Russian Roulette

[Chapter Four: Burn Out]

(Present time...)

{I envy your demise;

I hope it's all you dreamed it would be,

One bullet in this gun,

Not sure if it's for you or me...}

"Malfoy, would you please shut your mouth?" Harry said, for what felt like the seven hundredth time that day. "You're really beginning to grate on my nerves, and I mean it this time."

Harry was currently walking to lunch, after a particularly stressful morning, during which he had failed a Transfiguration exam, gotten yelled at by Filch for being in the hallway after the bell rang, and accidentally exploded a Potion in Slughorn's class. Needless to say, his nerves were already on edge, and the fact that he was in the company of both Draco and Hermione didn't help matters at all.

The two of them just simply didn't seem to be able to stay within the same corridor (let alone room) with one another without getting into some sort of stupid argument, during which insults were thrown back and forth at an incredible rate. And most of the time, it was Draco who started said arguments, so Harry wasn't too happy with him at the moment.

"Oh, come on, Harry," Draco scoffed haughtily, "you know I don't mean it."

"Be that as it may, it still bothers me, as I've told you countless times."

"But it's just a bit of petty name-calling, right Granger?" Draco responded, leaning forward slightly to look at Hermione, who was walking on Harry's other side. When she didn't answer, but merely glared back, Harry got even angrier.

"I get the distinct impression that you're the only one able to make light of this, Malfoy," Harry grumbled. "Most people don't enjoy being picked on."

"He's right, you know," Hermione sniffed in an insulted, yet dignified, manner.

Draco sighed in resignation, rolling his eyes. "Fine then, I'll stop if you care that much." His tone was patronizing, and that fact made Harry narrow his eyes angrily. However, he didn't say anything, and continued to walk down the long hallway, with the awkward silence hovering around him and settling on his shoulders like thick dust.

[//]

Later that day, the same three were walking back to the Gryffindor Common Room after dinner, this time accompanied by Ron as well. When Harry told Hermione that Draco was coming back to Gryffindor with them, and that there was nothing she could say to stop them, she went into lecture mode.

"Harry, be reasonable. You have classes tomorrow, and I'm positive you have loads of homework to do, and you can't really afford such a huge distraction! Am I the only one who's noticed that you've been waking up later and later, missing breakfast, and even coming late to your first class? You need to get--"

"Granger!" Draco shouted furiously, cutting her off in the middle of her sentence. "Why must you interfere every time something is going right between me and Harry? Would you just bugger off for once, and leave us the fuck alone?"

"Draco..." Harry warned, glaring at blond, who happened to be getting angrier by the second, as he was letting out weeks of pent up rage. It was apparent to everyone listening to his rant that he had been positively aching to mouth off at Hermione for a very long time, and he was finally getting his chance. However, as much as Harry felt that she deserved it, he really needed to stick by what he had said earlier about not getting into confrontations with his friends.

Draco either didn't understand why Harry was warning him, or simply didn't care. "As for you, Harry," Draco said, turning his head instantly. "If you didn't let her push you around so much, she might actually give up and shut her filthy little Mudblood mouth! You're letting her control you, like some pathetic mutt, and normally I wouldn't mind, but since it's affecting me--well, I'd say I just might start minding, if I haven't already!" Draco seemed to be done, his eyes narrowed into sharp slits, glaring daggers at Hermione.

Harry stopped walking. "Malfoy?" he said, looking Draco directly in the eye. When Draco looked at him expectantly, Harry balled his hands into fists, gritted his teeth, and uttered, "shut the fuck up."

With that, Harry abruptly started walking again, except it wasn't walking so much as storming. He angrily stomped through the hallway at double his previous speed, leaving the other three just staring after him. Now, normally Draco wouldn't let something as trivial as "shut the fuck up" deter him, but he wasn't sure if he had ever seen Harry quite this angry before, even all those times they had fought as rivals. Part of him really didn't blame Harry for his outburst--he really did have a stressful day, and what Draco said must have been the last straw.

But Draco knew better than to follow him.

After a few moments, Draco remembered that Ron and Hermione were still there, and promptly turned to see their reactions. Hermione seemed to be trying to hide a smile of triumph (but not succeeding sufficiently), while Ron was merely staring at Draco with his mouth agape, probably unaware of the fact that he looked like a drunk baboon. Draco rolled his eyes at the pair, and turned around, figuring he wouldn't be going to the Gryffindor dorms after all.

"See you around then, Granger, Weasley," Draco threw over his shoulder as he walked back to Slytherin. With complete composure, he returned to his dorm and lounged casually on his bed, looking for all the world as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. This wasn't an act, either--Draco wasn't worried in the least. He and Harry had been through many arguments, obviously, and there shouldn't be anything for him to worry about. After a few hours, or the next day tops, Harry would go over to him and start talking as if nothing had changed.

However, the following day, Draco found out just how wrong his assumption was. He walked into the Great Hall, his eyes searching for Harry and, as usual, not finding him. So Draco went about his routine and sat at the Slytherin table, keeping his eyes on the door and waiting for Harry to walk in. This was when Draco noticed something was different; usually, when Harry enters the Great Hall in the morning, he looks at Draco and smiles. Today, however, his eyes remained staring straight ahead of him, and his face remained impassive. Draco tried to catch his eye by waving, or standing up pointedly, but still Harry stubbornly refused to look his way. The only smile Draco saw upon his lips was directed towards his friends as they greeted him.

Draco got annoyed. He was not accustomed to being ignored, especially not by someone who he respected, like he respected Harry. On the way out of the Great Hall, Harry walked at a brisk pace, not bothering to even look in Draco's direction. Draco had to jog to keep up with him, and when he finally caught up, Harry didn't so much as acknowledge his presence.

"Harry! Harry!" Draco called, still walking at a fast pace in an attempt to keep up with Harry. "Oh, come on, Potter! You can't just go on ignoring me like that!"

