The small bit of aptitude that Granger had shown in Potions had quickly waned. Explosions and sleeve-eating acid were the results of some of her worst failures, though the Figgleswort she had managed to tangle in her fringe was an egregious offender as well. The toxic flower had left her with a nasty rash that even earned a grimace from her starry-eyed seventh-year admirer, a boy whose name was unimportant enough that Slughorn could not remember it. Draco, who had not spoken to Granger since the first Slug Club meeting, found it both immensely irritating and wonderfully amusing.

Class had been dismissed, and like he so often was, Draco would be the last out the door. Granger had broken a vial of Acromantula venom and, perhaps in a roundabout attempt to teach Draco some sort of lesson, Slughorn asked him to clean it up while the clumsy Gryffindor visited the hospital wing. He swallowed his dozens of complaints as he scrubbed the contaminated surface with Cleansing Potion; a measly Scouring Charm wouldn't do the trick.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," Professor Slughorn said, finally, clapping him on the shoulder. "I do think that will be enough scrubbing. Powerful Cleansing Potion, that is—I made a few special tweaks and I daresay you could eat off a dragon's backside after just a drop."

Draco tried not to picture such a horrendous image and dropped the rag. Cleaning spills was a job fit for Argus Filch or one of the school's many house-elves, yet somehow, time and time again, he was given the task of sopping up Granger's messes. The Malfoy heir did not know why Slughorn was so determined to make him into the girl's personal slave, but he was growing tired of it.

"Pity those vials went to waste, though. Acromantula venom is pricier than ever these days..." Professor Slughorn rambled.

"Yes, it's a shame, sir. I ought to be getting to Arithmancy, though, so if you'd excuse—"

"Before you go running off, I have a bit of a bone to pick with you," Slughorn admitted. "You see, Mr. Malfoy, I thought I had made myself quite clear during our last little chat, but since you've been neglecting your duties, maybe you thought that I was bluffing."

"Sir, I can explain—"

"There's nothing to explain, boy! You have not met with Miss Granger outside of class or extracurricular activities since one very brief occasion two weeks ago, and as you know, I will have to confer with the headmistress if the agreement is not met. You understand this time, I trust? Surely, it will not happen again?"

Draco might have expected such a speech from Severus Snape, but coming from Horace Slughorn, it seemed utterly ridiculous. The man was hardly strict enough to tell McGonagall much of anything, especially when it came to his star pupil, and even if he did, the most she could do was command Granger to meet with him.

"Well, Professor, considering she dragged me into the Forbidden Forest last time, I'd expect a bit of leniency," Draco spat. "My father may not be as important as he once was, but if my mother were to make a complaint to the Board of Governors, I guarantee they'd be compelled to listen."

"Ah, so it was Miss Granger that hexed you," Slughorn said, thoughtfully, leaning against the table. "I suspected as much..."

Draco sucked in his cheeks. "I didn't say that."

The stout professor studied him for a long moment before saying, "Mr. Malfoy, I needn't ask what differences you and Miss Granger have, as they are obvious, given...recent circumstances. I do, however, ask that you continue with your meetings until your attitude improves."

"I thought it was until her marks improve," Draco said, unable to hide his biting tone, "sir."

"Miss Granger's marks will only improve when you've removed yourself from your archaic beliefs that so many in our house, unfortunately, have. When I charmed your textbook, that was not meant to be a burden, dear boy. It was a gift."

Draco briefly regarded the textbook, which was still lying atop his nearby table. The last time he and the professor discussed he and Granger's punishment, the Head of House had charmed the book to log any time that it came within a small radius of Granger. While Draco understood why Slughorn was sterner with him than he was with the Muggle-born, he still found it to be completely unfair—especially since she was the one hurling hexes.

"And when does Granger get a charm on her textbook, Professor?"

