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Teach Me	By : pipdfunnybunny Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 12132 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. are not
mine�they are exclusive property of the gifted J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this.

Summary: Harry Potter is a poor
young man at wits� end. Draco Malfoy is a spoiled, violent noble who needs a
tutor. A fit of magical temper brings Harry into Draco�s world, and the young
wizard is reluctant to let this apparently ordinary boy go. Is it really up to
Draco, though?

Warnings: Foul language, graphic
male/male sex, and violence. Also, possibly non-consent. We�ll see.

In this
chapter: Lucius
finds something interesting in Harry and decides to make use of it...but that
doesn�t sit well with both Harry and Draco. Or does it? Meanwhile, not so far
away a wretched servant scurries to his master...

Reviews are badly needed�but flames will be used to
roast the people who sent them. Heehee. (^^,)

Chapter 2

Ludicrous!

Lying
in the midst of a large four-poster, almost dwarfed by the rich covers and
heavy sheets, a young man lay sweating through a high fever. The mud on his
clothes proved no threat to the sheets after a group of tittering young maids
had removed them and cleaned his body with bright blushes staining their
cheeks. His hair, however, damp with sweat and mud, ruined the soft downy
pillows.

By
his bed, a tall nobleman with silvery-blonde hair and cool, piercing eyes
reached out to lay a hand over the young man�s sweating forehead. Closing his
own eyes, the nobleman reached gently into the young guest�s mind and sought
what he found important.

All
this was lost to the young man. To him, the memories that flashed through his
mind from childhood to the very recent past were but parts of a dream instead
of the occasion of someone rifling through his head...

Draco
shot the giggling group of maids a look that would have pulverized rock. It managed
to make them turn to stone, their fresh young faces stricken with fear and
anxiety as he stalked towards them, his steely eyes riveted on the color in
their cheeks.

�What�s
going on in there?� he demanded, his eyes on the entrance to the room that was
barred by more than just several inches of good solid oak. �Why won�t my father
let me come in?�

�H-He�s
e-e-e-x-x-x-am-m-m-mining the new p-patient, my lord,� the maid that her
companions were using as a human shield stammered, her dark eyes huge with
fear.

Finely
arched blond brows snapped together. �Examining how?�

The
maid backed away only to be held forward by her companions...though they, too,
were backing away.

�J-Just
holding his forehead, my lord...�

For
some reason, clarifying that issue made Draco�s mood lift slightly, and he
nodded curtly at the maids in dismissal. He didn�t even bother to reprimand
them for the undignified manner that they employed by scampering away; his mind
was taking in the strength of the magical barrier that pulsed through the sturdy
door.

Clearly,
his father didn�t want company.

Except
that of the stranger�s.

Draco
swallowed the irrational rage that was exploding in his mind, remembering how
besotted his father was with his mother. It was highly unlikely that he was
doing anything...questionable to the stranger, and so Draco tried to make the
privacy his father was insisting upon unimportant to him.

But I
brought him here, didn�t I? So what if it was to hand him over to Father? I
shouldn�t be excluded from their discussion...I mean, how else does Father
expect know the extent of that stupid person�s crimes?

Insisting
to himself that his restlessness had to do with that alone, he paced in front
of the guest room�s door, resisting the urge to pit his own power against that securing
the room. Doing so had no real purpose, and his pride made him patient as he
waited for his father to emerge.

When
he did several minutes later, Draco was hard-pressed not to stare hard at him.
As usual, Lucius� face was devoid of any expression save a small, polite upward
tilt of his slim lips.

�So,
Father,� Draco asked carelessly, as though he were discussing the weather or some
other bland subject, �how is that trespasser?�

�Not
well enough to suffer your company yet, my son,� Lucius answered with equal blitheness,
motioning for Draco to follow as he glided down the hall, not lifting the
barrier he had set up at Harry�s door. �He�ll be well enough by tomorrow, I expect,
and then he will have to take accountability for trespassing.�

�But
he�s already so poor�� Draco pointed out, cutting himself off when he realized
just how much heat was in his tone. �I mean, he can�t possibly pay the fine
even if we made him.�

�I
am aware of that, Draco. Fortunately, there are alternate methods for him to make
up for his transgression. In fact, I�ve already come to the conclusion that the
young man can be of great use to all of us. To you, in particular.�

A
footman held the door open to Lucius� study and Draco followed him in, his
brows contracting at his father�s statement. The door shut and twin fires
sprang up on the hearths at both ends of the spacious room.

�What,
are you going to make him my manservant?� Draco inquired, half-incredulously
and half-hopefully. Well, hopeful only because he would have the opportunity to
make the insolent trespasser suffer.

�You�d
like that, wouldn�t you?� Lucius shook his head, smiling at his son with more
fondness than Draco realized. Walking over to the drinking cabinet, he picked
up two glasses, pouring some Madeira into one and�after a moment�s
consideration�milk into the other. Sending the milk bobbing gently towards
Draco with a whispered spell, Lucius walked over to his chair, wanting to be
seated when the explosion came.

�Well,
what do you mean then?� Draco demanded, pushing him towards the inevitable
moment and ignoring the milk that bobbed invitingly near his head.

Lifting
his glass to his lips, Lucius took a long drink before replying.

�He�s
going to be your new tutor.�

Outside
a group of nosy maids jumped as they heard glass shatter from within the room.

A
nervous-looking, ratty man scuttled through the rowdy streets of the battered
port-town. Several important trade ships had docked the night before, and thus
sailors and traders alike who had been too long abroad were busy celebrating
their return to home. The heavy, salty sea air was permeated by various smells
that spoke much of the revelry of the evening: a cornucopia of liquors, powder
from the fireworks some Orientals had come to sell, various kinds of food, and
sweat from the multitude of bodies engaged in acts uninhibited, violent, and
sexual.

One
smell that many missed, perhaps due the hundreds of others out there, was the rank
smell of dread that sprang forth from a brooding, vicious anger.

Ignoring
the sailor that tripped over him, the man hurried forward even more urgently.
The air felt like an invisible shroud, pressing down on him and choking him
with every moment he lost to distance.

Night
had fallen quickly�much too quickly. Even as he hurried towards his master in
order not to anger him by being tardy, it was difficult for his legs not to
cart him in the opposite direction.

He
had, after all, no promising news to deliver.

�Father,
you can�t be serious,� Draco whispered,
staring at the implacable man who was seated across from him. He paid no heed
to the fragments of glass and the milk that was running down the wall.

�I
assure you that I am, my dear son,� Lucius replied, forgiving his son for the shock�literal
and emotional�of unrestrained magic that had broken the poor milk glass. Repressing
the smile that would show just how much affection was in that statement. Draco
would not take him seriously if he didn�t speak seriously. It was a great
regret for Lucius that his demeanor had instilled the wrong kind of mentality
in his son. To be tender was to be like a woman�like his mother; to be strong
like his father he had to be hard, had to be fierce, and had to command
authority. Now Draco was near to be being grown and Lucius had no idea as to
how to reverse such a mindset.

�But
he�s�he�s so...thin!� Draco flailed
desperately. �The best tutors are like Mr. Slughorn! Fat and��

�Overpaid,�
Lucius cut in smoothly. �Harry Potter�for that is his name�is thin because he
is rapidly growing in height, as young men like the two of you are wont to do,
and also because he was never really given much to eat by those who raised him.
Thankfully, starvation and hard labor have not impaired his mind, and as
limited the knowledge that the books at his uncle�s bookshop had to offer, he
has learned them all by heart. I am quite convinced by the brief look into his
mind that he will be an excellent tutor and
study partner for you.�

It
was the truth, by Lucius� standards. Draco did not take well to being told what
to do or being told what was right or wrong. It was the root of his constant
problems with tutors. Harry Potter was not as pompous or high-handed as the
others had been. He had a delight for knowledge that Lucius had sensed from the
minute he had set foot in the young man�s mind, and an appreciation for
discussion and debate that brooked well for both Draco and the young man
himself. He would never answer Draco�s �But why?�s
with �Just because...� and he would
consider the learning process a two-way procedure: Draco would learn from
Harry, and Harry would learn from Draco. It would be soothing to Draco�s ego,
and because Harry was only older than him by two years, Lucius was very sure
that soon Draco would want to outdo the older boy. Draco�s aggressive, violent
nature was something that would take time to work on�why not channel it towards
intellectual and academic competition, in the meantime?

�This
is ludicrous!� Draco shouted, his
ivory complexion reddening steadily with exertion. �He�s nothing but an insolent, ragged peasant, and you want him to
teach me?!�

�Yes,�
Lucius assured him crushingly. �And he will. For all your assertions, that
insolent, ragged peasant has a great deal of promise...as much promise as you.
It will be interesting to see who fulfills that promise more.�

His
son apparently understood that remark, for his mouth clamped shut and his eyes
narrowed, glittering with resentment.