Harry finally turned around, his eyes ablaze with anger. "Oh yeah?" he said defiantly. "Just watch me." With that, he spun around and continued to walk. But Draco wasn't about to give up that easily.

"What's with all this, then?" he practically whined, trying to get Harry to look at him. "You can't still be mad about yesterday!"

"I obviously am, Malfoy, so either say something useful or go bugger off!"

"But we've had loads of fights before, and you never ignored me then!" Draco complained.

"Maybe I've finally realized that you've been kicking me around, and maybe I've finally gotten sick of it! And maybe I think you need a lesson on how to deal with people, and you need to learn that nobody lives to serve you!" Harry spat, his glasses glinting menacingly.

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry," Draco said, in the most apologetic voice he could muster, which, as it turns out, wasn't very apologetic at all.

"You're just saying that so I'll speak to you again. Well, you know what Malfoy? I'm tired of your stupid games, and I'm tired of this damned cycle you've forced me into! You say something rude, I get mad, you apologize, I accept it, you say something rude, I get mad, you apologize... well, this time I'm not accepting it until you find a better way of showing me that you really are sorry!"

Harry walked away, and Draco stared after him, dumbstruck.

[//]

This is no problem, Draco assured himself later as he stared at his bed curtains. No, really. It's really, really, no problem. It's not like Potter will actually go through with this whole thing. He'll miss me too much, and then he'll come back to me, and he'll be the one begging forgiveness. Draco smiled maliciously at that thought. It was something he'd never get over, really--he always felt the need to one-up Harry, even though their rivalry was supposedly over. He still craved the feeling of victory over the other boy, and it would seriously damage his pride if he had to do something as loathsome as apologize. True, he had done it many times before, but the whole point of that was that he never actually meant it. Potter had been right about one thing--he wasn't being sincere, and never had been. It would take more than a pout from The Boy-Who-Lived to get Draco to grovel.

Draco turned over in his bed and closed his eyes, willing himself to fall asleep. He had a slight feeling of unease in his stomach, but aside from that, he was pretty much okay. Well, he did feel guilty. And he actually wanted to apologize for once, but he blamed this on the Love Potion. Draco was especially thankful that Love Potions had no effect on his actions, because if they had, he would already be groveling.

[//]

(Seven years earlier--1990)

"Draco! Are you even listening to me?" His father's cold voice abruptly snapped Draco out of his daydream, in which he was riding on his broom over a calm lake on a clear, sunny day.

"Yes, Father," Draco responded morosely, turning his gaze to the floor from where it previously rested somewhere above his father's left shoulder.

"Good," Lucius responded, his voice taking on a threatening tone. He had announced to Draco earlier that day that he was to show Draco something very important, and he was obviously getting agitated since Draco didn't find what he was saying too riveting. "Anyway, as I was saying, this is possibly the most important room in the entire Manor. Do you know why, Draco?"

Draco took a moment to look around, reminding himself where he stood. "Er, no, not really." They were standing in the middle of a room Draco had never been in before; his father had led him through several secret passages that Draco hadn't known existed in order to get here. It seemed like a very plain room to Draco, compared to some of the others in the Manor--it was filled with dusty artifacts, and old bookshelves, and faded velvet cushions with antique relics resting atop them. Although he hadn't paid much attention to how he and his father had gotten there, Draco suspected that they were underground, for there were no windows, and the only light was coming from a single levitating candle above their heads. The air in the room held a sort of sacred, old quality to it; the dust seemed to carry secrets that weren't ever going to be told.

"You don't know," Lucius repeated. "Well, take a look around you! Does this look like any ordinary room in the Manor to you?"

"No," Draco said stoutly, pouting impatiently. He was nine years old--nearly ten, and all he wanted to do was play, not take a tour of a dusty room with his boring father.

"Draco, honestly," Lucius snapped, "I'm showing you this for a reason, the least you could do is pretend to care!"

"Fine."

"Well, as I'm sure you can tell, everything in this room is extremely old, and extremely valuable. A few things in here were even given to me by the Dark Lord, himself!" Draco's eyes widened in mixed fear and amazement as Lucius pulled a leather-bound book off a shelf and showed it to Draco, instructing him not to touch it. "See? The Dark Lord trusts me with some very important items, and I've brought you here so you can be aware of it. Also, I think it would be wise if some of the more... curious items were to be looked after by you."

Draco looked up at Lucius, his eyes widening even further. "Me? Really?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Yes, really. I trust you Draco; you may be young, but I believe you to be responsible enough to help me out when it comes to certain things. Now, you see this over here?" Lucius was now handling a fine gold chain, from which hung a circular pendant with a hinge and a clasp.

Draco looked closely at the object. It seemed like an ordinary locket to him, but at the same time, when he looked at it, he got a feeling of foreboding in his stomach. Every time he got too close, something in his chest fluttered, and he instantly stepped away.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Lucius was saying somewhat reverently.

"I suppose," Draco whispered, his eyes still wide from the feeling the locket was giving him.

"Well, this is one of the things I'd like you to look after. See that box over there?" Lucius indicated a cardboard box that was slightly bigger than Draco's head. It was overflowing with things, some of which Draco was sure were junk.

Draco nodded in response to his father's question. "Well, I'd like to take that box up to your room and help you hide it somewhere. This locket is to stay in the box, along with everything else inside of it. You are to tell nobody of its whereabouts. Do you understand, Draco?"

"Yes..." Draco said, knowing better than to hesitate answering. "But why? I don't understand why."

Lucius narrowed his eyes. "Draco, that's none of your business. I suppose you'll find out some day, but until then you must keep your nose out of things that aren't your business. Now, take this locket while I carry the box up to your room. Handle it gently, now."

