I Had a Bad Day

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That evening

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Harry looked up eagerly, plucking a blue pixie from his hair as Draco’s owl lighted on his windowsill, gently removing the note tied to the owl’s leg as Hedwig moved over to accommodate the new bird.

Ron looked up from the Quidditch statistics of his Chudley Cannons calendar in surprise when a colorful curse escaped Harry’s lips. "What’s up, Harry?"

"I can’t believe him! It’s our anniversary, and he cancelled?"

"What? Why would he do that?" Ron frowned, sitting up and staring at Harry, whose shoulders slumped in dejection.

"He doesn’t even give me a reason… just ‘I had a bad day today’."

"That doesn’t sound right at all," Ron declared, getting up and looking over Harry’s shoulder at the note. "Seeing you usually makes him feel better."

"I always thought it did. What brought this on?"

"Well," Ron began mischievously; "There’s always the possibility that he’s just being a bastard. You know, like the past six months have been a game, and he’s bored?"

Harry shot Ron a dark look. "Thank you so much for the support, Ron. Really. Your sympathy amazes me." Harry’s hands clenched into tight fists, and he stalked out of the room, leaving a puzzled Ron looking blankly at his friend’s retreating back.

"It was a joke, Harry," Ron said softly to the empty room. "Draco loves you. It was just a joke…"

~*~*~*~*~*~

That morning

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Draco woke up to the unpleasant sensation of suffocating in an ocean of pink hearts and congratulations. Little pink pixies were singing mawkish love songs in his ear while clinging tenaciously to strands of his hair. His shout of horror and subsequently inelegant scramble out of bed sent his waiting friends into peals of laughter.

"What is the meaning of this??" he fumed, glaring at Blaise as he plucked the pixies out of his hair.

"Do you like it?" the other boy asked, blithely ignoring Draco’s irritation. "The pixies were Pansy’s idea, but the hearts were mine."

"I’m going to have Crabbe and Goyle kill you." Draco declared calmly, and then turned to find Crabbe and Goyle with matching grins on their faces.

"The pixies are pretty, Draco," Crabbe said.

"Relax!" Goyle patted Draco’s shoulder heartily, causing the smaller boy to crumple to the ground under the weight of his hand. "It is your anniversary with Potter, after all," he finished hastily under Draco’s glower.

"So does that automatically make today Torture Draco Day?"

"It’s not torture!" Blaise declared adamantly.

Draco stood up and arched an eyebrow, dusting off his silk pajamas. "I never realized that Slytherins’ would lower themselves to juvenile pranks-" Draco distastefully removed another pixie, "-and pink."

"We don’t, usually. But this was too good to pass up! If it makes you feel any better, the Gryffindors’ are doing the same thing to Harry."

Draco cocked his head to the side and gnawed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. "Yes, that might make up for my humiliation." Draco shooed his friends away and got dressed, tugging everything impatiently into place. He cringed as he heard a loud rip, and groaned in disbelief at the torn seam down his side. "Bloody hell! Crabbe!"

Crabbe’s head popped out from behind the door. "Yes, Draco?"

"I ripped my robe. Could I transfigure one of yours for the day?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure."

"Thank you." Draco grumbled irritably as he shrugged out of the robe, eyeing the seam maliciously. Father really must talk to Madame Malkin about giving her shop to a younger witch. Her quality is faltering.

Twenty minutes later than usual, Draco made it down to the Slytherin common room, where he found Pansy and Blaise grinning at him as he brushed another pixie away. "Why won’t these things leave?" he growled at Pansy, who smiled innocently and looped arms with Blaise.

"They’re bespelled, of course. Don’t worry; it’s only for a day."

Draco opened his mouth to retort when a wave of dizziness overcame him, weakness buckling his knees under his weight. He blinked rapidly as the weakness passed, and found himself being held up by Crabbe and Goyle, who were both looking at him in concern.

"Are you okay?" Blaise asked urgently, touching his friend’s forehead for any sign of fever.

