It had been sixteen hours since Draco had last slept. It had been ten since he last ate, and eight since he had last had anything to drink.

It had been an eternity since he had done anything productive.

Now that Potter was so keen on figuring out what he was doing, Draco had decided to withdraw from the school altogether, at least until he managed to fix that cursed Vanishing Cabinet. He was no magic genius like Granger, and despite his best efforts, he had no idea which spell would repair it. When Peeves broke things, he did it thoroughly.

It had been three days and almost four nights, and though the room could conjure up and supplies he needed, Draco hadn't allowed himself to indulge himself with luxuries such as food and water and rest. He didn't deserve them.

He didn't deserve them because he hadn't yet succeeded. He didn't deserve them because he wasn't sure if he even wanted to succeed.

He knew he'd have no unexpected visitors like the last time he was in the Room of Requirement. Crabbe and Goyle didn't even know he was there, and Draco knew they were too thick to guess that's where he would go. No, he didn't need guards. Not with the room protecting him from intruders.

He didn't know why he was still in the room. He hadn't done anything in the last seventy-six hours. There was no reason for him to remain in the cursed room. And, yet, there he was.

It was time to leave. He should leave.

He couldn't leave.

He couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't blink.

Draco was terrified, but even more afraid of letting it show. So he pushed down his emotions in the only way he knew how: sulking.

He sat with a childish pout that he couldn't repress, glad that no one could see him. He thought about how futile his attempts to fix the cabinet had been.

He closed his eyes. Perhaps, the cabinet wasn't what he should have been focusing on then. Perhaps, he should be trying to succeed at his other job given to him by the Dark Lord.

Dumbledore needed to die anyway. Why was Draco stalling?

The blond reluctantly stood and brushed the nonexistent dirt off of his robes, desperately wanting and not wanting to leave at the same time. He knew he'd have to explain where he had been once he got back to his common room, and he was dreading it. Ignoring the growing knot of apprehension in his stomach, Draco walked towards the door of the Room of Requirement, looking thought the small keyhole to see if the coast was clear before cracking it open and stepping outside.

His walk was slow, and he fiddled with his wand inside of his sleeve to distract himself. It took him about thirty minutes to get to the dungeon, a journey that should have taken half of the time. He muttered the password to the door sullenly before slipping inside.

Pansy, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle sat next the fire, and Draco assumed that they had simply scared all of the younger students away to gain the spots. All four heads jerked up at his approach, and Pansy wore a sickeningly sweet grin.

"Draco!" she called out, delighted. Draco gave her a cold, long look, knowing that she would overanalyze it and not caring in the slightest. Pansy's face fell.

"Where have you been?" Blaise asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion. As the least dense of his friends, Draco knew that Zabini suspected that Draco was doing something for the Death Eaters, but he was yet to acquire proof.

"None of your business," Draco spat vehemently.

Blaise's eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't comment on Draco's irritable mood. They all knew better than to challenge him when he was in one of his brooding sessions, after all.

He sat in the seat farthest away from the other Slytherins, sitting a bit too stiffly and a bit too straight. After a few moments of tense silence, Draco stood and wordlessly walked up the stairs into his dormitory.

He needed to start planning if he was going to murder the headmaster, after all.

---

Harry spent an hour walking in front of the wall in which he knew the Room of Requirement was hidden, changing his request to get inside each time he passed. Nothing worked.

He gave up dejectedly, frustrated at both the fact that it hadn't worked and that he had wasted his time. Harry knew that Draco was plotting something, and it was driving him mad. It was becoming an obsession. He couldn't rid his thoughts of the Slytherin, no matter how hard he tried.

Draco Malfoy. Blue eyes, blond hair, pale skin. The most heinous person Harry had ever had the displeasure to meet.

End of story.

Harry considered going back to the common room, but decided against it. He wasn't in the mood to talk to his friends, as much as he knew that would help him take his mind off of Draco. He wasn't sure that he wanted to take his mind off of Draco.

It was late, and it wouldn't be long before Filch began to pace the corridors with the intent of catching students out of bed. Unfortunately, Harry's invisibility cloak currently resided in the boys' dormitory, so he would have to leave the library soon so as to not risk detention. Hopefully, everyone would be in bed by that time.

"Lumos," he muttered, and the tip of his wand lit up brightly. The library was quiet, with only Madame Pince sitting in the corner. She glanced up when Harry arrived, glaring at him threateningly. He sat in the farthest corner from her as he could and pulled out the Marauders Map.

After scanning it for only a few seconds, he saw it.

There, in the Slytherin common room, near the dungeons.

Draco Malfoy.

Harry unconsciously let out an agitated noise, much to the obvious dismay of Madame Pince. Malfoy wasn't in the Room of Requirement, so that either meant that he had finally succeeded at whatever he had been working on, or that he had failed.

Harry desperately hoped it was the latter. Malfoy deserved nothing but misery, the disgusting Death Eater.

The Gryffindor very nearly fell asleep at the table he sat at, but he was jerked out of his exhaustion by a very irritable Pince who insisted he left the Library immediately.

Harry groggily made his way back to the Gryffindor tower, wanting nothing more than to sleep and escape the nagging paranoia growing in the back of his mind about Malfoy.

When he arrived at the portrait hole, the Fat Lady was sleeping.

"Christmas Pudding," he said, the password having changed just a few days before.

The Fat Lady opened her eyes reluctantly, and she rolled her eyes when she saw Harry standing, tapping his foot impatiently to be let in.

"Why so late, boy?" she grumbled in her shrill voice.

"Christmas Pudding," Harry repeated, too tired to engage in a conversation with the portrait. The Fat Lady was still grumbling as she swung outwards for Harry, allowing him to step into the vast room beyond.

The fire was lit, but the common room was empty. It seemed to Harry that everyone had already gone to bed, which was a relief.

He trudged up the stairs in silence and collapsed into his bed, happy to let sleep overtake him.

---

Draco woke to a shrill shriek from the common room.

Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle all grumbled and sat up at the same time as Draco, rubbing their eyes in confusion. Draco got out of bed without a word, slipping on shoes and making his way to the door.

After descending the stairs, Draco was immediately greeted with several girls from various years laughing and swooning over something that Pansy held. Her gaze immediately lifted as Draco emerged, her smile widening.

"Draco!" she called, causing several of the girls' heads to whip around to stare at the new arrival. One of them whispered to another behind her hand, causing her friend to erupt in a fit of giggles.

Draco simply lifted a pale eyebrow coolly, skipping the last stair smoothly and approaching the group.

"What is this?" he asked sharply, hearing the sounds of the other boys emerging from the room and choosing to ignore them."

"Oh, Draco," Pansy began, but paused for a burst of laughter, "look what I was sent!"

She held up a small bottle in the shape of a heart, a red ribbon tied on the top. Draco narrowed his eyes and read the label.

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes presents: Amortentia, the love potion that never fails to make that special someone swoon!

Draco sneered and glared at Pansy. "Since when do you use Weasley products?" he spat, saying "Weasley" like a curse.

Pansy rolled her eyes, maintaining her smile. "Since it was free and sent to me anonymously," she said matter-of-factly, pulling the top off with ease and letting the potions aroma spread throughout the room.

Pansy giggled flirtatiously, holding the bottle closer to the boy's nose. "Smell like anyone... specific?" she asked with a not-so-subtle wink.

Draco sneered. "Of course it doesn't smell like anyone, you hag." He turned around before his face could reveal anything.

Because Draco did recognize the smell the Amortentia potion emitted.

Dammit, it smelled like Harry Potter.