As soon as the locket touched Draco's skin, he felt a surge of magic emanating from it in waves. However, he found himself unsurprised. His father had many items that could be considered powerful, and he didn't dwell on it too much.

Once the locket was tucked into the box, and both were buried in a dark corner of his closet, Draco forgot about them, never realizing just how important they were.

[//]

(Present Time)

{Well I find it hard to stay

With the words you say;

Baby let me in...}

Surprisingly, when it came to their little argument, Harry was actually doing far better than Draco. Sure, he was a bit uneasy about the whole thing, and slightly worried, but he also felt strangely empowered. He found himself looking forward to having to see Draco, just so he could not talk to him.

Harry wasn't disappointed the next day at breakfast. Draco seemed to be respecting Harry's wishes and not bothering him, but Harry saw him casting wary looks at him through the corner of his eye nearly the entire time. Harry managed to stay true to his plan and not look back at Draco, which was a lot harder than it sounds. But at the same time, just the thought that Draco was trying to catch his eye made Harry happy somehow; it meant that maybe his plan was working after all, and Draco cared enough to maybe do something about the situation before it got out of hand.

However, the novelty of it all wore off after the first week or so. At first, Harry's friends tried to stay out of it--they really did--but after this initial week, they began to get worried. As Harry was no longer enjoying the feeling of hanging something over Draco's head, he was beginning to get depressed, and bored, and neither of them could stand for that (even though Harry constantly told them to stay out of things that weren't their business).

Surprisingly, Ron was the one to bring it up. It was Thursday morning, exactly a week after the initial incident, and Harry was morosely poking at his runny scrambled eggs and trying not to look at the Slytherin table. Abruptly, Ron dropped his fork with a clatter, and rolled his eyes at Harry in a very obnoxious manner.

"Alright, how long are you going to pretend nothing's wrong before you tell us what's happened?" Upon hearing this, Hermione closed the book she had been reading and looked up, apparently deciding this would be an important discussion and studying could wait until later.

Harry looked up as well, a genuinely surprised expression on his face. "What are you talking about?" he said sharply, not convincing anyone.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that," Ron said in response, waving Harry's question off. "There's obviously something wrong, as I haven't caught you and your ferrety lover snogging recently. Not that I'm complaining or anything, as it's not something I enjoy watching, but it seems to be bothering you and that's not good."

"How very thoughtful of you, Ron," Harry said sarcastically, slumping in his seat in a generally depressed fashion.

"Harry, cut the crap and tell us what's happened," Hermione said sharply, making Harry twitch, as he hadn't noticed she'd been listening.

"You already know what's happened, you were there!" Harry said harshly, crossing his arms defensively.

"What, that stupid little tiff you had last week?" Ron said incredulously. "Please, you're going to get depressed over that?"

"Nobody said I was depressed!" Harry shot back. "I'm just taking a stand and not letting him kick me around anymore! You must have heard me yelling at him, I was pretty sure the whole school did."

"No, Harry, we didn't. We're not that nosy that we eavesdrop on the conversations you have with your boyfriend," Hermione sighed.

"Oh, is that what he is to me?" Harry said resentfully.

Hermione either didn't hear him or chose not to. "So what did you say to him?"

"I told him I was sick of his bullshit, and I was sick of him telling me he was sorry when he wasn't. That's all."

Hermione stared at him intently for a moment, and then spoke. "Under normal circumstances, I'd say that was great, but I don't think that's the best thing you could do right now."

"What do you mean?" Harry said, beginning to get fed up. "Stop being so cryptic."

"Well, I'm just saying, under these circumstances, don't you think it's a bad idea to stop talking to him for an indefinite amount of time? I mean, in a way, it could be for the better, but then again, it could make things get worse."

"Thanks Hermione, that was loads more straightforward."

Hermione scoffed indignantly and fidgeted in her seat. "Do I have to spell it out for you? You have supposedly taken a Love Potion. One that is going to wear off in under a month. What if your little silent treatment lasts over that month? That way the relationship will end itself, and that's sort of good, but at the same time, it will leave the both of you with unresolved issues. By the time the Potion wears off, they will be issues you're not going to want to resolve. But believe me, they will come up again, and you'll regret this. From what I saw, I could tell you and Draco had something good going on, and you're going to throw that away over a little argument?"

"It's not a little argument, Hermione, this has to do with my self esteem, and the fact that I don't like to be pushed around!"

"I understand that Harry. But do you at least see my point?"

Harry sighed. "Yes."

"Good. I'm doing my best not to interfere, but if this goes on for much longer, I think I'll have no choice."

"Fine. Look, I'm sure it's not going to last as long as you're thinking. I'm sure he'll just apologize in a few days, and we can move on with our lives."

"That's all you're waiting for? An apology?" Ron interjected. "Harry, in the six years you've known Malfoy, has he ever apologized for anything sincerely?"

"No, not that I can think of... but still, I'm sure he'll be able to, if not just once."

"Yeah, we'll see about that Harry," Ron said, getting up and leaving the Great Hall for his first class.

Harry turned to Hermione, who was still sitting at the table, now re-opening her book. "Why are you two so interested in my love life? You were the one trying desperately to get me and Draco to abstain, and this pretty much solves your problem!"

Hermione closed her book again. "That's true, but I hate to see you upset, Harry, especially when you're practically doing it to yourself." With that, she got up and followed Ron out of the room.

"I'm upset?" Harry asked himself, finally giving in to temptation and casting a look at the Slytherin table.

Draco had been staring at him.

[//]

Another week passed, and nothing had changed at all. Harry was just thankful that Slughorn had not made them brew any Potions in class lately (they hadn't had any practical lessons for a while), for Draco was Harry's Potions partner, and that would have led to awkwardness, as they still weren't talking.

