Tutoring A Dragon

Fighting, Partying, and Letters

"Now, let's get the ball rolling, shall we?" said Hermione, looking a bit green under her makeup.

"I don't see what we have to talk about H- Granger," said Harry. "You, a Gryffindor, have been found making out with Malfoy, a Slytherin. I see nothing to talk about but your impending House disownment."

"Harry!" Ginny said angrily. "As much as I like you, Hermione's my best friend and has stuck through a lot of different things when you and Ron were ignoring me." She stood up. "If you really feel that way, I'm sorry, but I can't be with you." Ginny walked over to Hermione's couch, looking like she had just killed Voldemort herself.

"Thanks, Gin," whispered Hermione. "I know how much he means to you."

"It's what best friends do, Hermione," said Ginny, loudly. "Stick together, and understand each other's choices."

Ron blushed at her remark. "But," he pleaded, "Hermione, it's Malfoy! The same person who made our lives hell the last six years! Who called you a 'Mudblood' for five of those six years! Why him? Why not some one from Gryffindor or Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw? Why him?" He said that last bit a twinge frantically.

"You don't choose who you fall in love with, Ron," reminded Padma. "I never would have chosen you." Seeing his shocked expression, she shrugged. "I probably would have chosen Justin Finch-Fetchley, he's a Hufflepuff, and nice, even temper, communicates his emotions with words, not actions. By my standards he was perfect. But then I moved in with you, and I just fell; Head over heels, truly, madly, deeply. Like the movie." She grabbed Ron's hands. "Even though you weren't my first choice, you were always on the list. I adore red-heads."

"If it helps, Ron," offered Hermione. "I didn't even like Draco when we moved in together. We made a pact, though. We decided to try being nice to each other and it worked. Very well, I might add," she said, as Draco nuzzled her neck. She turned towards Harry. "I'm sorry if I hurt you, Harry. I knew you liked me, and I wasn't sure how to tell you guys about Draco without hurting your feelings. I'm sorry you found out the way you did."

"Wait," said Harry, doing a double take. "Who told you? I don't think Ron did, and I know I didn't."

Hermione flushed. "Ron told Padma, who told Parvati, who told Lavender, who told Colin Creevey, who told Ginny, who told me." She turned even redder. "Ginny was really upset about it. She cried for about a hour."

"I remember that," said Draco, speaking for the first time, "she came in at around ten and was crying her eyes out. She looked like an over ripe strawberry, she did. Stayed here all night, and came down to breakfast still red. It was, what, two weeks ago?"

"I did look like a strawberry, didn't I?" said Ginny, laughing. "You should've taken a picture, then I could show Mum at Christmas."

The Slytherin couch was helpless with laughter for a few moments.

"Ah-hem!" coughed Ron. "If you would please come back to the discussion; Ron, Hermione, Draco, Ginny, and Padma are okay with one another. Harry has yet to be solved."

"I hardly think that I'm something that can be 'solved', Ron," stated Harry, dryly. He turned to Hermione. "I'm sorry I was a complete wanker, Hermione. And such a prat, too..."

"Add git, and you've the whole collection," threw in Ginny. Harry frowned at her.

"But, I just had built up the whole white-picket image of you and me together. And to see you with Malfoy, that just..." he struggled with the words, "...hurt, so much. It felt like someone ripped out my heart, stuck it in a blender, and turned it on high."

"What's a blender?" asked Ron, Ginny, and Draco. They looked at each other, aghast that they had said something together like that.

Padma explained to Ron, Harry explained to Ginny, who had come to site beside him again, and Hermione explained to Draco, who was flicking his eyes up towards her rooms and then back at her. She stuck her tongue out at him, he moved so that nobody could see what he was doing, but Hermione yelled, "Draco! Stop that! It tickles!"

They heard: "All the better for us, m'dear. Especially for me, what kind of toothpaste do you use? No, don't tell me; I can figure it out." There was a pause. "Mmm... something cinnamon flavored, by my guess. What is it, or shall I have to 'torture' you more?" His voice lowered to a growl. "Please pick torture."

"First of all Draco, dearest, there are other people here. Namely, two very upset tall, muscular guys. Secondly, it's Crest Whitening Expression, Cinnamon." She jumped up, and looked around at her friends, before looking back at Draco. "Isn't tonight the Senior Prefect party? And weren't we supposed to host it?"