�Have
it your way,� his son acceded brusquely, spinning on his heel. �I can�t promise
you he�ll stay much longer than any of the other tutors.�

�I
know. I can, however.�

That
gave Draco pause, and he turned to regard his father with a mixture of
curiosity and dread. �What do you mean?�

�I
mean that while you and Harry are both under my roof, Draco, I will be
restraining your magic.�

Draco
blinked at him, slowly revolving on the spot so he was facing his father again.

�What?�

Lucius
didn�t bat an eyelash, repeating himself calmly and proceeding to efficiently
lash at his son�s pride. �I will be restraining your magic. I have allowed you
free rein in the past, hoping that constant use will have made you an adept at
controlling it. Instead it has made you lax and undisciplined...as you proved
to all of us this afternoon with your previous tutor and with the thunderstorm
you called up after grievously injuring him. As punishment for your
irresponsibility and as an assurance that you will not do anything rash to
Harry, I will be on hand to restrain you should you attempt anything.� Leveling
his son with a steady stare, he added, �And trust me, Draco, it won�t be
pleasant.�

�I�m
not afraid of you, Father,� Draco said, hurt and livid at his father�s words.
�Let�s see if it will be pleasant for you.�

The
instant he felt deep inside of him for that vibrant thread of inexplicable
power that simply made things happen for him, he felt a suffocating weight
lodge itself upon his being. It was as though it were on his shoulders, on his
head, in his limbs, in his chest, around his throat...

Belatedly
Draco realized that it was power, and through bleary eyes he saw his father
lower his hand, quickly relieving him of the unbearable weight.

�When
you learn control, Draco,� Lucius said conversationally, as if nothing had
passed in the past few seconds, �you will be able to overcome me. Until then, I
suggest you learn your physical limitations, if not your magical ones.�

Without
another word, Draco stormed out of the room, furious and humIliated. Lucius
allowed him that one burst of angry power that caused the heavy oak door to
slam shut behind him before he leaned back into his chair, steepling his
fingers over his lips as he turned his eyes to the fire, hoping that things
turned out as he believed they would.

�It�s
never pleasant for me, Draco,� Lucius admitted to the quiet of the empty room.

Harry
stared absently up at the intricate patterns of the silk brocade that made up
the hangings for his bed. It had been quite diverting for him to look around
the elegant finery surrounding him, and after several hours of taking in the finely
carved furniture, the elaborate paneling, wallpaper, and painting, the frescoed
ceiling, the view of the outside that he managed from his bed, the freckles on
the serving girl�s nose as she brought him his dinner, he finally settled on admiring
fabric.

Was
the room truly so fascinating, or was he simply that bored?

Sighing
and placing a hand to his clammy forehead, he found his mind returning to the
situation that it was obviously trying to keep from understanding. When he had
woken up near nightfall to find himself in the lavish room, he had thought
himself dreaming.

And
then the headache had come along with the faint memories of reaching a
sprawling, lavish estate on the back of a collapsing horse with an irate,
beautiful blonde leading him.

His
first intelligent thought had been, �Hmmm.�

A
girl around his age had come in some minutes after that, during which Harry had
decided to stay put. Getting out of bed, finding his clothes, and quietly
sneaking out had its appeal, but it had occurred to his practical mind that he
would very likely get lost and run into more trouble. Also, the carpeted floor hadn�t
seemed to be cooperating with the way it wobbled dangerously beneath him with
each step.

The
girl had explained with a puzzling amount of giggling and tittering that he was
expected to be better by morning�with the help of the food and the medicine
that she was delivering to him then.

Harry
was halfway through the tomato chowder when he realized he had failed to give
her a reply.

And
so it was that he was lying in bed, listening to the storm that was yet again
raging outside. In many ways, it reflected his confusion, if not his feelings
about his current situation. Clearly, the blonde had taken him home to his
family�s manor�proving that he was, indeed, a person of stature and that Harry
was�much to his dismay�in some sort of trouble for trespassing.

But
if that was the case, why was he lying in the middle of what was obviously a
room reserved for respected guests? Even if the aristocrats here were kinder
than usual�and his memory of the blonde made him doubt that�he would have been
placed in the servants� quarters; wouldn�t have been served extremely good food
and given medicine by a pretty maid as though he were someone esteemed. Sure,
the accommodations were lovely, but they simply didn�t make sense.

All
the thinking was making his head hurt worse, and he sighed once more, closing
his eyes and flopping back against the lush pillows.

�I
trust you are feeling better.�

�Argh!�

The
surprised yelp tore from his throat before he could stop it, and the already
rumpled sheets were sent flying as his entire body jerked into alertness. His
back hit the elaborately carved headboard and his glasses were knocked askew so
that if there were some degree of danger, he would still be very nearly unable
to see and very surely dead.

Lucius
cringed inwardly as the boy yelped and made contact with the wood, a decidedly
unpleasant sound filling the air�both from the impact and from the boy�s mouth.
Again he went over what he had debated upon moments earlier: whether to
Apparate or simply go in through the door. As he was working to conceal his
magic, he had struck out the earlier option...though he was ruing it now. At
least Apparating made a sound that would have alerted the boy to his presence.
Approaching on foot�which Lucius managed soundlessly�had clearly startled the
boy more.

�My
apologies,� Lucius murmured quietly, waiting for the boy to compose himself and
standing perfectly still in an effort to calm him.

Harry
heaved a shaky breath, blinking owlishly and reaching a hand behind him to soothe
his sore back. His other hand went to his glasses in order to set them right and
it took a few more moments before his eyes focused on the tall, pale figure that
stood patiently by his bedside.

When
the young blonde had first dragged him in, he had been allowed only a vague
understanding of things and an even cloudier consciousness of other people save
the one whose strong, hot body was supporting him.

Staring
at the stately gentleman with eyes the color of moonlight, Harry was
immediately aware of a strange familiarity he found with him�and not just
because it was clear that this man was the lord of the land and the blonde�s
father; his platinum hair and his peculiar eyes gave him away. It was an almost
eerie feeling, in fact, for it was apparent from the way the lord observed him silently
that he shared that sense of familiarity. He certainly wasn�t looking at Harry
with any degree of dislike, distrust, or even curiosity�things one would
normally expect to see in the eyes of someone looking at a strange trespasser
imposing on his household.

�Your
lordship?� Harry inquired tentatively, realizing that he had no clue as to the
nobleman�s name or title.

�I
did knock, but you did not reply,� Lucius went on to say when the boy appeared
to have calmed down enough to be curious. Resisting the temptation to nudge at
the boy�s mind in order to get a better idea on how to approach him, he instead
moved closer to one of the bedside tables, going through the motions of
lighting a candelabra. �I had only planned to check in, but finding you awake I
decided to speak with you after all.� Blowing out the match he used and turning
the look at the boy in the stronger light, he gave him a small smile. �Welcome
to Malfoy Manor. I am Lucius Malfoy, Earl and master of this estate.�

Malfoy...

Harry
struggled to clarify whether or not it was the man�s name alone that was
familiar to him, but he returned the smile with only a little hesitation. Something
in his head was reassuring him that while this man was every bit as noble as
his son, he was decidedly more charitable. Also, it was not in Harry�s nature
to be churlish when he was being treated so well after he had committed an
offense.

�Thank
you for being so kind to me, my lord,� Harry said fervently, reining back
exactly how much gratitude, confusion, and tenuous hope was in that statement. �I
don�t exactly understand why you�ve been so generous, but I�m truly thankful.�

�Why
should I not be generous, young mister...?�

Harry�s
eyes widened and he flushed in embarrassment. For some stupid reason, he�d felt
that the nobleman had already known his name.

�P-Potter,
my lord. Harry Potter. I-I�m an assistant at a bookkeeper�s store. Please, my
lord, I didn�t mean to say that you are...erm...unkind. It�s just that I lost my horse and my things while riding
through your land�but I didn�t know it was your land, I swear��

Lucius
raised a hand for silence and the young man shut his mouth so quickly it
actually made a sound.

�I
assume then that my son has said something to you about trespassing.�

Harry
nodded jerkily.

�I
will not lie to you, Mr. Potter, it is an offense that I do not let slide.�

Harry�s
heart sank, but he held his tongue as it was clear that the earl was not yet
finished speaking.

�Given
your current state�and pray, do not take offense�am I also correct in assuming
that you will not be able to pay the corresponding fine?�

Harry
nodded, his heart beginning to hammer. This led to something, he was very
certain. Lord Malfoy would take one of two options: send him debtor�s prison or
write to his uncle to pay in Harry�s stead...which Harry was very certain that
Vernon Dursley would refuse to do. Leaving
him to a fate that was inevitable as it was unthinkable...

Lucius
took pity on the boy, deciding not to draw out his decision any further.