Draco batted Blaise’s hand away from his forehead, wrinkling his nose in distaste. "I’m fine, I’m fine. I was just a little dizzy. All better now, yes?" Draco pulled away from Crabbe and Goyle and straightened his hair, which had annoyingly flung itself over one eye. "Let’s go to breakfast, now. I’m starving!"

On the way up the stairs, one of the pixies got over excited with Draco’s movement and zoomed against his foot as he raised it to take another step. He fell back startled, only to be caught by Pansy. "Mordred, Draco! Be careful! If I hadn’t been here, you could have really hurt yourself!"

Draco gave her a winning grin. "Well, then I’m lucky you were here, huh?"

Blaise glared at Draco. "You have Potter, Malfoy. Don’t start turning the charm on Pansy."

"Of course not," Draco acknowledged artlessly. "No charm for the flower."

"Awww." Pansy pouted, punching Blaise’s shoulder. "Not fair. I don’t stop Millicent from flirting with you!"

"You’re not in danger of having Millicent steal me away, Pansy!"

"Hello? Gay man?"

"Would you mind not having this conversation while I’m around?" Draco asked, aggrieved. "Honestly!"

"You know you love us!" Pansy threw her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek.

"No! Girl germs!" Draco grinned and pushed her away, rubbing at his cheek. "Hey, this stuff isn’t coming off!"

"Oh, Draco, you’re smearing it all over!"

"What is it?"

"It’s only lipstick!"

"Great." Draco rolled his eyes. "Now I have this huge red smear on my cheek. Can this day get any worse?" The Slytherins all laughed and made their way to the Great Hall without any further mishaps. Draco froze as he saw Harry, laughing with his Gryffindor friends as he pulled blue pixies out of his hair with an amused glance at Seamus.

Draco’s jaw worked for a moment, his forehead creasing in disbelief. Blue pixies? Harry Potter had gotten BLUE pixies? Draco’s eyes narrowed suddenly, and he turned on his heel to head to the Slytherin table, batting the pixies around him furiously.

"Draco!" Harry called, but Draco huffed, looking down at his plate. Pansy and Blaise gave Draco an odd look as they sat down, and he glowered at them for good measure. Harry ignored the catcalls as he made his way over to the Slytherin table, looking inquisitively at his boyfriend. "What’s wrong?"

Draco glared at Harry, who grinned impishly at Draco and pulled him into a hug, sitting on the bench with him. "Get away! I don’t want to hug you!" Draco insisted, pushing at Harry’s shoulder.

A dimple played on Harry’s cheek as his grin deepened. "But I like hugging you, Draco."

"I don’t care."

"What’s up, Dray? Come on and tell me."

Draco shot a glance at the dark haired boy and grabbed one of the blue pixies around Harry and one of the pink pixies around himself, shaking them in front of Harry’s face. "I am not-" Draco began, his voice low, "-I am not the girl in this relationship, Potter."

There was a moment of stunned silence, and then Harry laughed, his eyes sparkling. "You have lipstick on your face," he declared lightly.

"I’m serious, Harry! I am just as much of a guy as you are! But you got blue. I got pink! PINK!! Name one thing that turned me into the girl of this relationship! One thing!"

"Well," Harry considered, "You did cry while watching A Walk to Remember, you know, when Landon found out that Jamie was dying..?"

"That was different!" Draco contended hastily, seeing the looks the other Slytherins were giving him. "I thought-well, ‘Mione told me it was based on a true story, and-"

"Oh, so that’s why she was so amused," Harry considered thoughtfully. "Makes sense." Harry paused, and grinned at Draco again. "If it really bothers you that much, here." Harry grabbed a handful of pink pixies and stuck them in his hair, grabbing a handful of blue ones and depositing them on Draco’s head. "Is that better?"

Draco tilted his head, slightly cross-eyed as he stared into the eyes of a curious blue pixie. "Dubiously."

Harry watched him stare at the pixie for a moment before tapping his shoulder. "Do I get a hug now?"

Draco shrugged. "Whatever."

"Can I toss you onto the table and have my wicked way with you in front of everyone?"

"If you must."