Draco's gorgeous gray eyes widened in shock, horror, and fear of impending death. "Oh, God," he said, burying his face in his hands. "We're dead. Dead, dead, dead! Anthony is never going to forgive us. Neither is Hannah. We're six feet under babe. Let's take care of that problem before they get here, shall we?"

Hermione gave him a no-nonsense look. "No. And we aren't dead, Draco. Ever heard of 'magic' before? I'll just decorate using my wand." She pulled her wand out of her sleeve. "Orenare hic Spatium Ruber et Aurum, Viridis et Argenteus, Caeruleus et Argenteus, et Gilvus et Nigrum!" And she flicked her wand at every corner of the room. Gorgeous red and gold, green and silver, blue and silver, and yellow and black decorations appeared around the giant common room. She dusted her hands off. "Now, isn't that special?" she said before she doubled over, laughing.

~*~

Fifteen minutes later, the rest of the Senior Prefects came knocking at the portrait hole, expecting a mess, instead of the hoppin' party scene that awaited them. All of them had seen the six leave the Great Hall, looking irritated and frustrated. They expected complete chaos, including broken crockery and wounded personnel. But all they found was a cool party, two couples snogging on opposite sides of the room, and door people Harry and Ginny.

"Your cloak, Madam," said Harry, with a straight face, to Hannah Abbott.

Hannah looked around, amazed at what she saw. "Damn," she muttered. It wasn't supposed to be like this! It was supposed to be a wreck, so that Dumbledore would stop promoting inter-House relations for Gryffindor and Slytherin. She and Anthony had gotten tired of settling disputes between the feuding Houses, and wanted to have some free time to... themselves. So, they had pared up two mortal enemies, and what had happened? They were spotted snogging! All of their hard work was... gone. She turned when she heard, "Your cloak, please, Monsieur," and saw Anthony come in the door. He had a look that matched hers on his face. They exchanged glances. This was not good.

Meanwhile, Draco and Hermione were on a couch at the back in the far left of the portrait. "Mmm," said Hermione.

"Merrrr..." said Draco, into her. Then, the chamber muzak that they had bespelled to start when the Heads came in started. "Well, we'd better get up then," he said.

Draco and Hermione unhappily untangled themselves from one another. He offered her a hand up. She gave him a look that stated: 'I'm a big girl and I don't need your help.' And, when she tried to get up, she fell back onto the couch.

"Damn stiletto heels," she muttered. "Why couldn't Ginny let me wear anything else?"

"I'm thinking," said Draco, giving her his arm, "that is was because you would be attending the Senior Prefect Black Tie Social Event of the Hogwarts Social Season."

"And I'm sure that that was capitalized," she muttered.

As they walked over to the amazed, perplexed, and slightly angry Heads, they plastered fake smiles on.

"So, Malfoy," said Anthony, regaining his head. "How'd you do it? The decorations, I mean."

Draco winced at the usage of his surname. "Well, with a bit of preparation, decoration, and a lot of Hermione's brains, Goldstein. It was her idea about the decorations a half week ago, when we agreed to plan and host it, wasn't it, 'Mione?" lied Draco smoothly.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him, and then turned to Anthony. "Yes, it was, Draco dear. Oh, look Padma and Ron are here!" she said, quickly diverting the conversation.

Padma was wearing a slinky black gown, and was holding hands with a black clad Ron, whose face was that of someone who refused to wear the piece of clothing that he had on.

As Padma slinked over to Hermione, she threw Hannah a 'What are you doing here?' look, and said, "Oh, hello, Hannah." She then hopped over to Hermione and hugged her, and kissed both her cheeks. "Oh, Hermione dear, I do hope I'm invited to the after!" she practically squealed. And she winked at Hermione.

Hannah stared at this scene. Padma, who was one half of two of the most gorgeous (and, subsequently popular) girls in school, had just said hello. To her. Padma had never said anything but "Excuse me, little girl, you're in my way," to her. And now, she was talking to one of Hogwart's most acclaimed bookworms, about 'afters', whatever those were!

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course, Padma dear, you're coming to the after! Would I plan something as brill as this and not invite the absolute marvelous Padma Patil, my lovely girlfriend to the after? Of course not!" she said to Padma, winking back.

Harry and Ginny, who were in the corner near the portrait, laughed at this as they took a literal breather from snogging.

"Ron! So, you're lady convinced you to come, eh? I always knew you would get tied down sometime!" said Draco, shuddering on the inside at the words coming out of his mouth.

"Yeah, and in this getup, too," replied Ron, knowing the game for once. "I told her, I told her no, but," here he shrugged, "you can't upset the ladies, now can you Draco? But, I guess you know all about that, eh?"