�Fortunately,
Mr. Potter, I am not so wanting in my coffers that I would demand you pay the
fine immediately. I am willing to give you time to pay off the sum�by
installment, if you wish. Would that suit you?�

Sharp
relief sliced through Harry�s chest and he nodded eagerly, trying to find his
power of speech.

�O-Of
course, my lord�thank you! Exactly how much is the sum?�

Lucius�
response had a visibly negative impact on the boy. His brilliant smile faded and
his shoulders slumped once more, a crease making its way between his dark
brows.

�Please
forgive me, my lord,� Harry whispered miserably, �but how much time do I have
to pay you back? I am but an assistant to my uncle the bookkeeper and he does
not pay me because I am indebted to him for raising me. I could take on
additional labor, but that also pays very little and it would take quite a while...�

�I
am not in a rush, Mr. Potter. I am more concerned about how this fine will
affect you. Paying two difficult debts at once is not a prospect I relish.
Perhaps you would consider an alternative?�

Harry
looked up dully, moved by this nobleman�s kindness but no less miserable.
�There is no alternative, my lord. Books are my only real strength and they are
of no use to me now.�

�So
you may think,� Lucius said mildly, his smile forcing its way to his lips
despite his restraint. �But as things stand, I may have a proposition for you. Tell
me, among the books you consider your strength, would you count in math?�

Harry�s
eyes were as wide as an owl�s, his heart racing unstoppably so that all he
could manage without collapsing was an awkward nod of his head.

�And
history?�

Another
nod, several more miles that his heart managed to cover.

�Geography,
literature, art, and the sciences?�

Harry
bit his lip, hoping he didn�t come off as boastful when he nodded once more.

�What
about languages?� Unable to resist teasing him, Lucius added, �And respond
verbally, please. Body language does not count.�

�O-Of
course, my lord,� Harry croaked, swallowing convulsively. �I sp-speak five.
G-G-German, French, Greek, It-t-talian, and English, n-naturally. I also know
Latin, but d-don�t usually have someone to converse with.�

�That
may change. Did you learn all of that from books alone?� Lucius asked, sounding
curious more than disbelieving.

�No,
my lord. My uncle often sends me on errands to acquire books, whether from the
trade ships or from some scholars themselves. The scholars weren�t always very
well-off, so I had access to them and they were very accommodating. I�d ask for
them to explain their books and they�d often oblige me, so I learned much from
them. I al-s-s-o learned from the merchants...and sailors...� Harry trailed off,
embarrassed and fearful that his last mention of mentors would not count in his
favor. Sailors, while having to learn different languages due to their
occupation, did not often have the most cultured speech.

As
Lucius had gone through his memories and had already made his decision much
earlier, he had virtually no reaction to Harry�s response.

�Were
you on your way from one of these errands when you crossed my land?�

Harry
nodded, his mind turning towards his poor horse and even less pleasantly, to his
uncle. Vernon Dursley would most likely be foaming at the mouth by tomorrow
evening...

�I
sympathize with your misfortune, but this may turn out to be fortuitous for
both of us.� Seeing he had Harry�s full attention with that remark, he pulled
up a chair from a nearby writing desk and sat down. �You met my son this
afternoon. What did you think of him?�

Caught
between lying for politeness� sake�as well as the scent of opportunity in the
air�and telling the truth because it was in his nature and the nagging feeling that Lord Malfoy would sense a lie, Harry
sat frozen in indecision.

�He�s...ah...very
spirited, my lord,� Harry mumbled evasively, shrinking against the pillows.

�You�re
very diplomatic. As I am sure you know, he is hot-tempered, brash, spoiled, and
cruel in ways that worry even me. I have been attempting to prepare him for
college starting a few months ago and he has sent every single one of England�s finest tutors I have managed
to hire running. The fifth left but this afternoon after another one of Draco�s
fits. My son is bent on resisting discipline and learning, and I am not certain
that continuing in the way he and I have will change his mind.�

Harry
listened to this with a great degree of raptness because he was certain all of
it had to do with his fate. He was not very surprised about Lord Malfoy�s
description of his son�it fit quite well with the image Harry had already
painted of the boy. What was surprising him and making a coil of sinking
realization and dread in his stomach was the fact that Lord Malfoy was actually
admitting his son�s failings to him�very
uncharacteristic of any father, nobleman or not. Pairing that with his earlier
inquiries as to Harry�s expertise...

�I
believe that installing you as a tutor and study partner for my son will be
more beneficial. If you are as able as you have admitted to me, I give you full
authority over my son�s studies. I know that you have not had the opportunity
to attend college and are thus not technically as qualified as my son�s earlier
tutors, but if you prove to be capable in teaching Draco then that will not
matter. I am certain that as things stand you know much more than he could
possibly learn within a year or two of tutelage.�

�Perhaps
because I am but a few years older than him,� Harry pointed out with alarm, his
heart still not stopping its frantic scampering although Lord Malfoy had all
but laid his cards flat on the table. �Please, my lord, I�m only eighteen! I
can�t possibly be good enough! Maybe if you made me work as a footman or�or a
stable hand��

�I
have an adequate number of capable people already filling those positions, Mr.
Potter,� Lucius interjected calmly. �But you are my only option with the course I am planning to take for my son�s sake.
Remember, not only are you to teach him, but you are to study alongside him.
This manor�s collection of books alone is, I believe, fifty times larger than
what you have handled over the years. I myself have not managed to read them
all.� Smiling at that admission, he continued. �The point is that you will also
be learning new things and when I have deemed that knowledge sufficient, I will
send you to college with Draco...provided you have managed to teach him all you
know, of course.�

Utter
silence reigned in the room.

Lucius
despised himself for being so manipulative. He had not been wrong in gathering
that the offer of a university education would be too much for the young man.
His foray into the young man�s mind had shown him much more than mere memories.
The passion for knowledge, the burning need to know more, to understand more
consumed Harry Potter like no other need the young man knew. If Lucius� mention
of the manor�s library didn�t convince him to agree, he was certain that his
additional bait would.

But
did he really have to be so guilty? He was offering the young man much more
than he could possibly have achieved on his own, and though it came at great
risk Harry Potter�s eyes shone bright and incredulous and ludicrously unwilling
to move past what Lucius had said.

�You�re
going to send me to school if I tutor your son?� Harry whispered, hardly daring
to believe it.

�Yes,�
Lucius answered steadily, hoping his tone managed to bring reality to the young
man. �Consider your wages as a tutor to be payment for the fine. If you like,
you may split your monthly wages and send half to your uncle in payment of your
debt to him. I am certain that the hundred pounds I will be paying you each
month will suffice?�

�A
hundred pounds!� Harry covered his mouth, his floored exclamation still ringing
throughout the room. �My lord, that�s an exorbitant amount after all you have
offered me already!�

�It�s
not even half what the previous tutors have charged,� Lucius dismissed. A touch
of ironic humor and sympathy showed in his eyes. �After what Draco will put you
through in the coming week alone you may ask for a raise. I will oblige within
reason.�

His
blinding joy at the miraculous turn of events dimmed abruptly and Harry
sobered, remembering the earl�s son. As wonderful as the benefits of his
position were, the reality of his responsibilities were as daunting.

�You
see what I mean,� Lucius observed dryly.

�Yes,
my lord,� Harry admitted. �But I will not ask for a raise unless I can help it.
I will do my very best not to disappoint you, and to help your son as well.�

�I
am sure you will. In fact, I am counting on it. I will instruct my secretary to
bring papers to you here tomorrow morning for you to sign, formalizing our
agreement. Perhaps you should write to your uncle as well, and inform him of
what has happened.�

�Of
course, my lord. Thank you.� Harry smiled at him, letting out his pent-up
emotions in one dazzling, luminous smile. �I can�t tell you how grateful I am.�

�You�re
welcome, Mr. Potter,� Lucius said quietly, smiling back at him. He stood in one
fluid motion, his expression difficult to read though his eyes seemed almost
tender. �Do well by my son, and you will have expressed your gratitude enough
to make me grateful in turn. Draco is the way he is for many reasons�the
largest of the blame falling on my door. I hope that you will be the chance I
have been waiting for to make amends.�

Harry
looked up at him, deeply honored by this nobleman�s apparent faith in him yet still
at a loss in terms of certain things. �I�m not sure what you mean, my lord.�

�Help
me change Draco for the better,� Lucius appealed with as much supplication as a
nobleman could afford. �I have made many mistakes in raising him and I am hoping
you will help me correct them for his sake...and mine. You are his peer more
than his elder, regardless of the fact that he is an aristocrat and you are
not. In fact, I ask you to disregard the argument of nobility because it is
irrelevant in this matter and Draco will only use it against you. Treat him as
your equal, if not your lesser, because in the academic field that is what he
is. Draco must learn that his nobility will not purchase him favor in
everything, and even in cases where it has the capacity he must defer from
abusing his rank.�

�And
you expect me to teach him all this, my lord?� Harry said with growing unease,
panic eating away at his insides once more. �How?�

�I
will leave you to whatever methods you consider necessary, Harry,� Lucius
replied, addressing him by his given name for the first time. �You have my full
support in your endeavors. I am certain that my trust is not misplaced, and
that you can only do good for Draco given that boy�s current state.�

Draco
stared at himself in the mirror, thoroughly displeased.

