Sixth year is a depressing one.

And it doesn't help that Fred's absence is leaving a horrific hole in my heart. I have to stop myself from marching over to the Gryffindor table to shake Ron and Ginny until they spill any news about him. How's his business going? Does he have a girlfriend? Is he happy, or miserable as sin from missing me like I miss him?

But I know there are no answers which I will want to hear. Not unless they tell me that Fred has admitted he's made a big mistake and is planning on winning me back.

Fat chance.

I realise I need to move on and stop wallowing. I try and throw myself into the Slug Club which both Blaise and I have been invited to attend. It's alright I suppose. Nice food. Slughorn is a bit of a bore though. Still, he's harmless. And our new Potions Master.

Speaking of which, he got us to have a good sniff of Amortentia one time in class. It did not surprise me that I could smell Fred's cologne. His scent is the best scent in the world.

It made me smile and it made me sad as memories of him flooded me, taking me back to happier times.

I asked Draco what he could smell, but he refused to tell me. Well, he said nothing the entire lesson actually, and I got more conversation out of my tatty second hand Potions book than I did from him.

A spell for enemies? Huh, that's one I'll tuck away for a rainy day.

*****

Much to my annoyance, Dumbledore has insisted on giving me one on one after hours classes. For what reason, I'm not sure exactly. I mean, I learned that Tom Riddle was a product of rape, and that he had an unhealthy obsession with trinkets, but how's that going to help me in my awesome ambition to be an Auror?

These late night classes, however, are the reason I stumble across an intriguing discovery one evening.

"And thus concludes our session for tonight," Dumbledore announces at two o'clock in the fucking morning.

Muttering a farewell, I throw my Invisibility Cloak over my head and quickly leave his office. I don't necessarily need the cloak, but I don't have the energy to explain to Filch why I am allowed out in the corridors at this time of night.

However, when I round the first corner, and about to descend the first set of stairs, I am startled to see a figure hurrying up towards me. Panicking, I move to the side and press myself back against the wall, my heart pounding.

When the person nears, I am shocked to see it is my recent former best friend.

What the hell is Draco doing up roaming the castle at this time of night?

My first thought is that he is quite obviously out shagging. But as he passes me, he doesn't look like someone who is about to or has just been laid.

In fact, he looks fearful.

Curious, I make a snap decision and decide to follow him. After all, it hasn't escaped my notice how odd he's been behaving lately. He barely talks to any of us anymore, and when he does it's usually to bite our heads off. He never shows up for mealtimes and the shadows under his eyes are becoming quite alarming.

Up until now, I'd been putting his behaviour down to him being all emo about his father. And in all honesty, I've been wallowing too much of my own to notice others' woes.

I stay far enough behind so he won't hear my footsteps, but close enough so I don't lose him. When we reach the seventh floor, I soon find out he's using the room Fred and I used to fuck in.

I watch as he silent paces up and down and I wonder what sort of room he is conjuring. A sex room? But he's on his own. And to be honest he has his own room for that, never ashamed to flaunt various conquests through the Slytherin common room towards his own private chambers.

So what the hell does he want that he hasn't got in the dungeons?

A door appears, and after checking he is alone (ha!), he disappears inside.

Intrigued, I hurry over to the door and press my ear against it. Frustratingly, I can't hear a single thing. Taking a deep breath, I try the doorknob, but it's locked. Damn. He's made sure no one can follow him inside.

I wait for a bit, determined to confront him when he comes back out. But after an hour when I begin to nod off right there in the corridor, I give up and go down to my bed.

The following morning, after he never shows up for breakfast, I watch him carefully during Charms class, searching for any kind of clue of his midnight antics. But all I see is a tired, exhausted boy, whose cheeks are gaunt and skin almost grey.

That night, I watch him on the map Fred and George gave me. I watch as Draco's footprints once again take him to the seventh floor in the early hours of the morning, eventually vanishing altogether. I fall asleep before they reappear again.

After watching this happen night after night, I finally decide to confront him. I purposely choose the weekend when he cannot escape off to classes. And he no longer turns up for Quidditch so I know there's no risk of him being in training.

It's early Saturday morning and only a few people are up - taking advantage of the quiet and doing their homework. I stride right across the common room to the boys' dormitories and knock on Draco's door.

Silence.

I know he's in there because I checked the map, and therefore I also know he doesn't have company.

So I knock a little louder.

Silence.

I'm about to knock for a third time when the door suddenly swings open and, standing in the threshold, is a furious looking Draco, dressed in nothing but a pair of black boxers and weirdly his school shirt.