Harry laughed, inching closer, pulling the pixie away from Draco. "You know, this icy demeanor thing you've got going on? It's really turning me on."

"Oh," Draco blinked, looking archly at the other boy. "And here I thought you liked me for my rapier wit and dazzling charisma."

"That too." Harry kissed Draco, raising his head and glaring at Colin as the flash of a camera went off. "Colin!" Harry lunged toward the younger boy, and Draco yelped, jumping back as Harry accidentally knocked a cup of coffee off the table.

"Shit, Harry!" Draco growled, waving his burned hand slightly. "Thanks a lot."

"I’m sorry!" Harry took Draco’s hand gently and examined it. "You’ll be okay." He kissed the burn softly.

Draco glowered. "I’m not going to be okay. I’m going to scar. And it will be all your fault that I have a blemish on my perfect skin. You know I have a low pain threshold, Harry! I’m going to be in agony all day!"

"You’ll be fine, Draco." Harry rolled his eyes tolerantly before kissing his boyfriend again and moving back to the Gryffindor table.

Draco huffed again. "That shows what he knows." His stomach decided to rumble ferociously at him, and Draco dismissed the pain as he began to eat breakfast. A blue pixie fell next to his plate, and he grinned, almost floating with happiness. Seeing Harry had made his day wonderful, despite the misfortune he’d suffered that morning.

But Draco’s bad luck didn’t stop there. He tripped and broke a bootlace on the way to Care of Magical Creatures, lost his homework for Defense of Dark Arts, and discovered he had failed his Transfiguration exam, despite having studied for it several weeks before.

He allowed himself a sigh of relief as he reached Potions. This was his best and favorite class-surely nothing would go wrong in there. Draco gratefully sank onto a stool and set up his cauldron, allowing the scent of herbs to calm him down. He needed a long, hot bath and a body massage, that’s all there was to it.

Harry, on the other hand, was looking as if he was having the day of his life, smiling brightly at Draco as he dropped a note next to his hand, making his way to his seat. Draco’s heart swelled happily-eight months ago, he wouldn’t have allowed himself to feel so deeply, but he had finally been given a chance, and he would be damned if he would waste it moping in self-pity when he could be snogging Harry.

"Mr. Malfoy." Draco’s head shot up curiously at Professor Snape’s tone. "I will need to see you after class." Draco frowned thoughtfully and nodded, shrugging when Harry caught his eye. Snape inclined his head in acknowledgment and began his lesson.

Draco had just begun to add the crushed beetle shells into the lavender essence when the wave of weakness crashed over him again, causing his hand to tremble uncontrollably, crushed beetle spilling on to the work table. Draco set down the vial and smiled sweetly at his partner as he hid his hands underneath the table, hiding his unease. "Goyle, you’ll mix everything together, right? I want to see how well you’re doing, since I’m tutoring you in this class."

Goyle followed Draco’s directions to the letter, beaming when Draco patted his shoulder in approval. The rest of the students poured out into the hall, and Draco gathered his things, cocking his head to the side as he looked at Professor Snape.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" he questioned as the last student left the room.

Snape didn’t meet Draco’s eyes. "Professor Dumbledore wants to talk to you. I’m taking you to his office."

"Can I put my things in my room, first?" he asked, his stomach icing in dread. Snape nodded brusquely, and Draco hurried to his room, putting his things on his bed before hurrying back to Professor Snape. They walked in silence to Dumbledore’s, and the tension was so thick that Draco didn’t even snort at Dumbledore’s password (Gummi Bears).

"Come in here, Draco," Snape requested as they reached Dumbledore’s inner office, breaking the silence suddenly.

"Professor, what is this about?" Draco placed a hand cautiously on Snape’s sleeve.

"We have something to tell you." Headmaster Dumbledore replied, his blue eyes devoid of their usual twinkle.

"Sir?" Draco removed his hand from Professor Snape, who took a place to the left of the Headmaster.

"Please sit, Mr. Malfoy," Headmaster Dumbledore gestured toward the seat in front of him and Draco sat down gingerly, the Adam’s apple in his throat bobbling slightly. Dumbledore steepled his hands and peered at Draco over his fingertips. "How are you feeling, Draco?"