He
saw to the fact that the servants cleaned his quarters so that they were
immaculate at all times, so it was very unlikely that the mirror was in need of
shining and thus very likely that he did look as terrible as his reflection
displayed. There were dark circles under his eyes and they were also
red-rimmed�testimony to the fact that he hadn�t slept a wink the night before. His
skin was ashy and dry and his lips were chapped and near to bleeding from all
the biting he had subjected them to. Regardless of the pains he had taken to
make himself presentable and the finery of his garments, the polished,
pulled-together look he was hoping to have when he faced his father and that�peasant!�evaded
him.

The
peasant popped up in his mind�s eye once more and he squeezed his physical eyes
shut in frustration. He�d been thinking about the dirty commoner for the whole
night and he was past the point of being able to shrug it off. Perhaps because
he was obsessing about wanting to beat in those strange green orbs that peasant
possessed or biting those soft lips until they bled...

His
eyes snapped open at the strange feeling that coursed through him at the
thought.

�This
is bedlam!� he groused, shoving away from the mirror and stalking over to where
his breakfast was waiting for him. Picking up a filigree fork he stabbed a
sausage savagely, pretending that it was perhaps that peasant�s �vital� organ.
It was halfway to his mouth when the implications of eating a sausage he was
pretending was some peasant�s dismembered member hit him and he dropped the
fork, reddening.

Utter madness!

�Y-Young
master?�

Draco
masked his jerk of surprise by standing up fully, whirling towards the servant.

�What?� he hissed, staring down at the
cowering House Elf.

�M-Master
Lucius says to bring young master down to y-y-young master�s study. Master does
not want young master to be l-late for first day with new tutor.� Dobby
stumbled over his words, shrinking back as the fire in Draco�s eyes increased with
every syllable.

Draco
was halfway through mustering the force for a particularly painful curse when
he remembered his father�s warning about using magic. He was never in the mood
to be obedient to anyone, but he did
have a strong recollection of how his father�s magic had felt like coiled
around his own power, subduing it and harming Draco in more ways than one. It
had been an infuriating feeling for many reasons, and Draco was not looking
forward to a repeat. He would challenge his father at another time, when his
magic was stronger.

An
idea occurred to him just then, and he concluded that perhaps challenging his
father did not have to wait even if using his magic did.

Staring
at the Elf who was obviously waiting to be dismissed, Draco instead turned back
to his breakfast and picked up the ornate silver tray...

...and
hurled it against the wall.

The
piercing shriek the Elf gave out made Draco�s mood lift considerably. Straightening
his resplendent collar, if not his attitude or temper, he walked past the trembling
Elf.

�Oh,
and Dobby?� he added with relish before he left the room, �pick all of that up
and place it outside the room. After all, you ruined my breakfast by
interrupting it. And do it without any magic...or gloves.�

Harry
sighed, exasperated as he stared at himself in the mirror.

Luminous
green eyes brighter than even from a full night�s rest, good food, and a fair
dose of medicine peered through still-slightly-skewed spectacles, giving him an
air of rustic charm that in his opinion was fairly accurate. In fact, his
general appearance embodied that: a fresh face, glowing skin, a wiry build, and
clothes that were plain, from simple fabric, but painstakingly well-maintained.

The
moment he had finally digested the fact that he was not going to be working for Vernon anymore, he had been handed a
way to pay off two debts, he had to
opportunity to earn his bread and butter while doing something he loved, and
best of all, he had close to a promise of entering university, he had sat
bolt-upright in bed. As it happened, after Lord Malfoy had left he had fallen
asleep almost instantly, though his excited mind had hardly rested within that
period, conjuring up dream after dream of how things had taken an unexpected
turn for the better. It had made accepting the unbelievably beautiful reality possible
within moments of waking, and after his manic leap from the sheets he had set
about preparing himself for his new responsibilities.

The
process had calmed him considerably. He had stared at the golden bell pull near
the bed for several long minutes, deliberating the act of actually summoning a
fellow employee to serve him when he was capable of doing several things
himself. The hardships of the peasant class had not left him simply because
prospects of a new life had been ushered into his head, and so he had decided
against calling for a maid, opting to dress and find his own way about.

It
had been rather a conundrum, given that he had no clothes in sight and was
certainly in no way prepared to map his way through the vast manor. Thankfully,
the same freckled maid who had brought him dinner the night before had come in bearing
a small tray on one arm that sent mouth-watering aromas in his direction and a
stack of neatly folded clothes on another. She�d also offered to draw him a
bath, which he�d appreciated given that he still reeked of mud, sweat, and
illness. He hadn�t even minded that she giggled in between every two words.

The
door opened suddenly and Harry was pulled from his thoughts only to catch sight
of the very same maid he was thinking about. He didn�t have to look at her
reflection through the mirror to realize she was trying to suppress a giggle.

�Hello
Lavender,� he smiled, grateful that now she was at least trying to stop giggling.

�Hello
Harry,� the maid responded, shutting the door. �Aren�t you ready yet?�

�Just
about. Has the young master come down yet?�

Lavender
nodded, her eyes losing a bit of their flighty gleam at the mention of the Household
Terror. �We didn�t actually see him, but we did hear an awful crash coming from
his quarters. I went up to see what had happened and I found his breakfast
tray by the door, only the china was smashed up awful and the food was ruined.�

Harry
cringed in sympathy. Lavender was not the kind of person he imagined he would
have a deep connection with, but she was like him in that they were servants
and commoners who felt pain from the way people like Draco Malfoy behaved. He didn�t
want to ask how much the china was worth, but was certain that if it was being
used by the Malfoy heir then it was clearly no less than the finest. Its price
would have fed Lavender�s large family�of which she had spoken of at every
given opportunity in the short time since they�d met�for a year.

�He
picked up the food and ruined china and actually put it on the tray?� Harry
inquired, trying to shift their preoccupation away from the injustice of
nobility.

Lavender
shrugged, walking over to collect his tray�which had been practically scraped
bare�and pick up his discarded sleeping attire.

�The
young master has always been very strange,� Lavender informed him cautiously,
as though she was afraid of being overheard in a room that housed only the two
of them. �The mess the food made wasn�t there either, so it�s likely he
couldn�t stand looking at the mess himself and decided to clean it up.�

�With
what?� Harry persisted, puzzled by both Lavender�s attitude and the information
she had just relayed. He was very certain that Lavender would gossip at a
moment�s inclination and that Draco�s actions were certainly not in character.

�Never
you mind,� Lavender said a little shrilly, clearly distressed by his
determination to pursue the issue. �You had better get down to your work. Else
your preparation will have been for nothing.�

She
was right, and so Harry reluctantly left the issue to rest for the moment. After
bathing and eating breakfast he�d raced to Draco�s study, taking several
directions from footmen and maids he encountered throughout the hallways. The
collection of learning material in that spacious room alone had nearly been the
undoing of his composure, but he had pulled himself together and resolutely
gone through the neatly arranged shelves, selecting only what would be relevant
to their first meeting. Lord Malfoy hadn�t given him any guidelines as to where
he should begin, so he assumed that he had the prerogative to begin wherever he
wanted. He�d arranged the books carefully on Draco�s sprawling desk along with
several other necessities before he went back to his room to check on his
somewhat mussed appearance.

And
to keep the books he decided he needed to review before he included their
contents in his lessons.

�How
do I look?� Harry asked, not a little self-consciously. Though he was somewhat
bolstered by his good fortune as well as his clear memory of his talk with Lord
Malfoy, he also remembered with equal clarity the blonde who had brought him to
the manor in the first place.

Lavender
scored the latest addition to the Malfoy household with penetrating appraisal,
taking in his garments and his bearing. Then she giggled.

�You
look perfect,� she complimented sincerely. The
young master won�t know what hit him.

Draco
kicked the door to his study open savagely, arresting his explosive momentum
when he realized that his tutor was not, in fact, waiting for him.

It
took him a second to take in the entirety of his spacious study, telling
himself that perhaps the peasant was so insignificant that he blended into the
heavy curtains somehow, or paled so much compared to the magnificence of the
portraits on the wall that the blonde missed him. The portraits were his own,
of course.

When
the fact that he had been made to hurry to his study when the instructor was
not even there sank in, he wheeled around furiously, the burning coals of his
eyes resting on the footman he had shoved aside when he�d first entered. Sweat
was beading on the man�s stiff, starched collar, but he put up and admirably
stoic front, staring straight in front of him at nothing, waiting to be
addressed.

