Disclaimer. I own absolutely nothing here and i am not making any money

Slash

"TUTORING!" cried the Weasley twins with smug grins on their faces. The rest of the team either giggled or tried, politely not to smirk. Of course that meant that the tent was full of people either grinning, giggling or looking as though they had indigestion. Oliver gave a long sigh.

"Yeah, yeah I know. Unfortunately I have to do it other wise I will have to leave the team. Now this means that we will have to rearrange some the practise times," Oliver explained. Dropping one or two practise sessions was NOT an option, "So keep your schedules open and I will get back to you next week. Of course this means we will have to add one or two temporary sessions to make up for this week..." This announcement was greated by groans moans and a mime of sudden death by the Weasley Twins.

"Hey don't be like that! Its not my faul-" Oliver began.

"Yes it is!" cut in Fred.

"Yeah, if you had only tried harder at your studies and less time messing about with silly Quidditch then you would not be in this mess," proclaimed George, in a falsetto voice, doing an astounding impression of a Percy/Molly hybrid.

"What are you failing any way?" asked Harry. Over the summer puberty had made itself known to Harry Potter. He had shot up some inches and had filled out more, thanks to quidditch. His hair was still in the tangled heap it always was but know it looked adorable, not messy. His eyes still glowed with that brilliant green, the one thing that had not changed. You only had to talk to him though to understand he was still that shy, quite boy that had entered Hogwarts some years before.

"Three guesses," muttered Oliver bitterly.

"POTIONS!" came the enthusiastic chime from the Weasleys. At the nod of Olivers head, they took on a sombre pose and , walking up to him, laid one hand on each shoulder and said,

" You are never alone with a rubber duck," before grabbing their brooms and running off, laughing at Olivers confusion.

As the meeting dispersed and went their separate ways , Harry walked with Oliver to the direction of the library.

"Who is you tutor anyway? Is it going to be Snape? That would be cruel and unusual punishment!" stated Harry, as he walked side by side with Oliver.

"Nope! Not Snape...Thats one small miracle I suppose. Nah. The one tutoring me is, Draco Malfoy."

"What! How? He is only in my year! How could he help you?" Harry stuttered, halting for a second in the hall.

Oliver explained,"Apparently, he was home tutored for a few years. According to Snape, his abilities are about two years above mine. Well, what mine are suppose to be."

"Thats why he is always the best in potions! And why he is the laziest. I'm sorry man," Harry sympathised.

"Hey no worries! All I care about is passing this year. And not having to give up Quidditch. Anyway, Malfoy can not afford to be a prick about this. What would it look like if he was unable to teach me! And if he turns into an insufferable Slytherin wanker, I will just leave," Oliver smiled.

That was why Harry liked Oliver. Not much got him down. Even if they lost at Quidditch, after a small rant he was back on his feet, trying new tactics. They carried on in silence until they got to the library.

"Do you want me to take your broom up to your room. Save you having to watch it in the library?" asked Harry. it was a small eccentric quirk of Olivers that he refused to leave his broom in the broom shed, preferring to have it in his room. He had claimed that it was because his first broom had be sabotaged in his second year, but not many truly believed him. Oliver smiled thankfully and handed his broom to the dark haired boy. And with a small wave of his hand, Oliver descended into the Library.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hogworts library was abnormally quite. It was a September afternoon and a golden light shone from the windows and a crisp clean small drifted throughout the rooms. Oliver leisurely walked in between the aisles of tables, eyes scanning the room for a tell tell blond. Reaching the end of the long room, Oliver saw him. He was sitting at one of the corner tables, reading from a large book. Oliver gave one long sigh, fixed a smile in place and approached the distracted Slytherin.

'Please don't let him be a prat! Please let us just get on with this! I will be nice as long as he is deal? Deal.'

He had just about reached the table when two stormy eyes skidded up to meet his own hazel ones. In the golden light, the silver boy looked ethereal, surreal and surprising cold. Oliver found it strangely...extract.

"Not cutting into practise am I Wood?" Draco drawled sitting back in the chair. Oliver cast a brief glance down at his Quidditch uniform before replying:

"Well I had just got ready for practise when Sna- Professor Snape told me. I cancelled the practise but did not bother to get changed as i would have been late otherwise."

"No need to explain yourself to me Wood. Its not like it matters to me anyway. Although I think scheduling a time for these little sessions would be the first thing we do." as the fair boy said this he reached for his timetable.

A two-minuet discussion later and it was all agreed. Admittedly, both boys would have longer days, but that could not be helped.

"Professor Snape has given me a list of everything we need to cover. I would prefer it if we could get through it quickly and without too much bother. Think you could handle that Wood," enquired Draco's sarcastic voice.

