Draco corked the last two vials of wolfsbane and put them into the box with the others, checking that the cushioning charms were in good repair before latching it closed. He carried the cauldron to the sink and filled it with water and soap, rinsing it three times and thoroughly hand drying it before setting it back on the table and covering it with a cloth.

The door opened, and Potter stepped inside, "I still stink," he muttered peevishly.

"Oh yes, it gets into the skin. It should be mostly gone by tomorrow," Draco said, "I assumed you left."

"Thought about it," Potter said.

Draco pulled his cloak on and picked up the box, "I've already finished."

Potter grimaced, "I wasn't much help tonight."

"Quite entertaining though," Draco said.

Potter glared at him.

Draco shrugged.

Potter looked away with a huff, "You're extremely frustrating."

"That's what you wanted, Potter," Draco said, searching Potter's expression.

"I don't know what I want..." Potter said so quietly Draco didn't fully make it out. He took a deep breath and looked at Draco, "What do you do after this?"

Draco hesitated then looked down at the box, "I go to the owlery."

"You send the whole thing?" Potter asked. "I figured it'd be lots of little packages."

"I send it to the manor, and Kipper, my house elf, apparates the potion to each house. It's more efficient, he can ignore wards, and can't be tracked by the ministry." He walked over to the door, "You might as well go back to your dorm for the night." He shifted the box to one arm and grabbed the doorknob. He cleared his throat meaningfully at Potter.

"Right, sorry," Potter said, quickly following Draco out into the hall.

Draco pulled the door closed.

"I could help."

"What?" Draco said, his hand frozen on the knob.

"Going to the owlery, I can help so you don't get caught," Potter said, pulling his invisibility cloak out of his robes.

Draco allowed himself to consider it for just a second then shook his head, "No. I've never had any problems."

"Our professors can spot disillusionment spells, or a prefect might be patrolling, and there's Ms Norris," Potter said.

Draco rolled his eyes, "As I said, I've never had any problems. Filch never comes into the dungeons this late."

Potter pulled an elaborately folded piece of parchment from his pocket and pressed his wand to it, murmuring something under his breath. The parchment to bloom with writing and then a map of the entire castle drawn in painstaking detail.

Draco shifted closer, trying to peer over Potter's shoulder while he was engrossed. He soon saw why, there were little names on the map, a name for everyone, including his and Potter's down in the depths of the castle.

"...You can't be serious," Draco said faintly.

Potter glanced over his shoulder at Draco, looking embarrassed, "Err... yeah. I've had it for a while."

"I see," Draco said. He looked away and pulled his hood over his hair, "I'm going."

"Wait," Potter said. He walked over and pinned the map between his knees, shaking out his invisibility cloak. He swung it around Draco's shoulders, grinned nervously, and let the front of the hood fall to shroud Draco's face, "It's always a bit strange seeing someone else in the cloak."

It was like looking through a silvery veil. When Draco looked down at himself nothing was there at all unlike the subtle waver in the air left by disillusionment charms. "You can't see me at all?" Draco asked.

"I can still hear you but no, completely gone," Potter paused and gave a faint pained smile, "hidden from even death itself."

Draco raised an eyebrow, "That seems unnecessarily dramatic."

Potter lifted his map, "Let's go; I'll keep watch for anyone headed towards us."

Draco let Potter lead the way, somewhat hopeful that he'd trip with the way he kept staring at his map. When they reached the main floor, Draco asked curiously, "...Were you referring to the invisibility cloak in the tale of three brothers?"

Potter managed to pull his face out of his map, "Yeah?"

"That's rather clever," Draco conceded.

Potter glared in his general direction, "I suppose you just needed to say it like that."

"Like what?" Draco asked.

"Like I'm a dog that's done a trick," Potter said.

"Well," Draco said smirking to himself, "You certainly aren't a dog."

Potter rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh, "But it was a clever trick. Right. Could you be any more of a little shit?" He glanced down at the map.

"I-"

"fuck-" Potter hissed, quickly folding the map and shoving it in a pocket, "where are you?"

Draco opened the cloak with his free hand, and Potter rushed to him, grabbed his wrist and pulling him to the wall, in the shadow of a suit of armor. He pinned the edges of the cloak between the wall and his back, hiding them both inside. The small box Draco in hands was the only thing separating them from one another.

Potter froze as they heard the footsteps of whoever was coming, peering past Draco's shoulder to get a look at them.

Draco was desperately trying not to lean forward and bury his nose in Potters hair which was close enough to brush his cheek. It was surprisingly soft and smooth, smelling faintly of lavender and something else, mingling inoffensively with the rich earthy smell of the potion. It was pure torture and completely unfair as far as Draco was concerned.

The footsteps drew closer, and they sounded like the Headmistress', sharp and clipped. Draco felt Potter's hand curl around his wrist again. It was warm and gentle, and Draco felt like he was dreaming again.

Potter held his breath as McGonagall strode briskly past them, her footsteps leading her past the stairs and away from them.

"...I can, in fact, be more of a little shit," Draco said quietly to break the tense silence.

He expected Potter to smile or laugh or at least insult him, not tighten his grip on Draco's wrist and blurt out, "You and Parkinson are dating?"