Harry was still avoiding Draco, and it was simply killing him. He didn't know if it was because of the Potion, or something else, but either way it wasn't fun. Hermione was noticing, too. Whenever she saw him moping in the common room, she'd send him a pointed look that clearly said "You could be snogging someone right now if you'd just talk to him." Whenever she did this, Harry would just mope in another direction.

Finally, Hermione couldn't take it anymore. She came up with a devious scheme, conveniently forgetting to tell Harry about it. The thing was, Draco was in Hermione's Arithmancy class--a perfect opportunity to speak to him while Harry wasn't there.

Hermione had been watching Draco closely for over a week, and she started to notice subtleties that indicated this fight was affecting him as much as it was affecting Harry, if not more. He was beginning to develop dark circles under his eyes, which was quite scary against his porcelain skin. His hair looked like he had paid far less attention to it, and the ends were beginning to curl in a way that probably drove him crazy. His clothes looked slightly rumpled, and his usually meticulously filed nails were slightly uneven and ragged, as if he had been biting them. While Harry's obvious depression showed through his actions, perhaps Draco's was reflected in his appearance.

The next day in Arithmancy, Hermione arrived early. Draco was already there, but the seat next to him was still empty. So Hermione took it.

"Hello, Malfoy," she said brightly, beginning to unpack her books, turning to the board in the front of the room to read what was on it.

"Granger," Draco said curtly, yet Hermione heard the suspicion in his voice. When Hermione didn't offer any explanation in her choice in seating, Draco asked. "What are you doing here?"

Hermione wasn't going to let him off that easy. "Well, in case you haven't noticed, I'm in this class too," she said lightly, now copying the notes.

"Well, yes, I've noticed," Draco said.

"Oh, Malfoy, I didn't know you cared!" Hermione said in a mock-flattered voice.

"Please, you're rather hard to ignore, as your hand's in the air half the time! What I meant was, what are you doing sitting here?"

"I thought it'd be appropriate for us to get a bit more comfortable with one another, as my best friend is dating you," Hermione said, still not looking at Draco in favor of copying notes.

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, Potter and I haven't been on the best of terms lately," Draco said grimly.

"Ah, finally we're getting somewhere!" Hermione said brightly.

"What? I knew you had an ulterior motive!" Draco said accusingly.

"Of course I do. Why else would I be speaking with you?" As soon as Hermione said this, she clapped her hand over her mouth. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out like that."

"It's alright," Draco said morosely, leaning on one of his hands and yawning. "I'm too tired for an argument, anyway."

"Are you, now?" Hermione said curiously. "Have you been losing sleep over this?" she said, pure sympathy in her voice now.

"Yes," Draco said without thinking. Then he paused. "Why am I telling you this?"

"Because I've asked. And you probably want this stupid fight between you and Harry over with, am I right?"

"Maybe," Draco said stubbornly. Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "Alright, yes."

Hermione smiled brightly again, and instantly went into a ramble. "Well the whole losing-sleep-thing is interesting, because just the opposite has happened with Harry. Practically all he's been doing is sleeping. I mean, he goes to bed at eight on school nights and ten on weekends. And he sleeps until noon when he can, which means he's been getting over twelve hours of sleep." Hermione stopped and waited for Draco to register this information.

"Are you trying to tell me that he's been depressed over this, too?" Draco said weakly.

Hermione nodded solemnly. "I've been worried about him. That's why I wanted to try to talk to you." The instant she finished saying this, Professor Vector started speaking, and the room instantly went quiet. Draco cursed under his breath. He had very much wanted to continue their conversation, but Hermione's head had instantly snapped around, paying rapt attention to what Professor Vector was saying. Draco sighed and turned his attention to the front of the room as well, figuring they could continue speaking at the conclusion of the class.

And he was right. As soon as the bell rang and the students in the room frantically began to pack their bags, Hermione turned to Draco again. "Listen, Malfoy," she said, an air of seriousness about her. "We can't speak like this in public--Harry would kill me if he knew I was doing this."

"He doesn't know?" Draco said incredulously.

"No, he doesn't. So that's why we mustn't speak when there's someone who might tell him around, and especially not when he's around."

"Alright. Well, when can we meet, and where?"

"You really care about him, don't you?" Hermione teased.

"Shut up," Draco said, sounding just as teasing, while at the same time desperately wanting her to shut up.

Hermione laughed. "We should meet in the Library. Harry never goes there, and neither does anyone who speaks to him. Honestly, those Quidditch types..."

"Hey, I play Quidditch!" Draco snapped.

"Oh yeah, sorry Malfoy. But you're not that type, you know what I mean?" Draco didn't know what she meant, but decided to pretend he did so she'd continue. "Anyway, keep your eye on me at dinner. Eat quickly, and when you see me get up, go to the Library. Don't directly follow me though, because otherwise people might get suspicious. And when I say people, I mean Harry."

Draco smiled, and faintly realized he couldn't remember the last time he had done it. "Alright, that sounds good. I really appreciate this, you know."

"I know," Hermione said, walking out of the classroom, but turning once she reached the door to give him a quick wave. As she walked away, Ron caught up with her and put his arm around her waist.

"What's got you looking so smug?" he said, bending down so he could kiss her on the cheek.

"You'll find out eventually, I suppose," she said mysteriously. Ron rolled his eyes at her vagueness, but decided it couldn't be important enough for him to care.

[//]

At dinner that day, Draco did as Hermione said and gulped it down. This was probably unnecessary, however, because he had been eating so little lately that he could have taken his time and still finished before her.

He also watched her, and saw that she, too, was eating quickly. She looked up every once in a while and gave him a meaningful look, in response to which he would nod. Finally, she stood up, and Draco saw her making excuses to Harry and Ron. Finally, the two boys nodded, and continued conversing with one another while she got up and left the room. Draco waited exactly two minutes before he too got up and followed her. Unlike her, however, nobody at the Slytherin table cared enough to question where he was going.