�Where
is he?� he growled, stepping back out into the hall.

The
footman bowed briefly, his Irish brogue irritatingly pleasant to Draco as he
responded. �He was here not more than an hour ago, milord, but he left after a
little while.�

�Well?� Draco demanded, when the footman
straightened but did nothing more. �Fetch him, damn it!�

�Yes,
milord.� The footman bowed again before setting off down the hall in a hurried
but admirably pulled-together manner. Not that Draco would admit it. The footmen
were always less satisfying to bully than the maids.

He
stalked back into his study, slamming the door even though he knew no one was
close enough to jump from the sound. It calmed a few ticking nerves, however,
and as his anger went down to a simmer he considered his situation anew.

Magic
was barred to him. That much Draco had come to accept. Though he was loathe to admit
it, a part of him was still shaking from the force that had locked onto his
magic the night before, and he was not exactly pining to repeat the experience.
Driving the peasant away was less simple now.

He
paced about his study, going over to the tall hearth at one end of the room and
weaving about the luxurious sofas, zigzagging through the tall shelves and
thinking, thinking, thinking.

If
only his father had offered the peasant to him as something of a slave, then
there wouldn�t be a problem.

You�d like that, wouldn�t you? His
father�s voice still rang in his head, somewhat sharp and mocking.

And where is the wrong in that? Draco argued
fiercely in his mind. He has a debt and
he has to pay it! He�s a filthy commoner, what can he possibly teach me? He
should be the one being instructed, not me!

He
came to a stop at his broad desk, staring down at it though he was lost in thought,
his smooth brow furrowed.

The
fact that he was reasoning with the circumstances of the peasant�s stay suggested
that perhaps he was not opposed to the peasant but to the position the peasant
was in. Having him wait on Draco hand on foot was one thing, but having him
tell Draco what to do, tell him whether he was right or wrong...

He
grit his teeth, his anger flaring afresh. It was ridiculous! The whole thing
was ridiculous! He could barely stand the other tutors, who were all from the
lower reaches of aristocracy�how could he countenance a commoner? It was an
indignity he was not going to suffer.

Besides,
that peasant annoyed him.

Luminous
green eyes popped up in his head again and he forced himself to concentrate
past the strange way his heart squeezed and his insides seemed to tangle. Revulsion,
probably. Pushing past it, he recalled the peasant�s impertinent, but hardly
fearless demeanor. Goodness knew he had been skittish enough when Draco had
first met him. Perhaps magic would not be necessary in scaring him off. Perhaps
being a foul student without magic but certainly as terrible as a plague would
suffice.

For
the first time since he�d stood there, he took note of what was actually on his
desk. Draco looked at the books that had been stacked neatly on one side and
the blank sheets of paper waiting to be written on. After a moment�s pause he
reached for the books, a smirk twisting his lips.

His
new tutor wore spectacles. Perhaps he loved reading so much and it had cost him
some of his eyesight. He had certainly made the effort to prepare Draco�s
things for him.

There
was a dull thud as the books hit the rich aubusson carpet and the sound of
crisp pages being turned as the young aristocrat prodded the books open with a
foot.

Then
he reached for the ink.

�Why�d
you have to go back if you were already done bathing, Harry?� Seamus asked
somewhat crossly, his voice low as he led the way back to the young master�s
study.

�I
told you, I had to get something,� Harry responded to the footman, keeping up
with the Irishman�s brisk strides. More
like stash a few things, but who�s wondering anyway? �Did he set upon you
that badly?�

�Not
as badly as he does Lavender and her lot,� Seamus answered, �but bad enough to
make me want to knock the bastard�s teeth in...and run screaming in the
opposite direction. O� course then I�d be out of work and me Mum would be out
for me blood.�

�Run
screaming? You?� Harry�s surprise was
genuine. He�d met the Irishman only that morning on the way to the study, but
there was a hard gleam in Seamus� eye that spoke volumes about the young man�s
character.

�Couldn�t
tell by looking at me, could you? I wouldn�t be able to either. Especially not
up against that whelp. But he proves that appearances can be deceiving.�

Harry
felt incredibly uneasy. �You mean he�s really that violent?�

�Yes,
but looking at him would tell you that a punch from that boy really wouldn�t do
much but piss you off more...�

Seamus
paused in his speech, if not his stride, and Harry was reminded of Lavender and
her hesitation. True enough, the
Irishman shrugged, as though shaking off some unseen and unwelcome weight.

�His
presence is suffocating, that�s all,� Seamus brushed off, though it sounded
awfully like he was telling himself. �Just a brat with a presence to match his
ego. Nothing special there.�

Harry
wanted to press him, but Seamus had already stopped his hassled walk in front
of a door that Harry recognized. The Irishman gave Harry a grim smile that did
nothing for his nerves, mouthed �Good luck� and promptly opened the door.

Having
braced himself for an explosion or having to dodge an assault of some sort, it
took a moment for Harry�s muscles to release their tension. Several beats of
silence passed as he took in the quiet, well-lit study that was as peaceful and
undisturbed as he had left it�save for the young blonde who was seated at his
desk, hands folded in front of him neatly as he stared straight in front of
him, apparently unaware that his tutor had arrived.

Harry
stepped into the room, his eyes on his new pupil, waiting for the blonde to
lift his eyes and look at him. Which he didn�t, even after several long moments
of expectant silence.

�Good
morning...Draco,� Harry greeted quietly, when it became apparent that the
blonde was not going to speak first. He was shaking inside, but there was a lot
riding on him actually getting the boy to learn and he wasn�t going to give it
up without trying his hardest to make things work.

Draco
flinched when his new tutor used his name. There was something in that quiet
baritone that sent a strange thrill dancing across his nerves, but he was
almost certain it was because he was repulsed by the peasant�s impertinence. The
nerve of him, addressing his better by his given name!

�One
of the maids said you didn�t touch your breakfast,� Harry went on
conversationally, shutting the door and walking towards his clearly reluctant
and fuming student, praying his nerves didn�t give way. �Feel free to ask me
for a break when you�re hungry and I�ll send for something.�

�Gossiping
with the maids now, are we?� Draco shot at him, angry and having no problems
with showing it. He ignored Harry�s statement about food and tried to be
contemptuous while ignoring the painful churning of his stomach, but even to
his own ears his voice sounded more furious than disdainful. �How like another
servant. Barely a day and you�re at it already.�

Taking
his turn to ignore Draco, Harry dared to approach him so that he was standing
right next to the young aristocrat�s desk. The well-polished teak shone up at
him unencumbered; the desk was devoid of any form of studying material though Harry
had arranged books, quills, two inkpots, and a pad of writing paper on it that
morning. The smell of ink wafted up to his nose and in a slow movement he
tilted his chin down to regard something he had never in his life imagined he
would see.

The
precious books he had made such an effort to select were brutalized, their rich
pages ripped from the spine and torn or crumpled. As though such sacrilege were
not enough, the deep obsidian ink Harry took such pleasure in smelling and
employing was poured over the tragic mess in a wanton, careless fashion that
stained the rich carpet as well.

It
was a long, tense moment before Harry trusted himself to speak.

�I
take it you don�t want to learn Algebra today,� he said as calmly as he could
manage, though his eyes remained riveted on what had been a treasure of
knowledge but a few hours ago. His throat was tight and blood was rushing to
his ears and he didn�t dare look at the young aristocrat�s face. If he caught
him smirking�which would probably be the case�he�d probably lose himself and
smash the boy�s face in.

Had
he looked, however, Harry would have found that Draco was not, in fact,
smirking. Rather he was watching with varying degrees of wariness and unease.
If Draco had pulled the little book-destroying fit on one of his former tutors
he was very certain he�d have been yelled at and disciplined within the minute.
They would have considered it an act of disrespect and impudence against the
tutor, not the book. And it was the
tutor he was meaning to attack, not the books. They were simply a means to an
end, and had it been anyone else Draco was very sure they would react
accordingly.

But
this tutor was acting as though Draco had taken the Bible and written his
complete vocabulary of colorful words over it. There was complete shock written
all over his face and a look in his eyes that made something inside him shiver.

Thus
Draco played the safe card and remained silent, his face neither gleeful nor
apologetic. He watched his tutor carefully, his muscles tensing in anticipation
for an attack he was half-sure was going to happen.

�Well,
Draco,� Harry began carefully, lifting his eyes from the butchered books at
last and directing them towards his student�s blank face. �What would you like
to learn instead?�

Draco
blinked, not expecting to be addressed so steadily and certainly not about what
he wanted to learn. No answer came to mind�not even a caustic �I don�t want to
learn��and so he simply stared at his tutor with the same expressionless mask
plastered to his features.

