Draco didn't see much of Potter that weekend. During meals, Potter hardly looked at him, and when Draco did catch him looking, he immediately ducked his head or looked at his friends.

Monday, Draco was walking behind Potter on the way to class and called out a greeting. Potter's shoulders tensed, but he didn't reply or even look back. When Draco came into potions, he found Potter had chosen to partner with Boot. Walking into charms later that day, Potter was sitting snugly between Weasley and Granger, so apparently engrossed in his textbook he didn't even glance up.

"He's avoiding me," Draco said, dropping his bag on the floor next to Pansy's chair in the Slytherin common room.

Pansy looked up from her notes, suppressing a sigh, "So, Potter then the transfiguration paper?"

Draco slumped into a chair. He took out his books and a pile of notes, his mouth pressing into a thin line, "There's nothing to talk about. It's done," he said flatly.

Pansy frowned faintly, "Draco-"

"He's avoiding me," Draco repeated. His tone wavered, "I can't- I can't force him to-" his throat went tight, and he clenched his hands.

Pansy stared at him and then her expression slowly fell, "Oh- Draco. I didn't think this was serious. You really...care about him?"

Draco turned his head away, "Can you not be a bitch right now?"

"I'm getting there," Pansy snapped. She took a deep breath, "I mean you have to admit, this is- was just like when you had a crush on Blaise and then Theo."

"That was entirely different," Draco muttered, careful not to meet her gaze.

Pansy scrunched up her nose, "The level of melodrama was the same."

"There was no- is-" Draco stopped and sighed, picking up his notes and flipped through the sheets of parchment until he found a clean one, "Let's just... work."

Pansy reached over and squeezed his arm, "The paper isn't due for a week, would you rather drink fire whiskey until we pass out?"

Draco smiled faintly against his will, "I would love that, but I need to get all my assignments done before the week of the full moon."

"The full-? Oh," Pansy tsked, "I forgot you're still doing that. Blech," she rolled her eyes and grabbed her books. "At least it will keep you busy, so you don't have to think about him. He's not worth it, you know."

Draco gave her a look, "He's Harry Potter."

"He's a moron with bad hair and even worse luck," Pansy paused, a frown turning into a deep glower, "I don't want you to like him. I thought you just wanted to fuck him and that would be the end of it. Not this-ugh, I hate it."

Draco picked up his quill and smoothed the feather with his fingers.

"Merlin, really it's just- it's not fair," Pansy went on, "You risk so much. He's not going to lose anything; he's not the one that's going to get hurt, you are."

"I know," Draco said softly, "I knew that from the begining."

"He never even apologised for sixth year. You almost died."

"I was going to crucio him-"

"Like that's even close to the same thing!" Pansy snapped, "Students were lining up to take punishment from you in seventh year-"

Draco flinched and his quill bent in his hands.

"-you could barely cast the stupid spell, it was like being tickled with a feather compared to the Carrows doing it!" Pansy went on.

"Pansy," Draco said, "I was furious with Potter. It wasn't going to be like seventh year."

"Still not the same," Pansy sniffed. "If nothing else, crucio doesn't make you bleed out."

The quill snapped.

"Oh- fuck," Pansy uncurled Draco's clenched hand and took the broken quill from him, "I'm sorry Draco. I meant to be upset for you, not to upset you. ...I'm still so bad at this sort of thing."

"I'm fine," Draco said, looking blankly at the fading red line across his palm.

Pansy gave him a look as she repaired his quill.

"I will be," Draco insisted.

Pansy silently passed his quill back over and looked at her book, flipping forward a page and then back. "If he hurts you again, I'm going to kill him," she said abruptly.

Draco shook his head slightly"You can't kill him. I need you, and you're of no use to me in Azkaban."

"Then I won't get caught," Pansy said flippantly, "I'll kill him the muggle way, with my bare hands. Then there won't be a magic trace."

Draco smiled faintly, "And then? There's still the body."

"I'll feed it to the giant squid," Pansy said.

"Ah, the perfect plan," Draco said flatly.

Pansy nodded, "Of course it is, I thought it up. Now, what was this stupid paper meant to be about?"

"Two feet on how to manipulate approximate intelligence in transfigured objects," Draco said, flipping ahead in his textbook

"Because knowing how to make your talking teacup more clever is very important," Pansy said sarcastically," What is this, the middle ages?"

"A little past that, I think," Draco said.

"Brilliant," Pansy said flatly.

  '~*~'  

Draco was high in the air on a broom, the Hogwarts pitch below him was green with spring.

"Ready?" Potter asked at his side.

Draco nodded, already looking for the snitch, and spotted it immediately down by the centre ring. He leaned forward, and his broom sped towards it effortlessly. He was certain Potter was right behind him but before he could think to look back the snitch was in front of him. He reached out and snatched it from the air.

When he looked up from his hand, he saw Potter slowly flying over to him with a brilliant smile. The wind had whipped up his hair into a beautiful mess of curls, and his green eyes shone with delight.

"That was brilliant, Draco," Potter said stopping right next Draco, their thighs pressing together.

It was a dream.

Draco could already feel himself waking up and desperately clung to the image of how Potter was looking at him. He wanted to reach out and touch him, to brush his hair back and cup his cheek. He wanted to-

Draco opened his eyes. He muttered bitterly under his breath, patting the mess of rumpled blankets around him until he found his wand and turned off its horrid shrill alarm. He cast lumos and checked his watch under the faint blue light. Four minutes past midnight.