"Mr. Malfoy, I am not sure how to put this lightly, I'm afraid," Slughorn said with a frown. "I don't know that Professor McGonagall has explained this to you, but she asked me to assure that it's perfectly clear to all students. Because of the—er—past year's events, she will have no tolerance at all for intolerance or insubordination. I imagine this goes doubly for you due to your—oh, dear boy, I'm not much good at this, not much good at all… You're a bright young man—certainly, you already know..." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "As your Head of House, the best advice I can give is that you must behave flawlessly while you are here at Hogwarts… Anything less may put you under the headmistress's scrutiny and it would be a downright shame to waste all of that potential…"

Draco suddenly felt a pang of guilt. He knew that Slughorn was not being overbearing just for the sake of it; he wanted the best for Draco, and ever since Severus Snape's passing, the blond teenager did not know he would ever have such guidance within the walls of Hogwarts again.

"Well, thank you, Professor. I really do need to get to Professor Vector's, though. She docks points for lateness."

"I won't keep you any longer, then... I'll write a note for you, but I know she's been getting a bit bothered with those. Last time I sent you with one, she asked if you'd been forging them..." As Draco picked up his book, the round man added, "You will plan something soon, though, won't you, Mr. Malfoy? I do think that if you approach this with an open mind, you'll find Miss Granger can teach you just as much as you can teach her."

Draco, while he doubted that very much, nodded and simply said, "Yes, Professor."

Number charts had never been Draco's strong suit, but if he had known how truly impossible they would be at the N.E.W.T. level, he never would have opted to take Arithmancy. Professor Vector kept her lips pressed into a firm line as she passed back graded assignments, and after Draco saw his marks, he had to stifle a groan. Not only had he not passed, but there was a note scribbled across the top that read: MUCH IMPROVEMENT NEEDED. He avoided the professor's gaze for the rest of the period, instead carefully watching the back of a very messy head of hair.

Hermione Granger, despite her social standing, was a thorn in his side. After Professor Slughorn's comments and the overwhelming sense of hopelessness that he always felt in Arithmancy, the last person he wanted to talk to was the girl that hexed him—the same girl that had slapped him in their third year. He was, however, obligated to do so. If he knew anything about Minerva McGonagall, it was that she was strict, and like Slughorn, he suspected she was itching for any opportunity to bar him from the grounds. Draco had chosen to spend another year at Hogwarts for a reason, and he was determined to finish it, no matter the odds.

"Remember to review chapters seven through ten!" Professor Vector said as students started shuffling out of her classroom. "There will be a quiz next week!"

Due to the placement of his seat, Draco was one of the last people out of the room. By the time he made it out the door, Granger was already halfway down the hallway, her bushy locks bouncing behind her with each hasty stride. Fortunately, his long legs carried him much faster than hers did, and it was not long before he fell into step beside her.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she growled.

"It's not anything that I want, Granger," he retorted. "It is, however, something of an obligation."

She let out a derisive laugh. "If you think I'm going to willingly spend even one single second with you, you couldn't be more wrong. I'll go to Zigg, Slughorn, and McGonagall if I have to, but I am not—"

"I welcome you to do so. Merlin knows you have a much better chance of putting an end to this than I do, but until you do, we have to keep meeting. I could be in an awful lot of trouble if we don't—possibly even expelled."

She stopped and narrowed her eyes. "And why would I care about that?"

"Because I imagine, if I were to get into trouble, you would too," he casually elucidated. "Usually, the school frowns upon insubordination, but leading your classmates into the Forbidden Forest and hexing them? Well, I suspect that's severe enough to have to involve McGonagall."

"Are you blackmailing me?"

His gaze, he knew, was telling. "Sunday—one o'clock. We meet in the library this time. Pansy won't give us any trouble."

Granger started walking again, though her purposeful hustle had been replaced by a miserable drag of her feet. After a silent moment of consideration, she said, "And if I convince Slughorn to let us off?"

"Then I'll be just as pleased as I'm sure you'll be."

The girl examined every inch of him, from his brow to his toes. Draco had been studied in such a way more times than he could count, and still, he detested it. She was searching for a lie. If she searched for too long, she might find it.