�Listen, I wasn�t too keen on the idea
either,� Harry tried again, remembering Lord Malfoy�s cautions and requests in
terms of dealing with Draco. �But your father seemed to really think this will
work, so I�m willing to try.�

For
one reason or another, that statement seemed to unhinge Draco�s jawbones enough
to let the blonde speak.

�No
doubt he convinced you with a fat paycheck,� Draco sneered callously, wanting
to be told that this was the truth and yet inexplicably dreading to hear that
it was.

�That,
too,� Harry owned, his eyes hardening finally. This brat wanted things to be
this way? Fine. �As well as appeals to my good character to have patience with
you. I don�t know how else he would have gotten me�or anyone, for that
matter�to teach a hopeless case like you.�

Gray
eyes turned towards him, hot with rage.

�How
dare you!� Draco snarled, his fist
raising to strike the older boy.

Harry
caught his wrist, tightening his grip and yanking the boy�s arm upward when he
made to strike him with his other hand. True enough, the pull against his arm
socket distracted the young nobleman and Harry grabbed his other hand.
Immediately the blonde struggled, trying to wrench himself out of Harry�s grip.
He felt the lithe body against him as he pinned the boy against the desk in
order to keep him from breaking loose, felt the rage that was boiling over the
nobleman�s delicate frame. Harry knew for one reason or another that he was
dealing with a boy who had�quite possibly�a bit more anger than most people and
a venue for it.

Had
he been a bit larger and taller Harry would have thought him to be the kind to
indulge in frequent physical violence against other people. Yet Harry was
managing to pin the boy down, and though Harry had conditioned his body long
enough to be able to do hard labor he was by no means a muscleman. It was more
likely that the boy abused others verbally (as Harry had just experienced) and
used his position as the lord�s son.

That will have to be corrected, Harry
decided, his own anger at the boy condensing into steely determination. He
tightened his grip and made the boy wince before pressing his weight down
further, making movement for the blonde even more difficult.

�Be
still and apologize for the books Draco,� Harry commanded sternly. �I know you did
it to make me angry, and you have. But not because you were malicious towards
me, but because you involved the books in a situation that could very well have
been settled without them in the picture. It�s childish to involve objects that
have no real fault.�

�You�re insane!�
Draco snarled, out of breath from all his struggling. He was being brought to
task because of the stupid books rather than what they meant? �My father will
get rid of you the moment I tell him you�re barking mad!�

�From
what I�ve gathered, I�m quite safe on that score,� Harry responded mildly.
�After all, he�s put up with you all
this time.�

A
moment later he was gritting his teeth as the blonde jerked violently, managing
to loosen Harry�s hold enough so he could jam his elbow into Harry�s ribs. The
calm he had grabbed onto was slipping away again and Harry knew that if things
continued this way he would end up seriously hurting the boy. His fingers bit
into the noble�s arm and he shoved downwards so that he pinned the boy�s wrists
to his chest.

�Argh!�

Draco
felt something pull in his forearm and was almost certain that the dirty
peasant had crushed his wrist bones.

�Be
still!� Harry said urgently, some of his anger fading as he looked down at his
charge�s face.

The
ivory of his complexion was stained with a cherry flush that prompted a range
of confusing signals to hit Harry�s brain. The infusion of the becoming color
made the blonde�s cruelly beautiful features softer and somewhat sweeter, and
it was making Harry frown because of all the strange messages his body was
sending in response. Draco�s eyes were also larger, his pupils so huge that his
flinty gray eyes were almost black. His lips were drawn back so that he was
almost baring his teeth and Harry observed that even that part of Draco�s
anatomy was exceptionally fine.

Beneath
Harry�s wiry frame Draco remained oblivious to his tutor�s scrutiny. What he
understood was that he was angry and embarrassed and in such pain that he was
going to make the bespectacled bastard above him pay for his transgressions
dearly.

�I�m
going to tell my father,� Draco growled, so caught up with the pain in his arm
that he missed how childish he sounded. �You�ll be out on your ear, you dirty
peasant!�

�Go
ahead,� Harry dared him, reassured only by Lord Malfoy�s words to him earlier.
�It�ll only add one more person to the mile-long list of people who know you�re
insufferable.�

�LET�ME�GO!!!� Draco struggled wildly, uncaring
of his condition as something that was very nearly panic settled in his chest,
reaching upwards to choke him.

Later
on Harry would wonder where his brain had gone.

As
Draco finally managed to break Harry�s grip and push him off, Harry did the
strangest thing. Rather than hit the boy, as he�d been craving to do since the
moment he�d met him, his arms shot out and yanked the smaller frame against his
own, crushing the boy to his chest and managing to wind him enough to still his
movements.

Though
it was more shock than the impact that made Draco stop struggling. As he took
in his tutor�s fresh, clean scent and heard the distinct beat of the older
boy�s heart, something stole over him that made him blink before his own heart
started hammering.

�What
are you doing?� Draco demanded, though his voice came out in a terrified
whisper.

Harry
took a step back so that there was space between them but his hands remained
locked onto Draco�s wrists in a grip that was not painful anymore but still
firm.

�I
need you to calm down and listen to me, Draco,� Harry said slowly, his own
breathing hitched, though he told himself it was because of their struggling
with each other. �I am going to teach you whether you like it or not. We can do
this all day everyday until you understand that. Or you could simply cooperate
and start learning your lessons�academic and otherwise�and make this easier for
both of us.�

Draco
stared up at him, trying to be resentful though it was difficult to muster up
the anger when he couldn�t concentrate. Harry Potter�s eyes were a dark
viridian now as they observed Draco in a manner that sent the heat rushing to
his cheeks. He didn�t want to hurt the man as much as he wanted to cover his
face and run out of the room.

Which
was idiocy, of course.

�Let
me go,� Draco repeated in a steady voice that wavered only towards the end as
he saw Harry�s eyes drop to his lips when he spoke.

For
some reason, being this close to the peasant made him nervous. It was a stupid
feeling, really, when he knew he could simply fry the man at a whim...

...if
his father didn�t manage to stop him.

With
the option of magic unavailable to him, Draco considered the possibility of
being overpowered by Harry Potter. Looming over him, his green eyes blazing
clean through his spectacles as he held Draco�s hands inches from his chest,
Harry Potter didn�t look so gentle and docile anymore.

Again
Draco was swept with a wave of feeling that urged him to run.

�If
I let you go, will you promise to sit down and behave?� Harry asked quietly,
reining in his temper and other uncharacteristic feelings and telling himself
he could possibly be getting out of line. A sarcastic voice in his head hissed,
Possibly?!

�I
make no promises to peasants,� Draco snapped, furious that Potter�s quiet tone
was even more unnerving than his angry one. He struggled against Potter�s grip,
his magic welling inside him as his frustration grew with the feeling of
helplessness. �Now unhand me this instant or you�ll be sorry!�

�I
don�t take threats from brats seriously,� Harry countered, seemingly unfazed
though he was torn between seriously hurting the younger boy and seriously
hurting himself. He wasn�t certain Lord Malfoy had meant trashing the slender
blonde (and then getting strange urges to do other things) when he�d asked
Harry to discipline Draco. �Now stay still
and I will let go of you! Do you
actually think I like hanging onto
you like this?�

The
silence was suddenly so thick that Harry would have heard a feather hit the
floor. The blonde had stopped struggling and was simply standing before him,
but the tension in the air had seemed to mount to even greater heights than he
had thought possible. Draco�s eyes were like chips of slate and his expression
was suddenly fiercer yet icier than ever. Lifting his chin in a way that all
but screamed about his nobility, he lifted his brows with even more arrogance.

�Well?� he asked coolly. �Are you going
to let go of me or are you going to prove yourself a liar?�

Somewhere
in the split second before Draco had spoken the tables had turned. Harry
suddenly found himself feeling awkward and suddenly much smaller than the boy
he was looming over. He had a strong impulse to bit his lip and shuffle his feet,
and he was horrified at the heat that was suffusing his cheeks. So caught up
was he in the feelings that were sweeping over him that the best response he
managed was: �Eh?�

�You
hate having to touch me, don�t you?� Draco accused viciously. �Touching me is
an obligation, isn�t it, but you�d do anything for your mean salary, wouldn�t
you?�

Harry
deflected the accusations with the accuracy of someone with a blindfold.

�I
said I didn�t like having to touch you, it�s different from hating it,� Harry
protested earnestly. �And no, it�s
not an obligation, and I resent you constantly saying I�m doing it just for the
money. Trust me, no salary in the world is worth having to put up with this�and
on the first day, no less! Good Lord, it�s lucky I have experience from dealing
with Dudley�er...why are we talking about this?�

Draco
conveniently ignored his last question. Instead, he fired one of his own.

�Who�s
Dudley?� he demanded, watching
Harry like a hawk.

