"Sweet as sugar. Hard as ice. Hurt me once, and I'll kill you twice." –Lenka

*

Darcy examines the Vanishing Cabinet thoroughly. She's never seen anything like it: it's a tall prism of wood with brass doorknobs and, Darcy realizes, a twin in another location.

As far as what's broken, the cabinet is damaged physically and magically, which means more work. She also realizes that if the twin is broken, too, then they'll have to fix both.

"I've already tested the other one," Draco says. "It works fine."

"Less work for us," Darcy says in between bites of toast. "So I examined it last night, and it's in worse shape than you think."

Draco groans. "How long do you think it'll take to fix?"

Darcy sighs, resting her hands on her hips and thinking. "I could probably have it working by...April? Early May? It'll be tedious, but I'm up for it."

"Stop acting like you're working alone," Draco snaps. "Remember I'm here to help. I'm not fucking hiring you to do this for me."

Darcy raises her eyebrows. "Right, I know. When do you wanna get started?"

"I'll come by after dinner," Draco says. "Classes will be done."

"What if someone comes in here?" Darcy asks. She gets that this room is unbeknownst to most students, but most doesn't mean none. She doesn't want that life sentence--yet here she is, pretty much asking for it.

"Hide?" Draco says in his best 'duh' tone. "It's not like you seem very keen on being kept hidden anyways."

"Well excuse me for maybe wanting a sense of normality, a feeling of belonging, for once in my life," Darcy snaps.

"Anyone that finds you in here is not going to see you as a potential friend or a normal comrade," Draco reminds her. "You're a criminal, and that's all the public knows you as. Stay hidden. I'll be back later."

*

"Why do you even have to fix this thing?"

Draco suppresses a sigh. "I can't tell you. It's personal. Why did you become a criminal?"

"It's personal," Darcy snaps in the same tone as Draco. "You know, I know your dad was a Death Eater. That leads me to believe that this has something to do with You-Know-Who."

Draco remains silent. When he speaks again, he changes the subject towards her. "Why'd you even become a criminal?"

Darcy winces as her finger gets caught in one of the cogs, rolling her eyes at how he ignored her accusation. The worst things in the wizarding world are the things that combine magic and Muggles. "It was an accident. Someone gave me firewhisky, and I wanted to see if it would fizz if I put a charm on it, but it blew up instead and burned down a building."

"Doesn't sound like an accident to me," Draco says, obviously amused.

"It was. I didn't know it would fucking explode." Darcy groans once she realizes there are parts missing. "Where are we going to find missing parts?"

"Just wish them up," Draco reminds her. "They'll appear somewhere in here."

"Great, so we'll have to look for them, too," Darcy says, but it actually excites her to have to look through all the rubbish in here. She thinks she'll most likely find something old and interesting.

"Try a summoning charm," Draco suggests, picking up his bag. "I gotta get to the common room—curfew is almost upon us. See you tomorrow."

"Okay." Darcy waits until Draco is gone to test a small accio on the missing parts. She groans once nothing zooms towards her but then sighs and finishes the rest of the coffee Draco brought her.

She begins her search at a pile of books.

*

Of course Potter won that liquid luck. Of course Potter is Slughorn's new favorite student. Of course Potter. The one time Draco actually strives for something, it's ripped out of his hands by the fucking Chosen One.

He'd been hoping that that potion would help him and Darcy out with the Vanishing Cabinet. Sure, he has some luck because she's helping, but luck isn't something with boundaries. The luckier you are, the easier your life will be. And right now, Draco's life could not get more complicated. Can't they go back to a time when the biggest worry was who would win the Quidditch Cup?

"Felix Felicis?" Darcy asks when he retells the story later that night. "That's super easy to make."

Draco puts his wand down, almost slamming it on the table. "Maybe for a genius like you, but in my life there's always someone who outranks me." He thinks of all the times Granger has been granted the slot for best grades in their year over him.

"I'm not a genius," she denies, "and you're not stupid. Just because Potter won the potion doesn't mean you're the worst potion brewer in the world. Stop being so dramatic."

Draco can only sigh. She's half right. He could be like Finnigan and blow everything up; he could be like Longbottom and fuck everything up; he could be like Granger and know too much; he could be like Potter and get everything; or...he could be like Draco and tear himself apart over everything.

"I'm not being dramatic," Draco protests sourly. He's stressed; he's confused. He thought this was what he wanted--to be like his father and please the Death Eaters. Now, he's having second--or perhaps millionth--thoughts.

When Draco returns to the Common Room that morning, Blaise is awake upstairs and again demands to know where he's been. Sick of having to explain himself despite not doing it once yet, Draco hits him with a silencio and collapses in bed. Some people never learn.