"Alright then," she finally conceded. "Not the library, though. Madam Pince and I—well, we had a bit of a disagreement. She's sort of—ahem—banned me—temporarily."

It was Draco's turn to search for the lie. He had never heard of anyone being banned from the library. "And why is that?"

"I sort of—well, it doesn't matter." Embarrassment pinkened her cheeks. "We have to meet in the Forbidden Forest."

"Fine," he said through gritted teeth. Still, he did not think the Forbidden Forest was the best of their many options, but her attitude made it difficult enough to plan their meetings. "Meet me by the oaf's hut, but I'm warning you, Granger: if you hex me, I will tell Zigg."

"And if you call me a Mudblood again, you'll be lucky if all I do is hex you."

The path through the Forbidden Forest was just as uninviting as Draco remembered. Great branches darted to and fro, sometimes of their own accord rather than in the direction of the wind, and that was not the worst of it: The stench of rotting animal carcasses permeated the air and the blanket of leaves lining the deer trail hid patches of treacherous mud that made Draco slide down small foothills, despite the Traction Charm on his shoes. Only by jagged rays of sunlight and the Wand-Lighting Charm could he make out the back of Granger's bushy head.

"Are we nearly there?" he asked, shooting a spell at an elm branch that was swinging madly. "I've seen at least six places that would've been perfectly acceptable and my shoes are covered in mud. I get you're used to Weasley and his hand-me-downs, but these were expensive, Granger."

"You really are impatient," she sighed, stepping over a bundle of exposed roots. "Those 'perfectly acceptable' places are stargazing circles; we wouldn't want to disrespect the centaurs and intrude."

"Stargazing circles?" Draco echoed, incredulously. "It's midday. There are no stars to be gazed at!"

"Yes, but it's the principle, isn't it?" she said resolutely, edging around a large, open area.

Draco, who had no desire to trek through the Forbidden Forest until nightfall, crossed through the small spaces between the trees and stepped upon the soil of the clearing. Suddenly, the welcome warmth of the autumnal sun touched his pale skin, embracing him like a long-lost friend. On the far side of the wide space, he could see a path that was far more traveled, likely by the heavy fall of centaur hooves. Whether Granger was daft or brilliant for avoiding their stead, he did not know.

"Malfoy, we can't!"

"Ah, but as you can see," Draco said, smugly climbing atop a large boulder, "we most certainly can."

"It's disrespectful!"

"Well, suit yourself," he said with a shrug, "but I'm not about to spend my entire day looking for some secret place just because some horse-men want to stargaze at an hour past noon."

"Horse-men?" Granger repeated, stalking towards him. "That is an absolutely foul insult and you know it!"

Draco pulled out his textbook and looked at her feet. "Whatever they are, you're on their territory now and they haven't attacked you yet, so I must assume it's safe."

Jaw clenched, she took three steps back towards the brush. The girl always had a holier-than-thou air about her, but even Draco was shocked by her impossible stubbornness.

"Didn't that idiot gamekeeper of yours keep a giant here? What we're doing isn't worse than that."

"Hagrid is not an idiot!" Her voice faltered. "He's friends with the centaurs. They—they respect him."

"Then they must be idiots too," he sniggered, flipping through pages. "Come on, then. Are we going to study or not?"

Glaring still, Granger succumbed and marched towards him once more, her arms crossed. "I still don't agree with this, Malfoy." Refusing to sit, she added, "I see you got your bag back."

"Pansy brought it to me," he explained, shortly. "Now, are you just going to stand there or are you going to wipe the drool from your mouth and learn something?"

"Pansy just brought it to you, did she? Even after that scene in the library?" Disbelief laced her words—so did poison.

"That's right."

"Did you do something to her?"

Draco snorted. "I didn't put her under the Imperius Curse, if that's what you're asking."