�My
cousin,� Harry replied with a roll of his eyes that made Draco want to jump
him. Violently, of course. With the purpose of harming him. Harry went on to shake
his head as though attempting to clear it. �In any case, it has nothing to do
with our situation. This is getting ridiculous. If somebody told me I�d end up
like this when I first agreed to tutor you I�d have never believed them, but
you seem to make even the most ludicrous situations possible.�

Coloring,
the aristocrat yanked himself free of Harry�s slackened grip and managed to do
what Harry had been preventing him from doing from the minute they�d set eyes
on each other.

Slap!

�Son
of a bitch,� Harry swore softly, gritting his teeth as the soft, cool cloth was
pressed to the angry swell on his cheek.

�Now,
now,� Lavender soothed gently, giving him a sympathetic glance. �I warned you
about his temper.�

Harry
glared balefully at her and sighed with exasperation when she started giggling.
She was tending to him, for which Harry was grateful, but couldn�t she try to
be less mirthful in the face of catastrophe?

After
Draco Malfoy had given him a slap that was sure to leave a permanent handprint
on his left cheek, Harry had braced for the worst. Perhaps yelling, more
physical assault, and several expensive objects that he would either have to
catch or risk them crashing into his face. Instead the boy had behaved
uncharacteristically and simply dashed out of the room as though Harry was the
one on a rampage. According to Lavender, he�d run to his room and was still
locked in there although it was already past noon.

This is not
good.

Was
this his plan? Harry growled inwardly when he thought about how he�d lost a
grip on what was fundamental and oh so simple in the short minutes he�d been in
Draco�s company. The blonde had clearly been trying to rile him by destroying
the books, and he�d succeeded in that goal. But why had he done it? Draco was
spoiled, but he certainly didn�t seem stupid. Had there been more behind his
disrespect? Was it bait to make Harry act out of line so that he could tell his
father and get Harry into more trouble? Was he waiting in his room for word to
reach Lord Malfoy about their disastrous meeting so he could play the part of
the wronged?

�The
Master will be home tonight,� Lavender said quietly, breaking into Harry�s
thoughts with her tone and the sudden seriousness of her expression. �Quite a
few people saw the Young Master, a fair number saw you, and even more of them are talking about you two now. It�s
mostly just guesses at what happened, but it�s a strong prediction that...� She
bit her lip and lowered her hand, her eyes shifting away awkwardly to examine
his cheek.

�He�ll
dismiss me,� Harry concluded dully.

�Draco
has an evil streak in him, Harry,� Lavender whispered, her eyes clouded with
fear. She leaned in closer as though someone was near enough to hear them and
Harry heard the same nagging voice in his head that spoke of secrets. �Whatever
you did to upset him, he won�t let it slide.�

�Just
my luck,� Harry muttered, leaning closer to her when she pressed the cloth to
his cheek again. �Honestly, Lavender, I pity anyone who has to spend five
minutes with that boy. I would have probably quit anyway.�

Lavender
sighed, lowering her hand again and letting the cloth drop into the wooden
basin filled with fresh, icy water. It was truly such a shame that Harry had
gotten on the evil brat�s bad side. Lavender didn�t know much about books and
art or any of the things that the privileged classes enjoyed, but she could
tell that Harry was very talented in those areas. He was smart and kind and had
it been anyone else but Draco Malfoy he would have gained much repute and
privilege from his position.

Harry
let the silent stretch, looking around his spacious, beautiful room and feeling
a pang of bitterness as he took into consideration the fact that he wouldn�t be
able to enjoy it much longer. So much for saying goodbye to the Dursleys and carving
out a future he actually wanted.

�Don�t
look so miserable, Harry,� Lavender said consolingly. �I�m sure you�ll find
employment somewhere. Even if Lord
Malfoy tosses you out without a reference.�

Draco
turned so that he was lying on his back, feeling at odds with himself for the
first time in his life. He felt like curling up yet getting beneath the sheets
made him feel too hot; he wanted to undress and hide from a pair of sparkling
green eyes and yet felt like suiting himself up in his great grandfather�s
armor and marching up to the peasant to demand satisfaction.

For what, though?

He
growled, flopping onto his stomach and burying his burning face into the
pillows. Did men usually challenge other men to a duel over insults? It seemed likely,
but something in him seemed somewhat averse to going up against Harry Potter in
something like that. Why, though? He wanted to hurt the older boy, didn�t he?
Hell, he�d already done it. Still...he�d been equally disrespectful, hadn�t he?

Am I actually making excuses for him?

His
eyes flew open and he rolled to his side, his brows contracting. Pulling his
knees up to his chest he hugged them close and proceeded to nibble on his
thumb, the childish behavior lost on him though he was certain he�d broken
himself of the habit that he resorted to when he was distressed.

His
hand still burned where it had met Harry Potter�s cheek. Draco felt another
tight ache in his chest when he remembered Harry�s expression at that moment. He
hadn�t waited for any further reaction past the stunned look in his tutor�s
eyes and in another uncharacteristic action had bolted from the room like a
terrified rabbit.

�Bastard,�
Draco whispered into the silence of his oppressively splendid room. Harry
Potter was making him behave in ways he would never have thought himself
capable of even considering. It was obvious that he had to get rid of him.

So
why was he hesitating?

He
felt his face burn again as he recalled the manner in which Harry Potter had
treated him from the first. Clearly the older boy was a fool and stupidly
naive, having no conception of the implications of social standing and the base
factor of finances. He had a smart mouth for a commoner and a Muggle and he was
unexpectedly forceful and audacious enough to lay a hand on his employer�s son.

Thinking
about Harry Potter�s mouth and hands made a strange tingling run down his spine
and he sat bolt upright in bed, his hands coming to clutch his head as he tried
to clear it of the mental image.

Damn.

Taking
a deep breath he hugged himself and closed his eyes. Objectively�he grit his
teeth as he processed his thoughts�he was affected by Harry Potter in a way
that was extremely disturbing and inconvenient. The sensible thing was to get
as far away from Potter as possible, but for some reason the idea was also
disturbing and inconvenient. What to do?

What
was so damn special about Potter anyway? Clearly his father saw much in him,
but even if he were the most powerful, talented wizard in the world Draco
wouldn�t have given a damn. He would have simply asked, �So what?�

Which
was probably what was most disturbing: the fact that whatever it was about Harry
Potter that got to him, it wasn�t something easy to spot. It wasn�t that he was
intelligent (or so his father said) or industrious or any of the other things that
made people stand out.

Bloody Potter.

Growling,
he swung his legs over the edge of his bed and reached for his boots. He was
going to have a word with Potter. He was going to tell him off and put him in
his place, and then he was going to sit down and let the bastard try to teach
him. He didn�t need a tutor, but if it made life for the peasant more difficult
he was going to be the worst student in the world.

Satisfied
that he had come up with a plan, rough though it was, he got to his feet and stomped
over to the door, building his momentum so that by the time he faced Potter the
tutor would be hit by a full-blown whirlwind.

Harry
sighed for the third time since entering the study, his eyes still on the books
his foul-tempered, erratic student had ruined. Some maids had come in
ostensibly to patch up whatever furniture may have been ruined. The carpet was
a lost cause, they had probably realized, and so it had been replaced with a
new one. Still, heaped on the desk were the roots and evidence of the disaster
that had been Harry and Draco�s first meeting as tutor and pupil.

They
were a lost cause, he was certain. Whatever large sheaves had not been torn
were blotted through and through with the heavy black ink and less than a
single percentage of the information they had stored was readable. They might
as well be burned.

Whatever
the case, it wasn�t his place to decide such things. Shifting the load he had
tucked under his arm, he walked over to the long line of shelves, browsing
covers he knew he would not be able to explore thoroughly as he made his way to
where he had pulled the first book.

He
was on his way to returning the last two books when he heard the soft but distinct
sound of the latch clicking. He stopped and turned to look over his shoulder, something
twisting inside him when he spotted the last person in the world that he wanted
to see.

Draco
had opened the door will full intentions of slamming it shut so as to startle
his tutor, but at the sight of the somewhat broad back and...other things...he
felt much of his mastered, furious tirade slipped way. The lines he�d been
going over from his room to Harry�s and then to the study once he had been
informed of where his tutor had gone melted away when he caught the melancholy,
worn expression on his tutor�s face before he had heard Draco mindlessly shut
the door quietly.

Before
he could stop himself Draco bit his lower lip. The expression had fallen away
from Harry�s face as though someone had wiped it clean off and though he looked
in Draco�s direction he appeared to stare right through him, as though he saw
no one there. This made Draco angry, but more importantly it sent a sharp note
of alarm go through him. Somehow he preferred anger to match his own, not...disregard.

Harry
turned away, deciding that whatever reason Draco had come, he was not going to
give the boy the satisfaction of riling him a second time. He was going to
leave, but he was going to do it with dignity. Locating the free spots where
the two books belonged, he bent down and began putting the other books in order
so that the two would fit perfectly and be perfectly arranged.

