A/N I'm still waiting to see if anyone spotted the language joke in the previous chapter :) Yeah, I'm kind of a geek...
Chapter Four:
If you are approaching a Granian which you know may run away from you, your best course of action is to keep it moving. Hold something in your hand, such as your wand or stick, which can act as an extension of your arm. Use your extended arm to control the Granian's speed and direction. To start with, the Granian may resist; it may try to stop or gallop away. Don't let the Granian make those decisions. If it tries to stop, tell it clearly and firmly to TROT.
Extract from "From Wild Beast to Wizard's Steed, a how-to guide on taming Granian".
Lying on his bed, Draco had performed the Locomotor spell on his solid gold Gobstone set and was indifferently watching them dance in circles above his head.
He felt... restless.
Granger had been pulled away on prefect duties by McGargoyle and hadn't been able to meet in the Library for a few days, leaving Draco aware of a vague feeling of discontent. In one sense, it was good timing – having overplayed his hand last time, a few days apart would help soften the effects. As long as it didn't go on too long – Draco did not want to have to start all over again from square one.
So that left him trying to be patient – something he had never excelled at – and with a great deal more free time on his hands. He should have been relishing the rest. Instead, he was bored.
Even torturing others had lost something of its zest. Not that he was losing his edge – it was just difficult to find the mental energy for these things when he had Project Kiss-met taking every ounce of his ingenuity.
His mind drifted back to the last study session with Granger, reliving the moment their hands had touched...
The door crashed open and one of his roommates, Zabini, sauntered in. His lip curled in a supercilious sneer when he saw what Draco was doing. "Bored by any chance, Malfoy?" he drawled.
"Don't be jealous, Zabini. I'm sure you could master this spell if you practised hard enough."
Zabini snorted, then started to smirk. "Well, we can't all benefit from Granger's tutelage, can we?"
The Gobstones wavered for a split second, one almost dropping, before Draco regained control. Deliberately, he retained his posture, arms tucked under his head, knowing how crucial it was that he remain nonchalant.
"Oh, heard about that, did you?"
"Theo got it from Bulstrode," Zabini replied, looking smug. "So, what's the story, Draco? Punishing Mummy and Daddy for not buying you something or just curious to see what Muggle food tastes like?"
"Hardly," Draco scoffed. "Dumbledore put me up to it."
One of Zabini's eyebrows shot up, his attitude one of amused scepticism. "Dumbledore?"
"Yep." Draco kept his gaze on the dancing balls. "Don't you remember the Hat's nauseating song at the beginning of the year? Dumbledore's on a house unity kick – says we have to stand together, and that just because the Dark Lord didn't succeed last time, doesn't mean he won't next time."
Zabini still looked sceptical, but Draco could tell he had thrown him. "And Dumbledore decided the only way to bring about peace and harmony for all wizardkind was to force you and Granger to have private study sessions together?"
"Think about it, Zabini." Draco delighted in throwing Zabini's condescending tone back at him. "I'm the scion of a paramount and powerful pureblood family – a Malfoy, no less – and foremost among Slytherins." He ignored Zabini's small noise of disgust. "And she's the bloody Gryffindor Princess, best friend of sodding Harry Potter and a massive player for the pro-Muggle camp. Who better to lead the way?"
Zabini wavered, but refused to crumble. "Why just you two? And why not publicise it?"
Draco shrugged. "Knowing the old coot, he'll have several other such schemes up his sleeve. And as for the other, he wanted it to look natural, not enforced from on high."
Zabini took one more pot shot. "So if I ask Granger about this, she'll confirm your story?"
Draco repressed the spike of panic he felt at this query; with some effort he kept his tone even, shading into boredom. "She might, but then again, we were both sworn to secrecy, and you know how Gryffindors are about keeping their word." Draco's tone made clear the wondering contempt with which both he and Zabini regarded this mindset.
Zabini was silent, out of ammunition.
Draco judged he had left it long enough for his exit not to appear suspicious. He was desperate to get away from Zabini and his incisive questions.
Seizing on the nearest excuse, he grabbed his Firebolt from where it was mounted above his bed. Moving towards the door, he threw one last assault over his shoulder. "And as you can see, 'Mummy and Daddy' always buy me whatever I want."
Striding through the green-lit dungeon, Draco found himself thinking that his flying ruse was actually rather a good idea. He had won the skirmish with Zabini, but the encounter had left him irritable and resentful that he had to lie. Not that he had a problem with lying, of course, but why should he have to? It was his bloody business who he chose to spend time with. He was a Malfoy. They made their own rules.
Some fresh air would help blast the strange restlessness from his mind and the tension from his body.
Emerging from behind the stone wall entrance, Draco began the long trek up from the subterranean levels and out on to the grounds.
It was en route to the Quidditch pitch that, to his surprise and inner amusement, he actually did accidentally run into Granger. She must have been on one of her walks.
She had a curious look on her face, somewhere between wariness and a smile. "What are you grinning at, Malfoy?"
Draco hadn't realised he was until she pointed it out.
"Fortuitous timing," he replied.
"What do you mean?"
"Us running into each other," he clarified, whilst mentally running through subjects, since there was no outstanding work for Ancient Runes. "I thought we could brainstorm for the Potions assignment."
"Potions?" Granger raised an eyebrow. "You want to study for Potions too?"
Draco shrugged. "Why not? We've both done well out of the Runes sessions." He gestured back towards the castle with a grand, sweeping gesture. "Shall we go to the Library?"
"Now?" Granger looked slightly taken aback. "But you're carrying a broom."
Draco stared at it; in his excitement he had completely forgotten its presence. He decided to make use of it: pressing it against Granger's back, he applied gentle but firm pressure.
"Absolutely now," Draco replied, as he herded her in the direction he wanted her to go. "Come on, Granger – chop-chop. Time waits for no man."
Granger quirked a brow pointedly – it appeared to be a favoured expression of hers – and tried to dig her heels in. "Isn't that a Muggle reference?"
"King Canute was a wizard," Draco disagreed. "Why else would he command the tide to go back?"
"But he failed." Granger pointed out.
"Only because he chose the Aqua Eructo spell and ended up spraying himself in the face." He shook his head sadly. "See? You didn't know that. Clearly you need my help – we had better get to the Library as quickly as possible." Draco grinned in triumph when Granger chuckled; she had a pleasant laugh.
Taking advantage of her relaxed posture, he wrapped his hand round her upper arm and started dragging her towards the Library. To his slight chagrin, she slipped her arm free from his grasp, but then continued walking alongside him, chattering about other famous Muggle legends.
Okay, he decided, let's call that one a draw.