Draco blinked, "Pansy and I-?" He frowned, his nose crinkling at the thought, "Merlin no. Absolutely not."

"You're always together," Potter said.

"She's my friend," Draco said.

Potter worried his bottom lip, "The two of you seem so close is all."

"She's the only person talks to me in this school and at great cost to herself," Draco said.

Potter's brow furrowed.

Draco sighed, "Being seen with me is social poison. She would have a lot more opportunities if she left me behind."

Potter's grip loosened, "She must care about you a lot."

"Well she's better than whatever you've decided she is in your head," Draco said. He gathered what little nerve he had and managed to blurt, "I'm- I'm not interested in- she's not- and I'm not her- her type. Neither of us are... interested." He stopped talking, feeling foolish and flushed as a tomato.

"I- Right," Potter said in a strangled tone. He quickly let go of Draco's wrist and fumbled his way out of the cloak, walking back to the centre of the hall as he pulled out his map. "It should be clear now."

Draco nodded and followed him up the stairs.

  '~*~'   

They wound their way up the tower until the reached the owlery, the rafters, beams and nesting boxes full of owls. Just outside the open windows, the first rays of dawn began peeking over the horizon though they lent no warmth to the bitter winter cold.

Potter stopped at the doorway, looking grimly at the floor rather than the far more interesting owls or veiw.

Draco took off Potter's cloak and handed back to him, calling up to the rafters, "Castor, Pollux."

Two brown owls peered down at him, spreading their wings and flying down to the nearest windowsill. Draco carefully put the box in a cloth bag, sealing the top and holding up the four loops sewn on either side for the owls to grab, "Take this to the manor, make sure Kipper gets it by morning."

Castor flew over, his brother only a wingbeat behind, snatching up the loops and carrying the box up and out of the tower.

"I thought you had an eagle owl," Potter said.

Draco turned back to Potter in surprise, "Yes...I did."

"It was rather hard to miss," Potter said defensively.

"I suppose," Draco said, "We had two eagle owls, Father bought one for me when I started school. ...Septimus was killed, and Armand stays with mother. I wasn't going to get another owl but delivering the wolfsbane forced my hand."

"You could have used the school owls," Potter said.

Draco looked up, spotting a few of the scruffy looking Hogwarts owls, "Certainly, if I wanted half my vials broken in transport. Castor and Pollux are from the same brood, specially trained to fly in tandem with large packages."

"Only the best for a Malfoy," Potter said sarcastically.

"Of course," Draco said, "When you have the money for it, why not?"

"You could help people," Potter said.

Draco rolled his eyes, "I am helping people, Potter."

"I meant help more people," Potter rather pointlessly explained.

Draco carefully walked back to him, stepping around owl pellets and what looked like half a dead rat, "And I suppose you've donated all your money then? Started charities and organizations for the betterment of the world?"

"I- No," Potter hesitated, "I mean I've donated a bit after the war but with school, I don't have time to do more."

Draco bristled with indignation, "And you think I do?"

"I-"

"I don't know what you want, Potter." Draco's lip curled in a sneer, " You want me to act as I always have, but you also want me to be better than I ever was before. You want me to be selfish and a coward but when I'm not what I have done isn't enough."

Potter threw up his hands, "I don't know! I just- don't know alright?!"

Draco stared at him his eyes narrowing.

"It'd be easier if you were just a prat. I wouldn't have to think about..." he stopped and grimaced like he was in pain, dragging both hands through his hair in frustration. "But I'd like you to be good as well."

"I'm never going to be good, Potter. Not like you. Not like your lot," Draco said.

"But you're-

Draco interrupted, "A war criminal, a social pariah,  a coward."

"You're trying," Potter finished.

"And is that enough?" Draco snapped.

"It ought to be, shouldn't it?" Potter said like he was trying to convince himself, studying Draco with an intensity that made him shiver.

Draco pushed his hood off, absent-mindedly straightening his hair even as it fell back into his eyes. "Well, I'm not sure what I'm meant to do anymore. So I shan't," he said feeling increasingly annoyed. "If you want to be convinced, you can do it yourself."

He nearly fell as Potter grabbed the front of his robes, pulled him close and kissed him. It was rough, breathless, and over far too quickly.

Potter took a step backwards, his expression defiant and torn.

"Potter," Draco reached after him, but Potter turned and ran back down the tower stairs.

Draco managed to shake his shock off and ran after him, "Get back here, Potter! You're not supposed to run off! You don't kiss people and run off!" He stopped at the base of the tower, out of breath to an unseemly degree, and no Potter in sight. With his invisibility cloak, Draco didn't have a fucking chance of finding him.

"Potter!" He shouted down the hall and in a fit of pique allowed himself to stomp petulantly on the floor, "Stupid fucking prat! I had plans for that kiss! I was going to put it in a pensive and keep it forever and now I'll have to cut off the end and- and-" he sucked in a deep breath and let it out all in one. "Arsehole," he combed his fingers through his hair and irritably straightened his robes.

Draco slumped down on the stairs feeling a little shaky as the last of the adrenaline left his body. He stared down the empty hallway and slowly grinned, feeling hopeful, giddy and annoyed all at once.