"I’m feeling fine, sir." Draco glanced up at Professor Snape, who stared steadily at a point beyond Draco’s shoulder. "Why am I here?" Draco paused, looking around at the faces of the two professors before casting his eyes down to his shoes. "This isn’t just a routine, ‘How are you doing?’ session, is it?" He hesitated. "It’s about Aeger."

Dumbledore sighed. "Yes, it is about the Aeger Magicus. Eight months ago, you went to St. Mungo’s and had the new treatment applied, did you not?"

"Yes, and it’s helped so much! It doesn’t hurt to do magic anymore, my grades in Transfiguration are up, and it’s amazing in Charms--"

"And you haven’t been experiencing any weakness?" Snape asked curtly.

Draco’s fingers clenched white on the arms of his chair, and he nodded once. "Recently, I’ve been a little weak, but it’s just because I’m doing so much and-"

"Mr. Malfoy-"

"-and-and Quidditch practice has really picked up!" Draco interrupted the Headmaster hastily. "And Professor McGonagall has been assigning a lot of long essays that take me hours to complete, so I don’t always get enough sleep-"

"Draco-"

"And I admit that I might be spending just a little too much time with Harry, and not enough time studying Herbology, but Longbottom is a whiz at it, and I know he’ll help me-"

"Draco." Draco’s tirade faltered to a stop, and he looked at Dumbledore with luminous eyes. "Draco, we have received the results from St. Mungo’s. I’m sorry." The air escaped Draco’s lungs, and he slumped into his chair as Dumbledore continued. "The treatment didn’t work. If anything, your immune system has doubled its efforts to destroy the genes intrinsic in your magic."

"It… didn’t work…? But…" Draco swallowed and looked down at his hands. "It doesn’t hurt anymore, isn’t that something?"

"You’ve entered the critical stage." Dumbledore paused, looking compassionately at the boy in front of him. "You’re not going to hurt anymore. The Aeger has spread throughout your body, and it’s destroying the foundation of your magic." Dumbledore circled his desk and placed his hand gently on Draco’s shoulder. "You’re dying, Draco."

Unable to bear looking into Dumbledore’s sympathetic eyes, Draco stared at Snape in resignation. "How much time do I have left, Professor?"

Snape’s face, already so shielded it resembled a stone, shuttered further. "A few months, a few weeks. We can’t know for sure."

"I see."

Snape reached out and grasped Draco’s other shoulder. "It’s up to you, what you want to do. Do you want to go home now, or do you want to stay here?"

Draco took a deep breath. "I…think… I’d like to stay here, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble."

Dumbledore smiled warmly. "It wouldn’t be any trouble at all, Mr. Malfoy. I will endeavor to make the remainder of your time here comfortable."

"Thank you sir." Draco stood to go, but Dumbledore forestalled him with a lift of his hand.

"Perhaps you should tell Mr. Potter about-"

"Thank you for your concern, Headmaster," Draco said coolly. "I’ll tell him in my own time." He nodded once at Snape and left Dumbledore’s office.

Draco wandered the cool stone halls, his galloping heart at odds with his slow, even steps. Eventually, he made his way down to his dorm, and frowned as he saw Harry’s note on his bedspread, an innocent reminder of all the secrets that still lay between them.

I can’t wait to see you tonight, Draco! Happy Anniversary!

Love, Harry

Draco traced the letters with his fingers, stroking the paper as he prepared to pen his response. A sob threatened to escape his throat.

Harry,

I can’t come tonight. You wouldn’t understand. I’m sorry…

Draco dashed away the moisture at the corner of his eye and took a deep breath. There were so many things he had to say-- so many words that begged to be scrawled that would send Harry running straight for his arms, so many things that now would never be said. There were so many things that had to be screamed and wept and denied… And yet, this was the one time he couldn’t go to Harry, as much as he desperately wanted-needed-to. Maybe tomorrow he could put on his mask and pretend everything was okay, but tonight… tonight was for mourning.

…I had a bad day today.

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