Disclaimer: I DO NOT own the Harry Potter Series. That right belongs solely to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I DO, however, own the plot, Oura (not her last name, again the literary goddess Rowling) and my favorite cat, Sterling.

xXx Hello my little Owlettes! Still trying to be regular with my updates again, though that's not really working out well. This chapter was easier to write, it just came to me the other day. As I no longer have a Beta, let me know if you spot any errors in this chapter, and I'll try to fix them asap. As usual favorite, follow and review. It means a lot to me! Anywho, that's about it... so Enjoy! xXx

Chapter 17

Saying that Oura had been busy was an understatement. She had taken three more students under her wing since she started tutoring Seamus Finnegan. The irish boy had actually received a E on one of the pop quizzes that Professor McGonagall had become so fond of, after overhearing a first year exclaiming how he was glad that Hogwarts didn't give them. No better way to improve education, she often said. The first year had become very unpopular very fast. After that, students flocked towards Oura. If Finnegan had gotten an E, she had to be good. The redhead had only been able to agree to tutor three others regularly before she would have been overwhelmed.

Oura was barely able to see Terry, either. The mid year exams were eating up all their potential time together. She would only see him regularly in classrooms, where they were both scribbling furiously, oblivious to everyone, other than the Professors. They managed to go out on some Saturdays, but Terry had his own students to tutor and both were usually busy. The few dates they were actually able to go on were as beautiful as the first. There was a Hogsmeade trip that they took together and they ended up in a booth at the Three Broomsticks debating on the topic of the Goblin Wars. Oura was firmly set with the belief that the Goblins had every right to fight for their rights, while Terry believed they should have gone about the business more peacefully. Other times, they walked around the grounds, simply enjoying each others company. The only relaxing part of her day was when she was able to sit on the couches in front of the Common Room fireplace with him.

Oura had been so busy, in fact, she had almost forgotten about the full moon and the way Malfoy had acted. Almost. He was the only distraction from her otherwise perfect attention on all her lessons. The width of his shoulders, the slope of his neck, the way he bounced his foot impossibly fast when he was stuck on a question. All were factors that pulled her attention away from the lectures and notes that required her concentration. At one point, she even looked down at her notes only to see that she had written Malfoy Malfoy Draco Malfoy Malfoy Malfoy Malfoy Malfoy Malfoy Malfoy Malfoy Draco Malfoy Malfoy Malfoy Malfoy Malfoy Draco Malfoy Malfoy Malfoy Malfoy Malfoy all over at least half of her paper. If Luna had noticed, she didn't say anything. Still, Oura doubted the blonde did. The girl's head was always in the clouds thinking of Nargles and Wrackspurts and what have you. It was astounding that she got so many O's on all her exams. One would think that the girl paid no attention whatsoever and Oura never saw her doing homework, but it was always handed in complete and on time. It never ceased to astound the French girl. Yes, she may be avoiding the topic at hand, but the redhead didn't know why she was so drawn to the blonde who angered her one minute, and cared for her in a time a weakness the next. She didn't even know what to make of him. Was he bipolar or something? How could someone be so horrid, and yet so kind? Why was she even still thinking about him? She really didn't know. Malfoy had probably already forgotten all about her.

Therefore, it was a bit of a surprise when she slipped into the Room she had created the morning after the full moon, to see him draped over one of the couches that still surrounded the warm, crackling hearth reading a book from the packed bookshelves that graced the side of the Room. He raised his blonde head as the door closed behind her, and she stood, rooted to the spot, watching his languid form. Only when he lifted an eyebrow did she snap out of her daze.

"I'm sorry... I... um... I didn't know you were in here. I can go, if you..." She half turned to go as she trailed off.

"It's fine, there's plenty of room in here." He stopped her. "Just make sure you keep quiet." He added, seeming to decide that his reply wasn't sharp enough.

Oura stared at him a few moments longer before nodding, more to herself than him, seeing as he had gone back to reading. She quietly made her way to the long wooden counter, pulled out her books and began to work on her homework, her mind whirling, not even trying to focus on the parchment in front of her. Why was he here? Why did the Room look exactly the same? The bed was still even there, neatly made. Did he like the Room like this? Oura had thought if he did come back to the Room, that he would have personalized it, at least adding more silver and taking out the blue, but the Room had not changed whatsoever. She shook her head to rid herself of the thoughts, hunkered down and got to work. She flew through her Charms Essay, and her paper on the Giant Wars for History of Magic. She read the chapter on the Draught of Peace, all of which she already knew. It wasn't until her Transfiguration homework that she got stuck. She was supposed to write a rather long essay on the Inanimatus Conjurus Spell. She was having trouble even performing the spell, let alone explaining it.