What the fuck is he sleeping in his shirt for?!

"What is it, Potter?" He snarls angrily, "only I'm trying to sleep here."

I raise an eyebrow. "I was just going to ask you if you're going into Hogsmeade today?"

"No!" He goes to slam the door in my face but I am quicker and push my shoulder against it, preventing him from closing it.

"Can I come in?" I ask, pushing my way in anyway. "We need to talk."

"If it's about what happened the night you got my father arrested then you can forget it!"

I wheel around to face him, surprised to see him shutting the door instead of attempting to drag me back out.

"No, it's not about that. It's about what you've been doing at night."

He freezes. I see panic flash in his eyes almost immediately.

"What are you talking about?" He says slowly.

"I followed you," I shrug. "After one of my sessions with Dumbledore."

"Why didn't I-?" He stops, his face darkening as realisation dawns on him. "That fucking cloak! What the fuck is wrong with you, Potter? First you get my father locked up and now you are stalking me!"

"What are you up to in there? And every night? Look at you, you're exhausted, Draco."

"Will you listen to yourself?" Draco snarls. "It literally is none of your business."

"You're my best friend! I'm worried about you!"

"We're not friends anymore, Potter. I thought I made that clear."

"So what are we then? Enemies?!"

I expect him to laugh or scoff, but he does neither of these things. Instead he looks deadly serious.

"You should leave."

I stubbornly shake my head, not wanting to leave without answers. "No."

"Get out, Potter, before I make you."

"Go on then." I dare. "Make me."

Anger flicks in his eyes and he makes a sudden move towards me, grabbing my arms and pulling me roughly against him.

And then he is kissing me, his lips tearing mine apart. I don't hesitate to respond, having known it was coming, having seen the hunger in his eyes from the moment I challenged him.

Just like before I am seized by an unearthly need for him. My fingers grasp in his hair, at his shirt. And when he lifts me up off my feet, I don't hesitate to wrap my legs around him, groaning against his mouth as I roll my hips against his crotch, feeling just how hard he is for me already.

He throws me down onto his bed, crawling over me as he reclaims my mouth, kissing me hard. I can feel the fierce thud of his heart next to mine.

A loud knock on the door makes us start, and Draco and I quickly untangle ourselves, jumping up from the bed. We both look at one another, panting heavily and wide eyed.

"Draco, let me in!" Pansy's voice yells as she continues to impatiently knock. "I know you're in there."

Fuck. Draco looks momentarily panicked as he glances down at the boner straining beneath his boxers, large and hard.

"I've got a girl in here. Go away."

"No you don't, I just saw Harri go in there."

I roll my eyes. "He's just showing me something private." I yell out.

Draco, who is quickly pulling on some trousers, smirks at me, his silver eyes twinkling.

"What? Let me in, I want to see!"

Oh for fuck's sake. I go to the door and open it. Pansy immediately steps inside looking around expectantly. "Well, what is it? Something juicy, I hope!"

"Parkinson, was there a reason for you being here?" Draco drawls derisively. "Only I've got a busy day and this string of tedious early morning visits are nothing but an irritation."

I glare at him. "I've finished, anyway. Pansy, he's all yours."

I storm out feeling angry and horny.

I achieved nothing from that interrogation other than more confusion. I can't understand where this thing between Draco and me has come from. I don't like it one bit, because I'm missing Fred so much and I feel as though I'm betraying him. But I can't deny just how much I wanted Draco just now, and if Pansy hadn't interrupted us then I'd probably be riding his brains out right now.

Good God, what the fuck is wrong with me? I'm fantasizing about riding my (former) best friend who up until now has been like a cousin to me, and yet I'm still so utterly in love with a boy who no longer wants me.

I look down at the bracelet Fred bought me for my sixteenth birthday and I find myself wanting to rip it off my wrist and throw it at a wall. Why the fuck am I still wearing it? He dumped me!

I suddenly feel so angry. I want to march back into Draco's room, kick Pansy out and have heated, angry sex with my former best friend who seems to have become my enemy with benefits, which is fine, because I don't need friends anymore. People only end up hurting you and letting you down by dying and opening joke shops.

At least with enemies you know where you stand from the start. Voldemort doesn't pretend to love me before he stabs me in the back - he's made it clear from the get go that he wants to inflict only misery and pain on me.

With this new mindset, I unclasp the bracelet from around my wrist and drop it into my pocket. Not quite as dramatic as throwing it against a wall- but, hey, it's still a nice bit of jewelery.

*****