Draco Malfoy was lying on his bed, with his curtains carefully spelled shut. Not that that would stop Goyle or Crabbe, if they really wanted to get in - they had the annoying habit of collapsing the entire bed, which was inconvenient, as then you'd have to fix the bed before you could actually get out of it, the curtains being sealed and all. Luckily, he hadn't needed help with that spell since first year. Slytherin Prefects had a wicked sense of humor, and it ran acerbic at times. Still, the letter would be completely wrecked in that case, so nobody would know what he was writing. It was all good.
Girls liked stories, didn't they? he thought, spinning his quill (something one of his tutors had long ago taught him, as a way to keep him from chewing on it, which besides from ruining the thing, also had the inconvenient habit of leaving inkstains on all and sundry).
Once there was a girl named Pandora,
Who got a terribly full amphora,
She couldn't wait to see what lay unseen,
Out of the jar tumbled devils hungry and mean.
The last of course, she snatched from midair,
Not valiant hope, but blackest despair.
Back it went into the jar of misfortune.
Dumbfounded man goes innocent forth
Through all manner of conflagration.
Never dreaming what Pandora was worth.
Think not, I seek to compare you to Pandora -
Neither are you the demons, batlike and with stings
You are the amphora itself, in truth.
And woe be to any who might break your wings.
Draco read it over again, scattering sand across it (nevermind what that would do to his sheets.) Straightening, he sealed it without wax - his tutors' conscience plucking at him, telling him how informal it was. But it would do, and she wouldn't care. Wouldn't know to care, even.
Two miscreants crouched below a half-height bookshelf, peeking out through cracks in the books that they themselves had made. How very interesting, Blaise Zambini thought, staring at the black and red mops beneath him. Quickly, he dropped to a crouch too, and asked, in that Slytherin-silent voice, "What's going on?"
It was all worth it, he thought, as he saw the two Gryffindors levitate nearly a foot in the air. "What are you doing here?" Ron hissed at him, his hand on his wand despite that if Blaise wanted to get them in trouble there were far easier ways.
"What do you think? Watching you." Blaise said affably. "You look like you've found something interesting..."
Harry was studying him, with those bright green eyes, somehow managing an inscrutable look - and Blaise would give a lot to know how he had managed that, the Gryffindor's temper and bluntness were legendary. "Have a look." He said in the same affable tone that Blaise had used - although Blaise hadn't missed the fact that Potter's wand was out, and his motion to "have a look" really meant putting Blaise's back to the two Gryffindors. In the library, he thought decisively. They aren't about to start something in the library.
Blaise looked, and concealed a smile - it was Draco and Granger, sitting at the same table, piled high with books. Well, there was a pile in the middle and it looked like it would be increasing by the hour.
"Why are you spying?" Blaise asked Potter, acting oblivious to the red headed terror starting to turn red in the face as well.
"Only wanted to know whether they're competing on who can get more books, or fighting over the books they do have." Potter said mildly.
"Competing. Granger won't risk getting kicked out of the library for love or money." Blaise said confidently, in a low tone that was sure not to carry.
"And Malfoy?" Weasley asked, somehow managing to keep enough of a leash on his temper to attack a fellow student in the library. Zambini was certain that last time someone had been attacked in the library, Pince had thrown enough of a fit that the rapscallion had taken to bribing other members of his house to get books for him.
"Draco isn't about to lose to Granger. Too competitive to even consider it, really." Zambini said firmly.
Potter nodded, still studying Blaise, and then asked quietly, "You're pretty good at potions, right?"
A pin might have dropped, in the time it took Blaise to reconsider his options thrice. Finally, he nodded, and said, "Not as good as them, but fair enough."
"You think you could tutor me? Hermione's too busy and I don't want to bother her." Harry said, as Blaise bit back a oath about bloody self-sacrificing Gryffindors. This would do nicely, nicely indeed.
"I'm not going to do it for free, you realize?" Blaise asked coldly.
"I think I could get Neville to tutor you in Herbology."
"I'm good at Herbology. But, from what I hear, you're tops at Defense. Why didn't you offer that?"
Potter actually stretched his arms (Blaise had to stop himself from pushing those hands down under the top of the bookshelf. that would look more suspicious, not less) and then shrugged, saying, "Didn't think of it I suppose. You want that, instead?"
Blaise nodded firmly, thinking with no small gratitude exactly how much of a conversation starter Draco Malfoy was becoming. Not that he'd tell him, of course - his ego didn't need any more stroking. But a gift or two might not be inappropriate. Blaise stood, and walked away without whistling like he'd like to (library, of course). But it was turning out to be a surprisingly good day.
[a/n: library scene is after supper. Read and Review!]