When he arrived at the Library, he found Hermione quickly; she was at her usual table. Everyone had come to realize at this point that Hermione always went to the same table, and since she was there so often, people had found other places to sit, leaving that table constantly free for her. But, to Draco's surprise, as soon as Hermione caught sight of him, she gathered her things and got up from the table, beckoning him to follow her.

She led him to a deserted corner of the Library, as close to the Restricted Section as one could get without Madam Pince yelling at them. Nobody frequented this area, so they were pretty much left to themselves. There were comfortable beanbag chairs around the area, and Hermione sank into one, indicating that Draco should do the same.

As they were in a Library, and that was a very unwise place to have a conversation, Hermione cast a silencing charm around the two of them, so their speaking wouldn't disturb anybody.

"Good idea, Granger," Draco said approvingly, settling into his beanbag chair in as comfortable position as he could get.

"Thank you, Malfoy," Hermione said politely. "Now, where were we?"

"Well, you seemed to be about to elaborate on why you wished to speak with me," Draco recalled.

"Ah, right. Well, actually, something's changed since I've last spoken to you. I finally got Harry to tell me something about why he's looked so glum lately. Now, before I tell you this, you have to promise that you won't rub it in his face later, once you've made up. As I've said before, he'd positively kill me if he knew I was telling you this."

"Yes, I promise," Draco said impatiently.

"Good. The thing is, Harry's been in fights with people he's cared about loads of times. In fourth year he got into a fight with Ron, and they didn't speak for a really long time. Ugh, that was awful, I was caught in the middle and everything! And the worst part was--"

"Granger, you're digressing," Draco interrupted as politely as he could.

"Oh yes, sorry. Right, well all those times he's fought with his friends, the only change in him I could see was that he just angered a lot more easily. He'd lash out at people that didn't deserve it, and he'd go into long rants about whoever it was he was fighting with."

"Your point is?" Draco drawled.

"My point is, Harry's not acting that way at all this time. He doesn't even seem remotely angry. He's just... sad. I confronted him about this today, and me saying that seemed to really strike a chord somewhere inside of him, so he proceeded to drag me up to his dorm and tell me everything."

Draco was beginning to get very interested, indeed. "What did 'everything' include?"

"He actually came out and told me that he feels depressed. He's scared, because this is affecting him more than he thinks it should. Okay, well, he didn't tell me everything because he wouldn't tell me what he meant by that, but still, I think that's getting somewhere."

"So let me get this straight," Draco said. "Harry's depressed, and he's getting concerned because he cares too much about our fight?"

"In a nutshell, yes," Hermione said, pleased at how quickly he had caught on. She was afraid he'd be as slow as Harry and need everything completely spelled out.

"There's still something I don't get," Draco said.

"What's that?"

"Why do you care?" Draco said, exasperated. "And why are you telling me this?"

"Because Harry's my friend, and I think he'd feel a lot better if the two of you were to patch things up. And I think you're both being stubborn and stupid."

"Thanks," Draco said sarcastically. "But weren't you the one who--"

"Tried to get you to abstain, yes," Hermione interrupted. "Harry said the same thing. But... oh, I suppose I should tell you what I told Harry." Hermione proceeded to explain to Draco why, even though on the surface it seemed good in respect to the Potion, their little argument could wind up working against them.

"Ah," Draco said simply, settling back in his chair out of defeat. "Well, since you know so much, what is it that Harry wants?"

"An apology," Hermione said simply. "That's all."

"But I already apologized!" Draco whined, rubbing his tired eyes with the heels of his palms.

"Apparently when you said it, Harry wasn't ready to accept it yet. Maybe he needed some time to be angry," Hermione said. "Either that, or he didn't think you meant it," she added in an undertone.

"What was that last bit you said?" Draco said, narrowing his eyes. When Hermione repeated herself louder, Draco frowned. "But that's about as sincere as it gets, Granger. Plus, I can't apologize again, I'll sound like I'm groveling. It'd damage my pride too much to do that. I just... can't."

"Well, if you want your boyfriend back, you're going to have to," Hermione said bluntly.

"Is that what he is to me?" Draco muttered.

Hermione snorted in a very undignified manner. "You and Harry are so much alike, you know? He said the exact same thing."

"Is that fact supposed to comfort me?" Draco said, obviously overwhelmed by the prospect of having to apologize again.

Hermione shook her head, more to clear it than to tell him 'no.' "Just think about it, okay? But don't think too long, because before you know it, it'll be February the first, and you and Harry will have gone back to being mortal enemies."

"We never were," Draco said softly.

"What was that?" Hermione said excitedly, and Draco got the distinct impression that she had heard him, and just wanted him to say it again.

But he humored her. "We never were 'mortal enemies.' Just rivals. There's a rather big difference." With that, Draco got up and waved goodbye to her, walking out of the Library.

Hermione put on another one of her self-satisfied smiles as she watched his retreating figure. "If I didn't know better, I'd say Draco Malfoy just opened his mind to the possibility that he doesn't have to hate Harry."

[//]

A few days later, Ron confronted Harry about "the Malfoy situation" again at lunch.

"Come on, Harry, it's been over three weeks now, and I can't remember the last time I've seen you this depressed. I mean, at least you've told us what's wrong, but that's not good enough! You have to actually do something about it!"

"I already told you, Ron. Malfoy's the one who has to do something about this, not me. He still hasn't apologized."

"I stand by what I said before; don't hold your breath. He's scum, he's not going to apologize," Ron muttered.

"Ron, I don't want to have this conversation," Harry said glumly.

"Hasn't Malfoy already apologized, Harry?" Hermione interjected, making the two tense boys jump, as they had almost forgotten she was there.

"Ye--wait, how did you know that? Didn't you say you hadn't been eavesdropping?"

