I'd like to say a big big thank you for those who have followed this story and reviewed, especially mrshaloona. I hope you enjoy chapter 4!
Draco woke the next morning. He knew before he had even opened his eyes that he was not in his bed. He had fallen asleep at his desk before he'd written much at all. He carefully lifted his head up and opened his eyes. He was momentarily worried as he seemed to have lost his eyesight in his left eye; he quickly realised his homework had stuck to his face. He gently removed it from his cheek, sighing. He had written a pitiful amount.
It was early still, the sun's light barely filtering through the depths of the lake. Draco decided that if this was the day he would be spending time with her, he would need to be ready. He stood up and stretched his arms above his head, trying to loosen the knots and cramps that had developed while he lay slumped over his desk. He noticed his shirt was as crumpled and wrinkled as a Flobberworm. His mother would have been horrified. Lady Malfoy would never have allowed her son's current appearance.
A shower then, a change of clothes and definitely breakfast.
He shoved his papers roughly into his bag and went to his dorm room to collect a fresh set of clothes. No spell could help the state that his uniform was in.
"Morning, Draco," said Theo, whose reflection stared back at him from the mirror. "You look gorgeous! Like you've had a restful sleep."
"Whatever, Nott," growled Draco. He went over to his bed and rifled through his drawers.
"Have you got sore shoulders from sleeping on a desk last night? Do you need a massage?"
"Ugh! Theo, must you make such jokes? You are hard to tolerate in the morning," Blaise said as he pulled back the curtains around his bed, dropped to the floor and started his daily set of push ups.
"Oh! Blaise, my Italian stallion! You know I can make it hard for you whenever you like."
"Get bent, Theo," said Blaise.
"Only if you'll do it for me, handsome," Theo winked at Draco coquettishly from the mirror and raised his arms to continue his routine preening.
Goyle stumbled from his bed almost tripping over his curtains, woken by the banter. He rubbed his eyes with his massive fists and gazed blearily at Draco. "What's Gulpalot?"
"What on earth are you talking about, Greg?" Blaise sighed.
"That, Gregory darling, is a very good question. It's when…"
"No. his face," said Goyle, pointing at Draco.
He had a quick look in the mirror and found that the ink had transferred to his face.
"Scourgify!"
The writing disappeared but his skin was red as if rubbed raw, the irritation obvious against his pale complexion.
A quick shower later, Draco felt refreshed and more prepared to take on the day. He walked to breakfast with his fellow Slytherins. As he walked into the Great Hall, he couldn't help but glance at the Gryffindor table where she normally sat. She was alone for now, Potter and Weasley hadn't made it down yet. Granger was idly spreading butter on her usual pastry – how did he even know what her usual even was? Why was he paying attention? – and she had a blissful little smile on her face, the sides of her mouth lifting ever so slightly. The soft winter sunlight streaming in through the windows and from the enchanted ceiling created a gold aura around her.
Typical, Draco thought rolling his eyes. Glowing with her self-righteous goodness.
"Hey mate, you're blocking the way," Blaise said, poking him in the back. "I can squeeze past, but Goyle and Crabbe are right behind me and they need the whole doorway to get through."
A low grunting noise issued from behind him. Draco hastily moved before anyone noticed who he was looking at. He had no idea how he was going to manage later on.
Hermione walked up to the seventh floor corridor a few minutes early to make sure the room was formed exactly as she wanted for her first evening with Malfoy. However, as she neared the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy she saw the door already there. She opened the door carefully and walked in. She looked in awe around the room. No matter how many times she came here, she was still astounded by the incredible nature of magic.
The walls were completely obscured by bookshelves, heavily laden with books on every topic imaginable. The floor was covered with a plush navy carpet. A large desk with two wooden chairs in the same dark wood as the bookshelves sat in the middle of the room.
"Glad to see that punctuality is appreciated by at least one Gryffindor," Malfoy drawled as he leaned against the desk looking at his fingernails. "Potter is always late."
Hermione ignored the dig at Gryffindors and Harry. It wouldn't do to get into an argument before they had even started. "Hello, Malfoy. Shall we get started?" She walked towards the desk giving the sneering boy a wide berth before settling in the chair on the opposite side of the desk. She got her quill and ink pot, and her spare parchment out onto the table.