"That wasn't what I was asking at all," she lied, distractedly. Every few seconds, she would look around, as though she thought someone was watching them. Nearby woodland animals seemed less bothered by her than she was of them, gasping as they leaped from tree to tree or the wind blew their everyday sounds in her direction. "Did you hear that?"

"It was a squirrel, Granger. I told you we could've done this in the library," Draco reminded her with a roll of his eyes, "but you opted for the alternative."

"I'm banned from there. We already went over this."

"Yes, but you failed to tell me why."

Her face flushed. She was still standing, determined not to sit down. "I—erm—I just did something to a book, okay? Madam Pince c-caught me."

"Well, well, well! Breaking all sorts of rules lately, aren't we?" He gestured her satchel. "Speaking of books, you ought to get yours out. Not much to be learned staring at the bloody trees."

After examining her surroundings once more, she groaned and plopped onto the hard ground beneath a lone sycamore.

"The grass is wet!"

"Not to remind you again, but you are the one that wanted to meet here."

"Yes, well, we won't be seen together here, will we?" Granger said, her tone sour. She gingerly opened the cover of Exceptional Potions for Exemplary Students, confirming a suspicion that Draco had had since they initially planned to meet.

"You weren't really banned from the library, were you?"

"Maybe I wasn't, maybe I was, maybe I just didn't want to be ridiculed again," she answered, angrily.

He scrutinized her for a moment, trying to decide whether or not she deserved to know she had wounded him. Once he came to his conclusion, he said, "If you didn't want to be ridiculed, you'd do something about that hair of yours."

The wild-headed girl scowled.

"Page ninety-nine."

"Er—right. Thanks."

For nearly an hour, they studied. Set aside a handful of off-color remarks and gentle banter, the two of them worked civilly, occasionally basking in Granger's academic successes and quickly remedying her few failures. Draco, mostly satisfied with her work, was beginning to put his book back into his schoolbag, but before he could, the bag fell off of the boulder he was seated upon.

His Arithmancy book had tumbled to the ground, and along with it, there was a piece of parchment—a piece of parchment that he recognized all too well. Before he could seize it, Granger picked it up.

"'Much improvement needed'?" she read. "Malfoy, are you failing Arithmancy?"

"That's none of your business, Granger," he muttered, reaching for the marked number chart.

"Hold on," she said, scanning the page. "How did you get twenty-seven here? You should've—oh, I see what you did..."

"Give it back!"

Pursing her lips, she handed it to him. "I could help you, you know. I'm tied for top of the class."

"I hadn't noticed."

He folded the parchment and tucked it back into his schoolbag, quietly praying that she would find any reason at all to change the subject to something less horribly shameful. Even if it meant confronting a group of angry centaurs, he would be gracious for the diversion.

"Well, if you want a few pointers," she propositioned, "we can always extend one of our meetings."

The thought of spending more time with Granger made Draco more nervous than he had been in a long while. Yet, somehow, his invitation spilled from his mouth before he could stop it.

"Perhaps next Sunday?"

Then, she smiled at him—a genuine smile—the kind that he had only seen her flash at Potter and Weasley. If his heart had been beating faster when she offered to help him, it was positively thudding against his chest wall as he waited for her answer.

"Sure. We can meet by Hagrid's again—same time as today." Her face flushed a bit. "Erm—we probably should walk back together. We're pretty deep in the forest and it's mating season for Acromantulas; they'll be more aggressive than usual."

"And why is it that you failed to tell me that?"

"Because you never would've agreed to come here if I did," she laughed. "Come on, then. If we leave now, we'll get back before they wake."

Draco, rather than trudging behind, stayed close to her side, wary of their surroundings and especially prepared to curse anything that had eight legs. Escorting a girl, despite the location, had never made Draco feel sick, but as he strode beside her along the narrow deer trail, he fought the urge to vomit, quietly wondering if Weasley and Potter felt like that all the time.

Author's Note: Happy Christmas to those that celebrate! Happy holidays or happy Wednesday to those that don't. The best gift you could give me is reviews - good or bad. :)