"But Harry, you know how prideful Malfoy is," Hermione said, ignoring Harry's question. "Perhaps he feels he's already apologized, and doesn't think he has to again. Apologizing for him must be very damaging to his pride."

"Hermione, what makes you know so much about Malfoy?" Ron said, sounding vaguely disgusted.

Hermione ignored him, too. "Maybe you should talk to him," Hermione suggested to Harry.

"Maybe," Harry said resentfully. "But I still don't see how you know all that." Hermione's cheeks took on a red tinge, and she promptly buried her nose back in her book to hide her blush. Harry rolled his eyes, but didn't feel the need to probe her any further.

[//]

Hermione waited a week, hoping Harry would take this into his own hands, and when nothing happened, she sat next to Draco in Arithmancy again. When Draco noticed her, he immediately turned to her. "More information?" he asked hopefully.

Hermione smiled. "What, I can't sit next to my good friend without giving him information?"

"Bitch," Draco said teasingly. "As you said before, why else would you sit with me?"

"Well, I don't have information, per se. I came to nag you."

"Oh great. Just what I need, more nagging," Draco said dryly.

"Malfoy, be serious. Now it's been four weeks. You've got one left before the Potion wears off. You've got to do something. And quickly, for Merlin's sake."

"I know, I know," Draco said, wringing his hands nervously. Hermione vaguely wondered if he noticed he was doing this, and decided he probably didn't. "Every day I wake up telling myself 'I'll apologize today,' and then something happens when I plan to do it, or he's already talking to someone, or I'm just so fucking tired that I can't deal with it, and I wind up putting it off again!"

Hermione could tell that Draco was very distressed, and this was probably the most he'd ever let her see of him. "Then why don't you just do it and spare yourself all this agonizing?" she asked, sympathy in her voice.

"I don't know, I just can't!" Draco groaned, pulling at his hair angrily.

"What if I tell you to? Would you be able to do it then?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know, maybe?" Draco said.

"Do it today," Hermione said firmly, looking him right in the eye.

"I'll try," Draco said weakly, turning his head as Professor Vector began to speak.

[//]

Three days later, Hermione sat next to Draco in Arithmancy yet again, for he still hadn't apologized. "Malfoy," she said threateningly. He didn't look at her, but merely closed his eyes tightly.

"I know," he groaned. "I know what you're going to say. I'll do it today."

"That's funny, because that's what you said three days ago, the last time we spoke," Hermione said, still sounding somewhat frightening.

"I know! You don't have to keep saying that."

"And do you realize that you now have exactly four days, eleven hours, and fifteen minutes before your time runs out?"

"Er..." Draco said uncomfortably. Hermione tried hard not to laugh, for that was the first time she had ever seen Draco Malfoy at a loss for words.

Hermione sighed in defeat. "I obviously cannot make you apologize to Harry. This is the last time I'm going to ask you. Please, for both of your sakes, tell him you're sorry. I know you are, but you have to show him that you mean it."

Draco heard her, and he knew he would.

But twenty-six hours and forty-five minutes later, he still hadn't.

[//]

Harry smacked himself on the forehead angrily as he entered the Potions classroom, seeing on the board a complex recipe for a potion that was sure to be just as complex. This meant one thing: he'd be forced to work with Malfoy. Either that, or maybe he could persuade someone to trade partners with him. He dropped his bag on the bench that sat behind the table he was assigned to and immediately began to search the room for someone who might be willing.

Harry quickly realized that he had very few choices. Most of the people in his class were of other houses, and the only person Harry would even consider working with was Hermione, who most likely wouldn't be willing to switch (both because she'd find Harry's reasons stupid, and because she didn't want to disobey Slughorn's wishes). Harry had taken exactly three steps in her direction when he heard a nervous cough behind him, which made him pause, but not turn.

"Er... hi," someone had said. Harry had a pretty good idea who that someone was, but he didn't believe it. He slowly turned around, to see Draco Malfoy looking at him, standing somewhat awkwardly about a yard behind him.

Harry looked at him expectantly, managing to keep his face impassive. "Hi," Draco repeated, "remember me?" he said, smiling nervously.

Harry stopped himself from smiling just in time. He still hadn't gotten what he wanted, so he wasn't going to break. Harry tried to say something, but quickly realized he had a lump in his throat. He cleared it as quietly as he could. "It depends," he said. Although he was firm, he still managed to sound kind. "Don't you--"

"I'm sorry," Draco said quickly, speaking at the same time as Harry. As soon as he heard that though, Harry stopped. "I'm sorry," Draco repeated, "really, really, sorry. I meant it the first time I said it, too. It's just, it's really hard for me to apologize. I'm sure you've noticed I've got quite a bit of pride, and it's somewhat difficult to put aside, even for you."

Through all this, Harry was at a loss for words. Over the weeks he and Draco hadn't been speaking to one another, he had pictured how the apology would be when he finally got it, and he had pictured it many times, in many different ways. But for the first time in his life (or at least what he could remember), and he didn't think this was possible, but reality had been so much better than how he had imagined it.

When Harry didn't say anything for a long time, Draco furrowed his brow. "So, do you forgive me?" he asked, and Harry couldn't remember ever hearing Draco sound this concerned. All those weeks, Hermione had been insisting that Draco definitely cared about him, and now he was finally beginning to believe her.

"Yes," Harry finally managed to say, "I forgive you. That's all I had wanted to hear."

Relief flooded Draco's features, and his shoulders sagged as all the tension was released from them. "Good," he sighed, "that was bloody difficult, and I wasn't about to get on my knees and grovel. Actually, I probably would have if you made me, come to think of it."

Harry smiled and removed his bag from the bench he had put it on, sitting down where it had been. Draco watched him, still seeming to be enjoying the feeling of relief. "I'll get the ingredients," he said when he finally came back to his senses. He dashed off, and Harry found himself inexplicably happy. He hadn't even realized how upset he had been over this, but now that it was over, he knew it had been pretty bad.