After trying it a couple times in a hushed voice, Oura groaned in defeat. She cast a quick Tempus Charm to see that it was nearing curfew. Placing her wand on the counter, she rubbed her eyes tiredly. How was she supposed to finish the essay in twenty minutes? She had the entire theory down, a couple feet of it, but McGonagall had told them specifically that they had to include at least 5 objects that they were able to conjure, and how they were able to do so.

"Curfew soon."

Oura jumped, hand flying to her wand out of instinct. She turned slowly to see Malfoy smirking at her surprise. She glared at him angrily.

"Merlin, Malfoy, you're lucky I didn't have my wand in my hands. I nearly hexed you into oblivion."

He snorted, "Like you could."

"Try me." She spat back. He smirked and glanced at her essay.

"Why are you doing this just now? It's due tomorrow. I was under the impression that Ravenclaws were goody-two-shoes that did everything the minute they get it." He sneered at her.

She glared back. "I'm having... trouble with the spell."

"You can't do it, can you?" She huffed, crossing her arms.

"Maybe." She ground out.

Malfoy laughed softly. Actually laughed. It was quiet and reserved, almost as though he was worried someone might hear, but it seemed genuine all the same. Oura found herself wishing he would do it more often, despite the fact that she was the one being laughed at.

"Imagine, the great Marvolo, Smartest Witch of Our Generation, unable to do a simple conjuring spell." She glared at him again.

"I can conjure just fine in French. It's the English spell that's confusing me."

"Let me see."

Oura blinked at him, confused. "What?"

"Let me see. Maybe I can help. I mean, if you think you can do it on your own, I'll leave-"

"No," She interrupted quickly, and rather loudly. She coughed. "No, I mean, if you want to help..."

He watched her expectantly and she swallowed, focusing on the spell.

"Inanimatus Conjurus"

Her wand sparked a bit, but nothing else happened. Oura sighed in defeat again, shaking her head.

"I'm not sure what I'm doing wrong. Faire Apparaître Inanimé." A large goblet dropped onto the counter in front of them. "That I can do no problem. I can conjure practically anything in French, so it can't just be me."

"Here, I think I know what you're doing wrong." The redhead started to turn and look at him, but froze as she suddenly felt his body flush against her's. Malfoy wrapped his right hand around her own and his left gently rested on her left shoulder for balance. She could feel his breath on her ear. She swallowed.

"Now, relax a little. You'll never be able to perform a spell that tense." His words were soft and danced on her ear, doing nothing to help her nerves. She forced herself to follow his instructions. "Good. Now, focus on the thing you want to conjure. Just the object, nothing else."

Like that was possible right now. "Focused? Now, you were moving your wand counterclockwise and then flicking it. Try tapping it instead, like this." He moved their hands together, going through the motions.

"Now try the incantation." He breathed so softly into her ear, she almost didn't hear him. She muttered the spell quietly, not really expecting it to work. Despite her distracted state, a small teacup clinked down next to the large goblet. Oura's eyes widened at the sight of it.

"I did it! I can't believe it." The blonde chuckled softly and slowly peeled himself from the excited turned quickly to thank him, before realizing how close they actually were. Draco made no move to step back and Oura could practically feel his breath on her skin.

"Um... I- Thank you." She stuttered in a hushed tone, a small blush creeping up her face.

"No problem." He replied in the same tone. The blonde leaned forward a bit, placing his hands on either side the counter, trapping her, and tilted his head so his forehead almost touched hers. Oura's pulse quickened and her breathing became shallow. Draco's eyes darkened and he started to lean closer, breath beginning to intermingle, when the curfew bell rung out, snapping both out of the trace-like state that had been created. Draco stood straight again and turned away. Oura slipped out from behind him and began to collect her books. She would add more to her essay in the Common Room. The redhead glanced over her shoulder at the confusing blonde.

"Thanks, again, for helping me with the spell." He simply nodded, not turning to look at her. Oura shook her head silently and quickly shuffled out the great wooden doors. Her mind whirling once more. What in the name of Merlin's beard was that?