Oliver gave a silent sigh and decided to just be upfront. If he had to be here, he was not going to be treated like this.

"Look Malfoy,you don't like me, and I certainly am not fond of you, but I don't want to be here any more then you do. I can think of much better ways to spend my time and I am sure you can too. However, I think the time would pass quicker and be more enjoyable if we were more civil to each other. I am not talking about sitting together at lunch and wishing each other luck before matches, but just in these sessions. Do you think you can mature enough to do that?"

Draco stared. Oliver stared back.

"What do you mean by civil Wood," asked Draco, reluctantly. He had to admit the griffindor had a point. He had nothing against Wood personally anyway. At least this way the whole situation may be over quicker.

"Don't talk down to me. And no low blows. Like about how we lost the quidditch cup.In fact it would be smoother if we refrained from insults full stop."

"Don't ask for much do you Wood"

"Whats it gonna hurt?"

"My pride, my Slytherin sense of honour, my morales, my principles which I am pretty sure are the same thing."

Oliver smirked before relying, "Nothing of real importance to a Slytherin then eh?"

"I thought you said no insults," Draco muttered.

"You have not agreed yet." pointed out Oliver.

Draco found himself trying to keep a sudden smile hidden. It had been a long time since he had been able to have a witty conversation. Crabbe and Goyle could barley manage words with more the one syllable, Pansy knew nothing of wit , and Blaise was the most boring person ever given breath.

'By the gods I must be desperate, he thought, turning to a Griffindore for conversation.'

"Fine. If it would make the time go quicker I agree. One more thing though. Not a word of anything gets out to those little friends of yours."

"Same to you," Oliver found himself replying.

"O, and just so you know, I am agreeing to this for purely selfish reasons," Draco casually informed Oliver.

"I would not expect anything else! If you were doing it for any other reason I would think you ill and take you to the hospital.I mean honestly, an unselfish Slytherin! Its like a slow Ravenclaw. Or a friendly Snape. It boggles the mind! It would be a freak of nature."

"A Griffindor with sarcasm.There's another freak of nature."

"Who said I was being sarcastic?"

He was promptly kicked in the shin. Oliver jerked back and began to vigorously rub his throbbing leg.

"What was that for?"

"I though we agreed no insults." Draco informed with an air of boredom.

"That was not an insult!" Oliver exclaimed.

"Well I felt insulted." Draco tartly replied.

By the end of the session, both boys legs were covered in bruises.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Harry was laying on his bed reading a quidditch magazine he had borrowed from Ron when Oliver popped in for his broom. Indicating to the far corner of the room Harry asked:

"How did it go? Was Malfoy a total twat?"

"Malfoy as OK. Not good , not bad. We just came to some agreements. Hopefully we can end this stupid tutoring thing in a few months anyway. He said it would not take too long to learn the material." came Olivers carefully worded reply.

"And you believed him!" came Harry's dubious reply. Oliver took a deep breath and stated:

"Why would he lie? Malfoy is a decent tutor. It should not take to long. Anyway, we come up with some ground rules, to help things go smoother. And, as much as I hate to admit this, He is an OK bloke. For a slytherin. And a prat. And a Malfoy. Any way, I am exhausted! See you around Harry. Thanks for looking after my broom. Night."

And with that, the elder left.

Walking back to his own room, Oliver felt annoyed. He had had more fun with Malfoy then he had let on. The lad was quite witty, with a dry sarcastic humour that suited Olivers own. And he was a more then decent tutor. They had already covered three of the topics, and Oliver was quite confident with them.

With an uncommon look of concentration on his face, Olive wondered why there was such bad blood between Slytherin and Griffindor. Beyond the Quidditch Cup and the House Cup, there was not any reason for the permanent feud between the two. Reaching his own room, Oliver shrugged off his train of thought, and went about re-arranging the practise schedule.

Meanwhile, in Harry's room, the dark haired boy felt suddenly annoyed with Oliver. What was the Quidditch captain doing? Decent tutor or not, Malfoy was Malfoy, and a Slytherin,and therefor could not be trusted, liked respected, or admired.

Still...

Harry suddenly felt sad that he was apparently missing something about Draco Malfoy. And annoyed that Oliver could see it.

With a rough sigh, he grabbed the magazine, and tried to read.

"Tried" being the main word...

A/N

This is my first fic and i would appreciate any reviews,comments, improvements etc that you have.

More reviews the faster I type. i am currently toying with the idea os come Oliver/Draco in this fic...What do you think? There WILL be Harry/Draco though.

Thanks for your time.

Please Review