Draco was wearing dark, dark green robes, with his hair tied back in a dragonskin thong. Hermione was wearing the green robes that he had bought her way back in the beginning of September.

Draco grinned, and felt around for Hermione's hand. "Yeah, don't I know it, with one as great as this," he said.

"Your cloaks, Madam and Monsieur," they heard Harry say. They turned to see Ernie MacMillian and Pansy Parkinson come into the room, both looking slightly flushed and holding hands.

"Wow, Draco," said Pansy. "Top notch, top notch. Too bad Lucius isn't here to see his little boy all grown up. Or Orion." She wasn't saying this to be nasty, just to state the facts.

"Well, they can both burn in hell for all I care," said Draco. Turning to Ernie, he gave another fake smile. "So, how'd you and Pansy get together? With me and Hermione it was an overdose of coffee and stress, on my part. Let's hear your story."

Ernie shifted. "Well, Pansy and I were planning the menu, and it...just happened."

"'It'?" said Draco, amused.

Ernie turned red. "We kissed each other. We didn't sleep together, if that's what you want to know!"

Draco nodded, accepting Ernie's answer as his girlfriend smacked his shoulder. "Draco!" said Hermione. "Do we have to have another little talk?"

His eyes went wide in mock horror. "No! Please, no! Anything but that!" he stage whispered.

Hermione nodded approvingly. "Good then. That solves that problem. Now, you behave or no more snogging till Christmas!" At those words, Draco fainted dead away. He wasn't pretending. This was really. "Oh, for Heaven's sake!" exclaimed an exasperated Hermione. "Ennervate!" she hissed at him, wand pointed to his chest.

He stood up, and pointed a finger at her. "Don't you even joke about that, Hermione Granger. Snogging is serious business." He was so serious, Hermione burst into giggles.

He looked at her in surprise, but she waved him off. "I'm...sorry...." she said, laughing "But, your face was so...funny!" And she burst out laughing again.

~*~

Three hours later, Anthony, Hannah, Ernie, and Pansy finally left.

Hermione leaned against the closed portrait. "Phew. Glad that's over."

To their surprise, an owl swooped into the room, and dropped a letter into Draco's hands, before flying out again.

He opened the letter, and read what it contained:

Dear Draco, it read.

I'm sorry for shocking you yesterday. Your mother shocked me when she first owled me with the News, and to be quite frank I wasn't exactly delighted that I had a seventeen-year-old son. I'm sorry if I put off the image that I don't care about you, because I do. But, for now it's only as an uncle.

Draco looked up and snorted at this.

I do want to be a father to you, Draco, but I'm afraid that I'm too immature for that right now. If only I had known all those years ago... But, one shouldn't count the 'If onlys' in one's life. Even if I can't be your father yet, Draco, I would like to owl you every once in a while. So, if you don't mind, I'll owl you once a week just to talk. Maybe you would like to owl back? You don't have to, but it would be nice to hear from you. And please tell your girlfriend that if she's going to be sick, tie her hair back before she throws up.

Yours,

Orion Malfoy.

P.S. What are you doing dating a Gryffindor, anyway?

"My father," said Draco, looking up, "is a complete wanker." He then threw the letter into the fire and went over to a desk. He wrote a return letter to his father and it went like this:

Dear Orion, he wrote.

No, please do not owl me, as you disgust me. I can tell that you are immature, since you continue to only worry about you and not your son or his mother who could be in danger. What I'm doing with a Gryffindor is absolutely none of your business unless you are my father, which you aren't. If I had my way, I wouldn't have a father, since they are a great bit of trouble. And, just so you know, you make me sick too.

Please don't respond,

Draco Malfoy

He then stormed off to the Owlry and sent it. When he came back, Hermione was pacing around the common room, a look of worry across her face.

She looked up as he spoke. "It's all right, 'Mione. It's all right." She ran over to him, burying her face in his shirt.

"What does he want?" she asked, her voice muffled. "Why doesn't he realize that you're done with him?"

"He wants to be my uncle still. I...I do not want his help; nor his false sympathy or humility. I know my uncle well enough to know that he doesn't care for anyone but his dragons and himself." Draco kissed Hermione's head. "I don't need anyone but you and mother any more. We six," he said, motioning to Harry, Ginny, Ron, Padma, Hermione, and himself, "are a family. And nothing is going to tear us apart." He looked at Hermione. "I just wish I knew what Lucius was doing."