Next chapter! Thanks to Aradia1013 and Modges for the reviews, really appreciate your feedback! Here's another chapter to tide you through the weekend :P
"You aren't leaving this greenhouse until you've agreed to tutor me."
The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. He hadn't meant to threaten her, not really, but now Hermione was reaching for her wand and glaring at him as she did so.
She laughed.
"Don't be ridiculous, Malfoy," she snapped, pointing her wand at him, "you couldn't stop me from leaving even if you tried."
He drew his own wand now and smirked at her. Her eyes flashed; his smirk had always annoyed her.
"Try me."
For a long moment they just glared at each other, wands raised. Then, he whirled around, pointed his wand at the door, and yelled "Colloportus!"
The greenhouse door slammed shut, locking itself with an odd squelching noise.
He smirked at her. A muscle underneath Hermione's eye twitched.
She pointed her wand at the door over his shoulder. "Alohamora!"
The door sprang open.
She raised her eyebrows at him and Draco's temper seethed.
"We aren't done here, Granger," he snapped, pointing his wand at the door again, "Colloportus!"
It slammed shut.
"Yes, we are, Malfoy. Alohamora!"
It sprang open.
"Colloportus!"
Slam.
"Alohamora!"
Slam.
"Colloportus!"
"Aloham –"
"Expelliarmus!"
Hermione's wand flew out of her hand. It soared through the air, high over her head, and sailed into Draco's outstretched hand. He smirked at her and pocketed it.
She glared at him. "Give it back, Malfoy!"
"Make me! Now, about this tutoring –"
Draco froze.
He had a split second's warning. Hermione shifted her weight onto the balls of her feet, balled her hands into fists and leaned ever so slightly backwards.
Then, she rugby tackled him.
Her shoulder slammed into his stomach, her arms wrapped around his waist as all the breath was punched straight out of his lungs. He had only the briefest moment to register that Hermione Granger – Hermione Granger, of all people – had practically thrown herself at him before he slammed back down onto the ground, pain exploding across his back and shoulders.
Both wands flew out of his hands.
Hermione darted after them, scrabbling towards them as she tried to pick herself up from the dirt, but Draco was quicker. His hand shot out, grabbing her ankle and dragging her backwards, bringing her crashing down into a row of Shrinking Violets, that scurried out of her way as she fell into the flowerbeds. She rolled over, spraying dirt everywhere and he lunged for her. She aimed a kick at his head – it missed, but hit his already stinging shoulder – and he sprung forwards, pinning her down by her wrists and pressing her shoulders deep into the dirt.
"Bloody hell, Granger," he said, gasping for breath, as pain began to pulse in his stomach, "where'd you learn a move like that?"
She was glaring up at him, dirt streaked all across her face and clothes, her cheeks pink and her eyes bright. Her face was inches from his; she was so close to him that he could see every freckle on her cheeks and every faint line underneath her tired eyes. She was panting too, and as he stared into her gleaming brown eyes he was becoming increasingly aware of her heaving chest.
He could feel the blush crawling into his face.
"Never you mind!" she spat, "let me go!"
"Not until you say you'll tutor me!"
Her lips pressed into a thin, furious line. "If you don't let me go this minute, Draco Malfoy, I will headbutt you."
"You wouldn't."
"Don't think I won't do it!" she snapped, glaring at him, curling her hands into fists.
"Now, that's not very appropriate behaviour for the Head Girl, is it?"
"Ten points from Gryffindor," she muttered, blushing. She drew her head back and Draco released her at once, springing backwards.
"All right, all right! Calm down, Granger!"
She sat up, still glowering at him, and began brushing the dirt off her uniform.
"Give me back my wand, Malfoy."
"I don't have it. You'll have to look for it yourself. I'll help you, if you –"
"Oh, do shut up," she said, getting to her feet and peering into the nearest flowerbed. He glared at her for a moment, and then got to his feet and began to look for his own wand, resisting the urge to let out a long stream of curse words.
They did not speak to each other. They moved along the flowerbeds without saying a word, although Draco could feel Hermione's temper radiating towards him from somewhere over his shoulder. It was a force to be reckoned with, crackling out from the tips of her wild hair like electricity…
"Why do you want me to tutor you so badly, anyway?" she snapped.
He could hear her rummaging through the leaves, but he knew that she was listening closely.
He stared into the roots of an old, gnarled-looking Snargaluff stump with his arms folded.
"Because you're the best," he said, peering around the mess of thorny vines that wormed their way around the vicious plant, "and I have a lot to catch up on."
"I gathered that," she muttered, and he could feel her glare on the back of his neck, "but why don't you ask one of the professors? They give remedial classes. Why me?"
"Well…after Dumbledore…"
His voice trailed away.
He did not want to ask the professors for help. They were teaching him, and they were marking his work fairly, but he knew that they hated him for his part in the Headmaster's death. He could feel it in every stony look and hear it in every curt voice.
No, the Hogwarts professors would not go out of their way to help him.
Hermione, however…
He sighed, and stared into a knotted whorl at the centre of the Snargaluff stump. He was going to have to tell the truth.
"I've done a lot of bad things," he muttered, still staring at the dead-looking plant, "and I don't have a lot of people left to turn to. You're probably the only one that would help me, after all the things I've done."
"And what makes you think that?"
He smiled, even though he knew she couldn't see it.
"You didn't have to help Potter prepare for the Triwizard tournament. You didn't have to free the house elves. You didn't have to help fight You-Know-Who. You didn't have to do any of those things, and you don't have to spend every free period helping Professor Sprout build up the greenhouses. But that's what you do, you help people."
Behind him, the leaves stopped rustling.
"And you need help, do you?" she asked, in a very different tone of voice.
He cleared his throat. "Things have been…difficult. I've got a lot to deal with, and two years' worth of work to cover."
He couldn't tell her all of it. Not Granger.
She sighed and gave the plants one last rustle. Seconds later, he felt a tap on his shoulder.
Hermione was standing feet from him, a very guarded expression on her face. She was holding out his wand.
He took it. "Thank you."
She sighed. "Meet me in the library at eight. Bring your sixth-year potions book, we'll start there."