I'm training him in Defence against the Dark Arts. I've got some experience with teaching, dating back to the days of Dumbledore's Army, and I do have a knack for it, though I say so myself.
I'm really motivated, too. Because I just know he's in danger.
But Draco doesn't take things seriously. He keeps calling me Professor, and constantly uses Expelliarmus. It makes our wands dance around each other mid-air. The two have a special relationship, it's like they know it's not a real fight.
It's rather nice, but it's making training difficult.
The worst thing is, he still can't conjure a Patronus. I force him to practice every Sunday. Someone set that Dementor on him. Regardless of whether it was his father or someone else, it could happen again.
Lately he has made some progress. He has managed a glimmering fog that looks like a big, shapeless beast. Only it never fully materializes into a corporal Patronus, it simply dissolves after two or three seconds.
Thankfully he's really good at duelling. His reflexes haven't dimmed one bit; if anything, they've sharpened since we fought each other in Hogwarts. When I compliment him on his skills after he has sent me skidding across the whole length of my flat's hallway one night, he tells me it's all thanks to my special gift as a teacher, and engages me in a discussion about my professional future.
He wants me to quit the Auror Department and go into teaching instead. He's saying he's worried about my safety, and I just love that. I also love being an Auror, though, and I tell him that.
Being Draco Malfoy, he doesn't admit defeat that easily. He informs me that the position of Professor for Defence against the Dark Arts in Hogwarts has recently been newly advertised, yet again, then suggests I send an application, just so I'll know my options.
He knows the idea to go back to Hogwarts as a teacher appeals to me. And he also knows how to cut short his training sessions without me really noticing. There's a sly in Slytherin for a reason.
He likes watching me fight, though.
"Show me how you do it," he asks when I tell him we've got to get back to work, and then he settles back to watch me send a hologram of Voldemort crash against the wall.
"Shit, that's just so drop-dead sexy, Harry. Do it again. That really works for me."
And I do it, although I know I shouldn't let him manipulate me like that. Only knowing he's watching me with his eyes full of stars is really working for me, too.
Yeah, it is hard to train him.
Pun intended.