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Summary
“…You’re asking me how many times I’ve lived through this day?”
“Um, yes?” Potter’s hand stills in his hair.
“Gee, Potter, let me think. I stopped keeping count after forty—could be a hundred. Or two hundred. Who’s to say?”
Potter’s eyes widen comically. “A hundred Thursdays? And I die in every single one?”
“Ten points to Gryffindor.” Draco smiles grimly.