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XII

The winter slowly started to fade in to a chillier mid season. Where the fresh snow was now turning to gray slush and the frost covered trees we're shedding their leaves and getting ready to re-bloom. Time passed by slowly, two weeks felt like months to Draco. He often found himself in depressed hazes where four days all blurred together to form one. He was barely sleeping, his meals consisted of a cup of tea—he was so used to y/n pouring in the sugar that he forgot how much he sugar usually puts— and sometimes he'd eat an apple before a class. Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle would all try to get him to come out with them on days off from classes, trying to infatuate him with a teenage boy fantasies of running around reckless and talking about all the girls they would snog.

Draco outgrew these child like tendencies, he found no interest in doing such immature things now like pranking first years or watching Goyle try and pick up girls. Instead his days consisted of; Going to the room of requirement, mulling around at the idea of placing the bird inside the cabinet, ultimately choosing not too, and then going to visit y/n in the later hours of the day so no one saw him. He often wondered as he read to her if she too felt like her days were blurring together, was she dreaming of him? Did the curse he place on the necklace create a coma filled with nightmares for her? Draco often asked himself these questions well in to the night time until his tired eyelids slowly started to droop down.

Today however would be different, he was going to steal that bottle of mead that y/n mentioned so long ago and finish his duties. After that he would have Bellatrix find the best healer to go save y/n and they could all escape together. Pulling a dark green blanket from his bed he draped it over his shoulders to blend in with the dark halls—he had to improvise since he didn't pack any clothes meant for a robbery— and pulled out his wand. Apparating just outside the teachers dining room he could hear Dumbledore and Mcgonagall step out in to the hall.

"Is he doing alright?" Mcgonagall asked following Dumbledore's heavy footsteps.

"Potter will be fine." Dumbledore swore, highly optimistic about Harry's capabilities.

Draco rolled his eyes extremely bored with hearing about the chosen one where ever he went. For once in his life he'd like to go somewhere where no one knew who Harry Potter was. Maybe once he got rid of Dumbledore the world would finally shut up about Harry James Potter. Like a snake he ever so quietly slid in to the teachers dining room and toward the large liquor cabinet. Pulling out the dark bottle with the name tag just like y/n describe he quickly took the vial from out of his pants pocket and poured in a generous amount of poison.

Everything was going according to plan until some quickly entered the room dragging a wagon filled with imports from the three broomsticks. The owner Madam Rosmerta grumbled something about "no good Professors" and "making her do all the work even though they ordered it". Draco in sheer panic of getting caught raised his wand and dashed over to her making Madam Rosmerta stumble over one of the corners of the wagon and landing on her bum.

"Imperio!"

Draco shakily lowered the wand—he had never used one of the unforgivable curses before. He was sure that if his father was here Draco would receive a mountain of praise—but his father wasn't here and Draco felt no real satisfaction from his actions. He quickly realized however, that cursing her could work toward his advantage—she could be the one to deliver the bottle to Slughorn and then from there Slughorn—who must've forgotten about the bottle—would gift it to Dumbledore.

"Take this to Horace Slughorn, tell him you found it while on your delivery and wanted to return it to him." Draco ordered quickly pulling the dark sheet tighter around him so she couldn't recognize who he was.

The women slowly nodded her head and stood up, brushed herself off and walked toward Draco grabbing the bottle from his hands. He pulled the wagon filled with perishables to the back of the room and then disapparated. His mind was so boggled that he was too vague when he thought of dorm rooms and appeared in the girls dormitories—just as they girls got back from the dining hall.