Draco straightened his rumpled robes and pulled on his shoes, grabbing his brewing case as he slipped past empty unmade beds and dressers gathering cobwebs to the door. The common room was empty, lit only by a flickering dying fireplace. He cast a disillusionment spell over himself and stepped out into the hallway, quickly making his way down into the deepest parts of the dungeons.

He ran his free hand along the wall, counting the doors he passed until he came to the seventh. The feel of the wood under his hand was the only sign a door was hidden by the illusion of a stone wall. He pulled it open just wide enough to slip through and step inside. Draco hadn't bothered with more complicated wards and protections. It was far easier to cover everything in a thick layer of dust than to try and hide it. He wasn't doing anything wrong. He just didn't trust anyone else to believe that.

Draco cast a cleaning spell over the room and charmed lights along the ceiling overhead. It was a small room, with two tall brewing tables and a sink in the corner. He pulled off the cloth covers on the two small iron cauldrons lined with silver.

He set his brewing case down and began preparing the ingredients, one at a time, using weights and measures so every potion would be the same, each ingredient set on a small square of parchment. The aconite took the longest, he always tested the potency every time he brewed. The plants from the manor's greenhouses didn't tend to vary in toxicity but he wasn't about to risk brewing a bad batch. Complacency lead to mistakes and mistakes cost lives; it had been one of Severus' favourite admonishments.

Draco checked and double checked everything before he lit a fire under the first cauldron. He cracked the door open so the potion fumes wouldn't build up and make him feel ill. As he poured the base his mind quieted. He fell into the familiar rhythm of brewing, each ingredient added with care as he watched bubbling mixture, breathing deeply through his nose as the smell changed, becoming sharp and bitter then mellowing into something earthy as the final ingredient was stirred in.

He dispelled the fire and left the potion to stabilise, stepping over to the next cauldron, to start the second potion, and once he finished it, the first potion would be ready to decant, he could clean the cauldron and start the third potion which would lead to the next and the next.

Draco uncorked the potion base and paused, looking around the room. A feeling of unease grew as he sat the potion base back down, his eyes settling on the door. He had left it open but had he left it that far open?

Draco stepped closer to the wall, slipping his wand from his sleeve, the point swirling and lifting as he opened his mouth to cast homenum revelio-

"Expelliarmus!"

Draco's wand jerked free of his hand as he startled backwards, jamming his hip against the table. His wand hit the wall with a clatter and rolled back in front of his feet. Draco watched its progress with a scowl, his side throbbing dully in pain, hot anger filling his gut.

"Stalking again, Potter?" Draco said coldly, "Nothing ever changes."

"I didn't- It was just- just-" Potter stammered.

"Get out."

"-instinct," Potter finished lamely.

Draco clenched his jaw, "I said, get out."

Potter was standing pressed against the wall next to the door; his invisibility cloak clutched against his chest. He had lowered his arm, but the tip of his wand still pointed at Draco, ready to cast. "What are you doing down here?"

"It doesn't concern you," Draco said.

"You're up to something, everything lately-" Potters voice rose with every word," -the being friendly and saying nice things and even though I told you those things, you haven't done anything with the information, and now you're brewing a lot of something in the middle of the night and why haven't you pick up your wand!?" he yelled, his wand rising a few inches, his grip tight enough to whiten his knuckles.

Draco looked up from Potter's hand and said, with such bitterness the words felt like acid etched into his tongue, "So I can be cut by you again? I think not."

Potter flinched, his eyes widening in momentary shock before anger took hold, "What're you doing down here?! What are you brewing?! Because if-"

"Wolfsbane!" Draco shouted, banging his fist on the table, "If you paid any attention in class you'd know that!"

"That was-" Potter's brow furrowed, "You said you only brewed it this summer!"

"Yes, because people just stop being werewolves when Hogwarts is in session!" Draco snarled sarcastically.

Potter shook his head, raising his wand higher, "Wrong, the ministry provides free wolfsbane. Hermione fought for it for months."

Draco closed his eyes, fuck he wanted to break Potter's stupid nose all over again, or shake some sense into him, "But she didn't get rid of the registry and, she didn't change people's minds and maybe someone might have a job they don't want to lose or are married and don't want their spouse's family to force them to choose between the marriage and them and MAYBE there are parents who don't want their little girl on a register that will ruin her life!"

"How-? Why did they come to you!?"

"They didn't," Draco said flatly. The anger which had felt hot and bright and good in its fervour drained away and left a leaden weight of dread at the base of his skull, "Greyback liked to bite people, children especially, and then go back and see if they would turn and kill their own families. He liked to talk about it, especially if it made you uncomfortable."

Potter looked ashen which served him right.

Draco took a shaky breath. He noticed he was squeezing his left forearm and forced himself to let go. "I was the one that approached them about what they might need."

"And they just-" Potter bit back the rest of his words though they were easy enough to guess.

Draco turned back to his work table, picking up two vials and placing them in stands, a funnel in each one, and carefully filled them with his first potion. "They took a potion brewed by an ex-death eater? Obviously. They were desperate and, surprisingly, are also not dead. If you're done, I have a lot of work to do."

"I- I... didn't mean to..." Potter said weakly.

Draco heard the door open and then close as Potter left. Draco corked the potions, ignoring how badly his hands were shaking. He allowed himself, just briefly, to rest his elbows on the table and press his hands over his face. Then he pulled himself together, picked up his wand and the potion base and got back to work.