Malfoy sat opposite her and leaned back so he was balancing on the back legs of his chair with his hands behind his head. "So where will we start, Professor Mudbl-"
"You can stop right there, Malfoy" Hermione glared at him. "If we are to spend much time together we can at least be civil to each other." She lifted her quill and pointed it menacingly at him. Even though there was a table between them, it seemed as though he couldn't but help take a step back. "I will not accept the use of that word at all, nor will I accept condescension from you."
"I bet you can't wait to tell all your little friends in that high tower of yours all about how a simple mudbl-"
Hermione narrowed her eyes.
"- how a muggleborn from a humble background is helping a pureblood Slytherin. I bet that really tickles your fancy."
"Not at all, Malfoy. In fact, I don't think blood has anything to do with it. Besides, we all need help from time to time."
"Ugh, there's that self-righteous attitude again. Do you expect us to hold hands or something now?"
Hermione had had quite enough of his rudeness. "Only if you'd like to. Now, sit down and let's get to work! This vulgar behaviour is beneath someone of your less-than-humble background."
His mouth opened in shock. He leaned forward so all four chair legs rested on the ground once more. She had clearly not reacted the way he had expected.
Excellent, she thought.
"So where shall we start? I know you are taking Defence, Potions, Charms, Arithmancy and Transfiguration. What other N.E.W.T. subjects are you taking this year?"
"Astronomy."
"Well that's great! I can help you with almost all of them. Which would you like to work on today?"
Malfoy lifted his hands and inspected his nails again. He was clearly trying to seem casual about it, but Hermione thought she saw a flicker of some unknown emotion in his eyes.
This can't be easy for him, she thought. I'll need to remember that.
"I'm not sure Granger, what would you suggest?"
"Well how about Potions? Our homework is due in tomorrow. How did you manage with Antidotes?"
Malfoy pulled out his scroll of parchment. He hesitated briefly before handing it to her, his mouth tightening ever so slightly. She would not have noticed had she not been watching him closely. Hermione reached out to take it but as she did, her eyes fluttered up to lock with his. His eyes really were the most amazing colour; a shade or two lighter than a storm cloud with a darker ring around the outside. Flecks of granite and silver surrounded the bottomless black centres. They were utterly mesmerising.
"Granger, I know I am stunningly gorgeous but could we possibly get on with the work?" Malfoy smirked, his previous shyness completely forgotten.
Hermione blinked as if coming out of a trance. She fought to bring her focus away from his eyes, anywhere but his eyes. She looked and found her arm still raised to take the homework, now safely in her hand.
"Oh. Right."
His scroll was indeed measured to two-feet, but he had barely written a quarter of the required amount. She scanned his writing. She felt rather than saw him lean across the table to her. A medley of different emotions she had no wish to name swirled in her tummy.
"Malfoy, this is barely six inches. It's not nearly enough."
Without meaning to, she lifted her gaze to his eyes again and was once more captivated. A flicker of mischief passed across his face, as if he knew a secret or a joke which only he knew. He chuckled.
"You're staring again, Granger."
She exhaled sharply. She hadn't even noticed she was holding her breath.
"Now really! I was assured you are the smartest of the Golden Trio. Are you not able to help me? Do I need to find someone of superior intelligence?"
Hermione spluttered at his insult. She sat straighter in her chair and glowered at him. "To start, you seem to have confused our Charms homework on non-verbal and our Potions homework. You clearly weren't paying any attention when writing this. Most of this work is useless. You barely have two good inches of work here and most of that is what you've copied from the textbook."
Malfoy's mouth fell open, stopping him from interrupting with what she assumed was another useless comment.
"And further, you have Galpolott's theory written wrong. The antidote is equal to more than, not less than the sum of the antidotes for each of the separate poisons.
You have to compensate for the fact that you have many different poisons working together in the same potion. Right, I know where to start now. Do you have your copy of Advanced Potion-Making?"
Malfoy retrieved his copy. It opened to the correct page on its own, and a long black line stretched across the writing.