Harry looked around the room casually, not looking for anything in particular. But when his eyes found Hermione, he realized that she had been looking at him. When their eyes met, she gave him a cheery grin and a thumbs up, quickly turning back to her partner so they could get started on their potion.

Harry rolled his eyes at her nosiness, but somehow didn't care as much as he usually would that she had been eavesdropping. At that moment, Draco returned with his arms full of potion ingredients. He carefully set them down on the table, and took his seat to Harry's right on the bench, perhaps sitting closer than necessary.

They began to chop their ingredients, not looking at each other, but at the same time, each very aware of the other's presence. After a few minutes of companionable silence, Draco cast a sidelong glance at Harry. "I missed you, you know," he said softly, trying his best not to blush.

Harry felt himself grow warm inside. "I missed you too."

[//]

As Potions was their last class of the day, Harry and Draco exited together, in very close proximity to one another. Harry even went as far as to wrap an arm around Draco's waist as they talked, heading towards the Great Hall for dinner, but clearly intending on taking the scenic route.

Meanwhile, their Potions class was whispering frantically, because those directly involved were not the only ones aware that Harry and Draco had been ignoring one another. The school had become very aware of the couple, and had been watching them for the past month to see if there had been any changes.

Now, they had clearly made up, and that would be very hot gossip, so those fond of partaking in such activities were quite eager to get to dinner so they could spread the word.

For once, Harry didn't care that people were talking about him. Draco was sufficiently distracting him from that, for it had been over a month since they had kissed, and every little movement Draco made caused Harry's frustration to grow.

He was so adorable. Harry knew Draco would absolutely kill him if he knew he had been thinking that, but it was true. And on top of Draco's natural cuteness, he was acting particularly shy since their relationship had just been reinstated.

Finally, Harry just couldn't take it anymore. "Draco?" he said softly.

Draco stopped walking and turned to face him. "What is it?" he asked.

Harry leaned down and slowly pressed his lips to Draco's, making the other boy's eyes widen, and finally close, as he gave into the kiss. Harry slowly and gently nudged Draco until his back was against the wall, and then deepened their kiss, biting Draco's bottom lip gently. Draco sighed and moved his hands up to rest on Harry's waist as they continued to kiss.

The passerby abruptly stopped chattering as they got an eyeful of what was going on in front of them. A collective "Oooh" was heard from the females, while the males either pretended to gag or watched with mixed interest and faint distaste. As for the gossipers... well, they were very happy, indeed

[//]

Once Harry and Draco arrived at dinner (it took a bit longer than it should have, as they kept getting distracted), Harry led Draco over to the Gryffindor table as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to do.

When they sat down, Ron didn't even look up from his plate. "Harry, you're late, what took--" At that moment, Ron had looked up and saw that Draco was sitting in front of him. "I take it the two of you have finally made up?"

"Well spotted, Ron," Harry said cheerily, helping himself to some mashed potatoes.

"Great, now you're going to get all mushy. I hate it when people get mushy in front of me," Ron sulked, pushing his peas around his plate rather than eating them.

"Mushy? Honestly Weasley, could you picture me getting mushy with anyone?" Draco said, but with less insult in his tone than usual.

"I guess you're right, not that I'd want to picture that," Ron said, sounding relieved at this realization.

Harry, who had managed to ignore Draco and Ron's exchange, turned to Draco now. "So, would you like to spend some time together?"

"How could I say no after all that's just happened?" Draco said sincerely, a small smile on his face.

"Great," Harry said, smiling back. "Come back to Gryffindor with me, like we used to. It'll be fun." Harry said the last part with a slightly mischievous glint in his eye, and right after he stopped speaking, Draco yelped and visibly jumped.

"Potter!" he said indignantly, while blushing profusely at the same time.

"Okay, I really don't want to know what just happened!" Ron said loudly, looking back down at his food to avoid being disturbed.

Hermione chose this moment to interject. "Harry, I know you're pleased about having patched things up with Draco and all, but I hope you're still keeping in mind your... dilemma," she said, surveying the couple owlishly.

"Don't worry about it Hermione, I've already told you we're not planning on doing anything yet. But could you please not mention that again in front of Ron? The thought of it may make him ill, and he's already beginning to look a bit peaky," Harry said, casting a worried glance in Ron's direction. He seemed to be trying very hard to concentrate on his food, and block out the conversation around him.

Hermione looked at Ron as well. "By gosh, you may be right," she said, looking at Ron with distaste, as he was turning an ugly shade of green.

Later on, when the foursome arrived in Gryffindor Tower, Harry immediately took Draco up to the dorms, in hope of having a private conversation with him. Or... something else.

Once they were behind Harry's bed curtains in nothing but boxers with the silencing wards up, Draco instantly dove on Harry. Harry laughed easily and instantly gave into the snogging, for he had really missed it, and what they had managed to get done in the corridors just wasn't going to cut it.

However, when Draco decided he'd try to take things to the next level, Harry quickly remembered why he had brought him here in the first place. Harry reluctantly pulled away and surveyed Draco for a moment, who now looked frustrated. "Oh come on, what did you expect?" Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"I can dream, can't I?" Draco grumbled, sitting back on his legs.

"Well I'm glad you did that, because I wanted to speak with you anyway, before you distracted me."

"I should have known," Draco said, but as he said it, he relaxed against the pillows on Harry's bed.

Harry looked at the clock on his bedside table. "We have three days, one hour, and twenty-four minutes until the Potion wears off. Friday night, at the stroke of midnight, we're going to find out whether or not our relationship is going to change in a very large way."

Draco just stared at him. "What's your point?" he said bluntly, getting impatient. "I knew all that already, and Granger keeps reminding me, too."

"Well, I was thinking," Harry began, looking up at the ceiling and biting his lip thoughtfully.

