Chapter 3: Intoxicated

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Draco quickly headed back up to the castle from the Quidditch pitch. He walked in to where he had left from just in time to watch himself disappear. He grabbed his bag from where he'd left it on the desk and headed off to his first class of the day.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was nearly pointless for him now. There was, in essence, no real reason he needed to be taking this - other than to keep up with appearances, he supposed. It wasn't necessary to give people more reason to speculate than they needed. There was a war brewing, everyone could smell it. The difference was, it had already arrived for him. It was living in his house, right under his nose. The next stop was under his skin, in his head.

Then again, who's to say it wasn't already there? Draco wasn't really sure he would know if it was.

They were learning about the Unforgivables today. He shifted in his seat, trying to hide the discomfort he felt as he avoided his professor's eyes. As much as he tried to disregard the fact that there was a second part to his task, it haunted him. He'd rather not think about that until he had no choice but to do so.

"Finnigan, that will be ten points from Gryffindor if you don't sit down," Snape threatened as he eyed the Gryffindor, "Now."

"Today we will be discussing the Imperius Curse. I'm assuming you all know what it is by now, so we shall skip the formalities. We are going to be discussing how to resist it," he said, capturing the attention of the students quicker than usual, and that was saying something.

"The Imperius Curse is nearly impossible to resist, but to do so requires a nearly insurmountable amount of will and character. When you are under it, you are only vaguely aware of what is happening around you. It is comparable to being under hypnosis, and it is a very hard hold to break," Snape continued.

"As we all know," he started, growing slightly more ominous than normal, "dark times are upon us, and we need not be concerning ourselves with the likes of Boggarts or Hinkypunks during times like these. I am well aware that your education last year was...far less than adequate, so we will be attempting to make up for lost time. Bear in mind, this is the only Unforgivable that you have the ability to resist. If you are ever found to be under its effects, you at least have a sliver of hope," he drawled on, gazing at his enraptured students.

Snape's eyes landed on Malfoy. "Unless, that is, you have no character or will to live."

-

He felt the weight of the Time Turner resting heavily in his pocket as he headed to his next class, stopping at the kitchens for a quick snack. He wondered if he should find Granger now or wait until later, when she inevitably was tearing apart the entire bloody castle looking for it. That is, if she wasn't already, which he doubted. The funny thing was, no one would know what it was she was looking for since she couldn't very well tell them.

After a pause to consider, Draco decided firmly upon the latter. He always loved to see her frazzled, that perfect exterior cracked just enough for everyone to see how fucked up she really was underneath. He hated her superiority complex more than just about anyone.

In the hours following a few more pointless, dragging classes, Draco headed to the Prefect's office to check the schedule. They changed so often, he typically had no idea until the day of who he was doing rounds with.

He froze, staring at the parchment spelled to the wall that was taunting him. He just could not fucking escape her, could he? He hung his head into his hands, groaning softly in irritation.

The sound of a clearing throat came from behind him and he whirled to face who he already knew he would be. Fate loved to taunt him. Draco reasoned that he should be thanking it for continually throwing her in his path, but he still hated her no matter how much he tried to trick his brain into the opposite. He narrowed his eyes to glare at her. "What do you want?"

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