"I might have fallen asleep at the banality which is this topic," he said. "This is not nearly as interesting as Alchemy."
"But Professor Slughorn said that preparing the antidotes was almost alchemical. See?" She pointed excitedly at the textbook.
"I do see. That's unexpected." Malfoy leaned forward again, but this time they were both so engrossed in the discovery of a shared interest she did not feel the same discomfort as earlier.
Draco was pleasantly surprised at the spirited debate that was sparked by Alchemy. Granger was predictably well read on the subject but had drawn her own conclusions from her reading. By highlighting the similarities of the antidote potion to alchemy he found he was more receptive to what she was saying. An hour passed in relative peace between the two adversaries and Draco thought that it was quite bearable, almost pleasant even. It was made even more satisfying every time Granger lost her train of thought and stared at him again.
"While arguing with you has been mightily entertaining Granger, I really must go. I have to rewrite my essay tonight and maintain my social relationships."
"Gracious, Malfoy! We couldn't possibly have you lose your status as Slytherin Prince, now could we?" Though sarcastic, her tone was more teasing than scathing and Draco found he rather liked being teased by the bushy haired witch.
He snorted. "Prince! A royal title suits me, I think."
"A royal title for a royal pain in the arse." Granger muttered and turned away with a flick of her curls. He knew she wasn't flirting. The witch had missed many of his sexually charge innuendos and was clearly innocent. It didn't stop the twitch in his trousers though as she bent to collect her things from the floor, her skirt lifting half way up smooth and shapely thighs.
"So when am I going to be lectured by you again?"
"How about the day after tomorrow?"
"Yes. Seven sharp?"
She lingered for a moment, seeming to struggle to find words. "If we are to spend so much time together, do you think it would be appropriate for us to use our first names to address each other?"
Draco mulled it over. Her name really was a mouthful, and she was a well-established rival. But he imagined his name falling from those pink lips. He supposed it wasn't a terrible idea.
"That would be acceptable I think," he said. She was looking at him expectantly. He nodded and said, "Hermione."
"Great. I'll see you the day after tomorrow then. Good night, Draco."
A shiver ran up his spine as she spoke his name. Granger walked to the door and Draco allowed her to walk in front of him as a show of manners. In reality, he wanted to see how her skirt would sway with the motion of her hips. Oh, Merlin her hips swayed deliciously as she moved. Gra- Hermione had a natural grace and elegance to her walk that was hidden under her cloak. His eyes were fixed on her behind so he almost bumped into her as she stopped suddenly.
"I almost forgot! You left this behind last time you were here."
She handed him a scroll of paper, and he quickly recognised it as his Charms assignment. He felt the heat rise to his face and any sense of amity he might have felt with her quickly evaporated.
He did not need her to see that.
"Brilliant! So I suppose you and Potter really enjoyed yourselves laughing at my expense. I imagine you thought it amusing that the so-called Slytherin Prince would fall so low!"
Hermione shrank a little under the force of his anger, her brown eyes wide in shock. Even in his temper he noticed they were framed by long and thick eyelashes.
"No, Draco it wasn't like that. We didn't even talk about it!"
"Forgive me! I forgot you are the saviours of us all, Saints Potter and Granger! You are unbearably pious, all of you Gryffindors. I have no idea how any of the other houses even tolerate you. I'll bet that you spend your evenings in your tower talking about the rest of us poor depraved souls. I expect that even makes Weasley feel worthy."
Granger stood taller and stamped her feet. "That's not fair, Malfoy and you know it. I am here to help and I will not ridicule you. If you plan on being irritable and spiteful then you may as well not come back."
She brushed back a stray curl that had fallen into her face, disturbed by her gesticulating. "I will be here to help. But if you aren't willing to act like a decent human, don't come back on Thursday. If you don't come, I'll assume you do not wish to continue our sessions."
Draco was speechless. It didn't matter that he couldn't find the words to say. Granger turned and left the Room of Requirement. His anger deflated as quickly as it rose. He had an uncomfortable sensation in the pit of his stomach, one he was very familiar with.
Get it together, Draco. You are a Malfoy! We do not feel guilt.