of his thoughts. Theodore glared at him, searching for the truth in his eyes. But Draco was unwilling to give him what he wanted.

"No, fuck. Stop… driving me crazy," he begged, already limp, slightly dazed. His own thoughts were upsetting him more than the conversation they were having. "If that's the only option you can think of, you'd better shut up. Anyone can see that's stupid. I shouldn't have said anything to you. You're out of your mind. I should have figured you'd think something like that. I'm a moron."

They both stared at each other for several seconds, both gazes filled with the same stubbornness. Nott shook his head in frustration, and finally looked away first, rubbing his face with both hands.

"You're maddening," Nott mouthed, and he looked up again, his skin flushing slightly from the friction. "Fine. You win, you're right. I don't think it's possible either. You can't even consider feeling something like that, you consider it an aberration, the worst sin to commit, something indecent... and even more so for Granger," he murmured, almost to himself, thinking out loud objectively. He sighed again. "You're right, I'm nuts. This way of thinking is too different from yours. You can't… feel something like that. Not for her."

"Exactly. I don't understand how you could even think about it, what's wrong with you?" Draco corroborated, feeling the oxygen flooding back into his lungs. He felt as if he'd just run a marathon. Nott's rectification made the subtle doubts he'd inflicted on him disappear.

"So, what are you going to do about what you feel?" Nott replied with mild derision, though more reluctantly.

"I told you I don't know," Draco spat, fiercely, though calmer. "It's like... I'm starting to realise she's there. That's all. Like I'm more aware of her presence. And I don't like her presence at all," he emphasised, as if daring him to say otherwise. "Granger has been getting on my nerves so much lately that I think she's already made me obsessed with her. That's it," he added, as if he'd already figured it out. "I should check into it, but I'm sure there's some kind of illness or syndrome from being around Mudbloods for too long, and I've just ended up catching it..."

Nott gave him a look of deep heaviness. He rose to his feet.

"Yeah, that'll be," he huffed, and suddenly looked up at him with renewed firmness. "Look, Draco, I don't know what the hell happened between you two that you've come to feel the way you do, but I'll tell you one thing. Stop this. Whatever way you want, but stop it, do you hear me? Don't fuck up your life in such a stupid way. I know you're not even thinking about it right now, and maybe you never will, but… getting involved with Granger, in any way, would get you into a lot of trouble. It would ruin your life completely."

"Are you laughing at me?" Draco interrupted him with angry bewilderment. "You're saying that to me? You? You're the one who's become her stupid little fella! And you've done it in the full use of your faculties!" he added, emphatically, furiously. "How come I'd fuck up my life and you wouldn't?"

"Because my life can't be fucked up any more," Nott replied calmly, without flinching. Draco fell silent, demurred by the gleam in his friend's eyes. "We've already discussed this. But your situation is different, and you know it. You've got a lot to lose," he added, moving towards the door; he opened it without looking at him. "Finish dressing quickly, I don't want to freeze. I'll wait for you outside."

Draco silently watched him leave and close the door behind him. He looked around at the empty Changing Room almost without seeing it. Suddenly he realised that he was freezing. He was still bare-chested and wearing the trousers he had worn to practice. He closed his eyes tightly, sensing the unbearable silence around him, and kicked the broom cupboard, causing the door to open hopelessly and a couple of them to fall to the floor with a clatter of wood and tiles.

"She's to blame for all this," he thought, clenching his fists until he hurt his palm with his fingernails. "Granger, with her damn habit of meddling in other people's lives, she's the one who caused all this," he snorted and ruffled his blond hair, still damp from the snow outside. "She's bewitched me somehow. She denied it to me last time, but now it's obvious. It's the only coherent answer. Far more coherent than the nonsense Nott's been spouting. Granger almost convinced me of her innocence the other time, but now it's clear, it's clear that I underestimated her. She gave me a fucking love potion or a fucking Imperius Curse. And I'm not going to let her keep it from me any longer. I have to talk to her. Maybe Hogsmeade is the best option, this Saturday. I'm sure she'll be there, I'll manage to corner her alone. There's less chance of anyone seeing us there than here in the castle. I'm not going to let them interrupt us again, like that nasty gamekeeper did. I'll talk to Granger and get her to put an end to this. I have to force her to remove the spell, to let me be myself again. I'm sick of this situation. I'll make her regret what she's done to me, it's not going to stay like this. That Mudblood will pay for this."

Though he didn't want to, though he struggled to block them out, Nott's words were swirling around in his head, muddling with his own thoughts...

'Granger, Mudblood or not, is starting to attract you, Draco. No matter how hard you keep shouting that she does not.'

'You can't have anything to do with her because of your situation, because you'd be in deep shit. Because it would be fucking suicide, given your situation.'

'Look, Draco, I don't know what the hell happened between you two that you've come to feel the way you do, but I'll tell you one thing. Stop this. Whatever way you want, but stop it, do you hear me?'

'I know you're not even thinking about it right now, and maybe you never will, but… getting involved with Granger, in any way, would get you into a lot of trouble. It would ruin your life completely.'

Draco plopped down sitting on the bench, still too stunned by everything he'd been through to start getting dressed. In the solitude of the place, he covered his face with his hands, wondering how it was possible that even Nott was clearer than he was about what he should do.