"Good for a change, no?" Draco said, not being able to help himself.

Harry ignored him. He continued to stare at the ceiling, but then turned to Draco suddenly. "Are you still stuck on the idea that the only way you could care about me was if you did take that Potion?"

"Are you seriously going to make me answer that question?" Draco said warily.

"Yes, why would I be asking if I wasn't?" Harry said sternly.

Draco sighed. "No, I suppose I'm not 'stuck on the idea,' as you put it. I think there's a good possibility we could continue to care about one another." Draco cringed at the conclusion of his words. No matter how he said it, it sounded cheesy.

Harry smiled. "Good. Well then, I have a proposition."

"What would that be?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Why don't we spend Friday night in the Room of Requirement? You know, the place the party was held the night we took the Potion? That way, we'd know immediately whether or not the Potion had affected us. Sure, it might be a bit jarring to be looking at one another when the change happens, but I figure... well, if nothing does change, we could..." Harry's voice trailed off as he struggled for words.

"We could have some privacy?" Draco finished for him suggestively.

"Yes, exactly. And that way Hermione won't be there to nag us about anything. She can't even say anything about us spending the night together then, because as soon as it's midnight, she shouldn't have a problem with it."

"Well, I think It's a brilliant plan," Draco said approvingly, already looking forward to Friday.

[//]

The rest of the week dragged by for Harry and Draco. Well, most weeks dragged by slowly, but this one especially so, because the two were in such anticipation of Friday night. However, Harry had such mixed feelings about the day that he almost wished it were father away.

On the one hand, if all went well, he and Draco could finally go where they knew they shouldn't before. That alone carried mixed feelings with it. Harry had obviously never gone that far with another person, and he was extremely nervous. What if he did something wrong and screwed it up? But he was also excited beyond all reason. He had been wanting to do this since the second he looked at Draco that night two months ago.

But that was the other thing--what if, when the Potion wore off, Harry was left with no feelings for the other boy? And what if Draco had no feelings for him? There was a whole combination of things that could go wrong, and Harry just tried not to think about it.

This proved very difficult, however, because Hermione seemed to be taking it upon her self to count down the time until the Potion wore off. Every time he saw her, she'd say something like, "Oh, look at that! Exactly thirty-six hours left!" By the time Friday rolled around, Harry wanted to punch her.

Harry and Draco finally told Hermione of their plan at dinner on Thursday, to make her shut up more than anything else. Immediately after hearing them, she smiled at them in such a way that made them believe that she was thinking very perverted thoughts. "That sounds lovely," she said in a controlled voice. "But remember, I forbid you to do anything but kissing before midnight."

Harry and Draco turned to each other and rolled their eyes. "We know," they said at the same time before glaring at her.

Finally it was Friday, and immediately after dinner, Harry and Draco rushed to the Room of Requirement. They stopped in front of the wall on which the door was to appear, and Harry did the honors of walking past it three times, wishing for the perfect room for them.

When Draco opened the door and stepped inside, he couldn't help but say "wow." The room was huge, but not so huge that it wouldn't be comfortable. There were two main areas--a sitting area, with a couch, a few chairs, and a gigantic clock. There was also an area that had a huge bed with obscene amounts of throw pillows, complete with a canopy and hangings. Perhaps the most spectacular thing about the room, though, was that it appeared to be made completely out of black velvet. There were a few dim lights in the room, but they only illuminated the area directly around them, for the black velvet absorbed most of the light. Even the floor, walls, and ceiling were covered in black velvet, except that they had small, glowing balls pressed into them that resembled stars, providing a little more light.

"Oh my gosh," Harry said, stepping in next to Draco. "Apparently this room takes some artistic liberties, because this is amazing compared to what I thought."

"What did you think?" Draco asked, walking over to the couch and making himself comfortable.

"I just said 'comfortable and romantic,'" Harry said, still observing the glowing stars on the walls.

Draco snorted. "Potter, you sap. Sit down." Harry did, but then turned to look at the clock in front of them. It was mounted on the wall, about four feet in diameter. The numbers on the clock glowed neon green, except for the twelve, which glowed a deep, rich blue. The second hand was bronze; the minute hand was silver; and the hour hand gold. The two boys sat on the couch just staring at the beautiful clock for a few minutes, not even registering what time it was.

Finally, Harry broke the silence. "It's seven o'clock. We have a little less than five hours before we should start actually watching the time. What do you suppose we do?"

"I've got a few ideas," Draco said, draping one of his legs over Harry's and leaning into him so they could kiss.

The two spent the next five hours similarly, sometimes taking a break to actually talk about something, but that never lasted long. Finally, Draco managed to catch sight of the clock over Harry's shoulder while they were kissing. He broke the kiss and pushed Harry off of him, looking at the clock to make sure he'd read it right.

"Why'd you stop?" Harry said dazedly.

"Look," Draco said softly, pointing at the gargantuan clock on the wall.

Harry looked. They had exactly two minutes before midnight. "Oh shit," he said, sinking into the couch dejectedly.

"Yes, 'oh shit' would be an appropriate word choice," Draco responded, he himself getting a bit shaky.

"Crap, I'm not ready for this," Harry muttered, running his fingers through his hair.

"Well, sorry, but I'm afraid you've got little choice in the matter," Draco said.

Sixty seconds to go.

Harry sighed. "Here's to hoping," he said softly, leaning over to kiss Draco, for what might be the last time.

Thirty seconds.

"Good luck," Draco muttered, his eyes now fixated on the clock.

"You too," Harry mumbled back, he too hypnotized by the bronze second hand.

When there were five seconds to go, both boys squeezed their eyes shut, and they somehow managed to wind up clutching each other's hands desperately, as if the harder they squeezed, the slower time would go.

Three...

Two...

One...

And the clock chimed midnight.

[End Of Chapter Four]