"Oh come on Malfoy, you just need to think of a happy thought!" Harry said, getting increasingly frustrated with his student.
"I'm trying, you fuckwit." Draco replied, gritting his teeth. "But the more you interrupt, the harder it is to keep my memory in mind with your ugly mug appearing in my mind." He hadn't managed to get so much as a wisp of a patronus despite spending two hours in the Room of Requirement with Potter.
"I don't see how my face could do anything but improve your memories with Crabbe. Or is it Goyle?" Harry smirked. "Maybe the thought you are holding in your mind just isn't strong enough. What memory are you thinking of?"
"That's private, Potter!" Draco absolutely could not tell Harry what he was remembering, particularly as it happened to relate to a certain bushy-haired, once buck-toothed witch that Potter was rather fond of. "Though maybe I ought to use the memory of breaking your nose and leaving you on the train our first day back." Draco gave his wand a quick flick and brought one of the large overstuffed cushions flying into Harry's legs, knocking him over onto the floor.
"Now this is a view I remember. Its all coming back to me now," Draco said with a satisfied look.
Harry frowned, his green eyes smaller behind the rims of his glasses. He absentmindedly rubbed his nose where Malfoy had stamped on it. Thank Godric Tonks found him before the train returned to London. If Harry were honest with himself, his pride had taken more a kick than his face. He got wearily to his feet.
"Listen Malfoy, I'm just trying to help. If you'd li-"
"Ok, ok Saint Potter! I get it! You are sacrificing your precious time with your ginger boyfriend when you could be polishing each other's broomsticks!"
Harry sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose tightly trying desperately to keep his temper in check. It was getting harder and harder to do. He breathed in, thinking of the progress his friends in Dumbledore's Army made last year. If Neville could do it, Malfoy could too. As much as Harry hated to admit it, Malfoy was a very capable wizard.
"Right we're going to try it again. Remember, 'expecto patronum'."
Draco took a deep breath and focused on the memory. Her curly brown hair bouncing as she walked towards him, her faint smile as she turned to call back to another Gryffindor, the way she walked right back into his arms and stumbled. Draco could still remember the faint smell of caramel and something he couldn't quite name but was so completely Hermione. The feeling of her small and soft hands clutching at his sleeves in surprise. The shock in her gold flecked eyes as she turned to see who had caught her.
"Expecto patronum!"
A silvery wisp shot out of his wand and disappeared. Harry gasped, "Excellent! We're finally getting somewhere."
"Sorry to have kept you waiting so long," drawled Draco, sneering at Harry. "We can't all be the Chosen One. Besides, that was barely more than a hippogriff's fart."
"Still, it's something we can work with." Harry insisted.
Ugh, Gryffindors and their endless positivity.
"Shall we call it a night then? It's getting close to curfew and we don't want people to get suspicious about where you've been," said Harry, looking at the clock on the wall.
"Indeed," said Draco. "Pansy is annoyingly observant and has started asking about where I've been. I can't very well say that I've been studying either, my grades have been abysmal this year."
"Aren't you getting all your work done?" Harry asked, curiously. Malfoy had always gotten Outstanding or Exceeds Expectations in every single piece of work, seemingly with very little effort.
"It's a bit hard to do with all my evenings taken up with Occlumency with Snape, and this Defence nonsense with you! I'm not even playing Quidditch anymore" Draco said bitterly, his signature sneer forming on his face. "I don't even know why I need all of this! My aunt already taught me Occlumency and all I've been able to do with you is less substantial than what Goyle can produce after a few too many Brussel sprouts!" His fists were balled up by his sides, his expression arranged carefully. It took a great deal of effort to hide the resentment and bitterness from showing.
"Well, could you tell Snape that you need the time for your studies? Could he help you catch up at all?"
"Have you not met our professor, Potter? Does he seem the type to tutor anyone of his students?"
"But you're his godson, and obviously his favourite –"
"It's not happening, Potter. I would need someone else to do it. And I doubt that any of our professors would bother with me," Draco muttered. He was increasingly resentful with the world and the hand he had been dealt.
"We'll figure it out, mate." Harry reached out to pat Draco on the shoulder, momentarily forgetting himself.
Draco's eyes widened and he flinched away from Harry's hand. His face twisted in disgust. "I don't need your pity and I am most certainly not your mate. I am sick and tired of all this!"
With that, Draco hastily grabbed his bag and left the Room of Requirement, slamming the door behind him.
With a huff, Harry looked around the room and collected his cloak and the map from his bag. He saw something under the table and bent to pick it up. It was some parchment that had fluttered out of Draco's bag. Harry unrolled it and saw it was a Potions homework that they had handed in on the Draught of Living Death before the Christmas holidays. Professor Slughorn had already marked it with a large red 'Poor' at the top.
There was no way Draco would accept any help with his studies from Harry – particularly as Harry rarely got better grades than he did, D.A.D.A. being the obvious exception. What Malfoy needed was someone whose academic ability was recognised, someone discreet and above all patient.
Harry suddenly grinned widely. I've got the perfect person, he thought.