The
silence crawled painfully by and Draco was screaming at himself inside as his
throat tightened and he tried to get the words out. Not those of his rehearsed
angry speech, which was permanently lost as far as he knew, but rather words
that seemed appropriate in a situation that seemed to be spiraling further and
further out of his control. They were not his favorite words and Draco could
count on one hand the number of times he had said them in his life, but they were
important words to be used in desperate situations.

And
for some reason, Draco considered his tutor�s demeanor and unexpected treatment
to be a desperate situation.

He
swallowed thickly, mustering his nerve.

�I�m
so��

�Don�t
worry,� Harry interrupted calmly, sliding the books reverently back into place,
still not looking at him. The moment he had heard Draco�s voice he had wanted
to cover his ears and hide his head under a pillow. Somehow, it was imperative
that the boy not speak or say anything to tip the balance Harry was keeping on
his emotions, and though a part of him wondered what Draco had meant to say a
greater part preferred that the boy just shut up. �I�ll be gone by morning, I
promise. I just want to be able to explain to your father and apologize for ruining
this opportunity.�

Draco
stared at him, his apology lost as he was faced with this new development.
Which was somewhat surprisingly unwelcome to him. His brows snapped together
once more and he clenched his fists, taking a step forward.

�I
didn�t say you could go,� he said stonily, glaring at the back of Potter�s
head.

�And
you don�t plan to?� Harry raised his brows in disbelief, turning to look at
Draco over his shoulder. He unfolded so that he was once more looking down at
Draco, even as he stood several feet away. �After everything that happened in
this room, you still want me to be your tutor? And you expect I do, too? While
we�re on that, what makes you think I live my life based on your whims?�

�You
grabbed me!� Draco burst out randomly, heat suffusing his cheeks once more,
wishing that he was talking to the back of Harry�s head. Originally he had been
annoyed that Harry wasn�t facing him, but having to stare down the cool,
detached manner in which Potter studied him was suddenly much worse. �And you
said those things...�

�I
didn�t start the word war, Draco,� Harry pointed out, moving towards the desk.
Draco backed away instinctively, which gained him a sardonic look from his
tutor. Touching the books that were such an issue, Harry went on. �I didn�t cast
the first stone, either.�

Draco�s
twisted his fingers agitatedly, watching as Potter took a seat at the desk and
pulled a sheet of writing paper towards him. Someone had gone through the
trouble of re-stocking what Draco had cruelly played with, but that was lost on
the young aristocrat as he watched Potter lift a quill and begin writing.

�What
are you doing?� Draco asked, his alarm rising.

�Writing
a letter of explanation to your father,� Harry answered tonelessly, not looking
up from the paper. �He and I agreed that tutoring you would be a means to cover
my fine for trespassing, but today made clear that it isn�t feasible. I�ll have
to find employment elsewhere and pay him back gradually, as I originally
planned. Some of the staff mentioned he may be getting in late and I don�t want
to trouble him when he may be frantic to get to bed. I�ll leave this in the
housekeeper�s care so that he can read it in the morning.�

�What
if he doesn�t allow you to leave?� Draco persisted, stepping closer though the
alarm bells were now deafening in his head. He wanted to break the ink bottle,
burn the quill, and rip the letter to shreds. And then jump his tutor and...

Beat him senseless, of course! he
snapped at himself. How dare he presume
he can just take off on me?

�Well,
then he�ll simply have to chain me up and send me to debtor�s prison,� Harry
concluded grimly, scribbling the letter as quickly as he could so that he could
be gone from the brat�s unwelcome presence.

�Why
don�t you just teach me like you agreed?!� Draco demanded, fed up. His hand
crashed down on the table and caused the ink bottle to jump, simultaneously
ruining Harry�s flowing script.

Harry
gave the ruined letter a long look before lifting his eyes to meet Draco�s
coldly.

�I�ve
told you,� he said blandly, �it�s not feasible. You�re an impossible student
and you�ve made it clear from the first moment that you won�t let me teach you
anything.�

Draco
grit his teeth, wanting to hit the older boy again.

�You�re
always insulting me!� he shot back defensively, retrieving his hand and crossing
his arms.

�Oh,
please, let�s not, shall we?� Harry crumpled up the letter and reached for
another sheet of paper. �I did this, you did that�the simple fact is that we do
not mesh well together. Let�s end this and leave the justifications at that.�

Draco
grabbed his hand, taking the writing paper and dumping it onto the carpet. He then
reached for the ink, but it was Harry�s turn to grab his hand. Again.

�Do
you really want us to go into a second round of this?� Harry asked wearily, wanting
to bang his head on the table.

�I�ll
let you teach me!� Draco hissed in a low voice, giving him a look so venomous
that it took Harry several long seconds to get past it and actually take what
the blonde had said into consideration.

Slowly
he released Draco�s hand and they both moved back as Draco released him as
well. A full minute passed with Harry simply staring at the blonde�s face, trying
to find a glint of cruel amusement or anything indicating a lie, but try as he
might he found nothing. Perhaps he had heard wrong...?

�What?�
he asked evenly, not willing to own the satisfaction and relief brimming inside
him as Draco stepped forward awkwardly, flushed and looking distinctly unhappy.

�Get
your ears cleaned,� Draco snapped. �I said I�d let you teach me!� Glaring, he
added with emphasis: �If you stop
insulting me all the time.�

Smiling
slowly, Harry gestured to the seat next to him.

�Fair
enough,� he acceded. �Will you sit down then? Shall we begin now?�

As
Draco sat down and crossed his arms, Harry was unable to resist sliding his
fingers through the blonde�s hair and saying, �There�s hope for you yet, then,
Draco Malfoy.�

Draco
gave him an irritated look but didn�t shrug his hand off as Harry expected he
would. Instead he turned his head so that he could look up at Harry better and
Harry knew the moment the boy caught sight of the handprint welt on his cheek. It
was probably the first time he had noticed it�Lavender�s attention had caused
the angry mark to recede substantially. The silver eyes darkened somewhat and
though he didn�t speak Harry was vaguely aware of what he felt inside.

�About
this,� Harry decided to say, despite Draco�s obvious discomfort in discussing
it, �I�ll have to teach you how to throw a punch. That I wouldn�t have minded,
really. Walking around with a slap mark is just humiliating. People might say I
did something improper to a lady or a maid.�

Harry
realized it was the wrong thing to say when the fire in Draco�s eyes kindled
and he was forced to trail his fuming student to his quarters, apologizing
along the way though a part of him was still vague on what Draco was so angry
about.

Yay, I finally finished writing this chapter! (^^,)
I know it took really long for me to get it out, and for that I�m very sorry,
but I was caught up in academics, extra-curriculars, work, and personal drama.
To make up for it I�ve written quite a longer chapter and I can promise one
equally long (and more juicy...hrmmm...I�m getting more insinuating by the
second, aren�t I?) probably around Christmas time or soon after it. Sorry, guys!
In the meantime, please review and let me know what you think so far. (^^,)

Furthermore, I�d like to post a quick thanks to the
people who reviewed the first chapter�it really meant a lot! (^^,)

celestialuna, paigeey07, sihaja,
imperial13, Sookisa (your review is not
pointless), momoko,
wickedwiccanofthemiddwest, ririra, nursecare, thrnbrooke, thank you very
much and I�m glad you liked it. I like you.
*ties said people up and tries to brainwash them into constantly repeating what
they said* bleedingheart, Ode to
Gringotts, RRW, dagget, JHBlake, Justmine25, Lilith, Luie, Crio, I�m so
happy you didn�t find the first chapter boring�I was so afraid people would
find it too dry for their tastes. Thank you so much for your support, and I
hope you like this chapter much more than the first! *kisses said people
noisily for several long minutes* eyeglass82,
I haven�t quite decided who�s top yet�clearly Draco�s more aggressive, but (heehee...^^,) Harry�s older and can
only be pushed around to a certain point, so...well, let�s see. I�ll take your
request into consideration. (^^,) GreenEyedCat,
I think Draco will like all aspects of Harry�he�s just confused about it at
present. Heehee...*sinister laugh* lazycrazykitten,
smutty thoughts about his son! Heehee...I�m kidding. Kind of. We�ll see. (^^,) And
finally, Vex, I hope you enjoyed
this chapter more than the last one. I�m trying to fit Draco into my kind of
spoiled: the adorably annoying kind, heehee. (^^,) I�d hate to lose my books,
too, and about his horse...well, let�s wait for the next chapter. (^^,) You,
dagget, and I, must all love horses, ne? (^^,)

And before I go, I�d like to announce that if you want
to be notified when I update, please say so in your review (leave an e-mail for
non-members). I promise I�ll let you know promptly when I release a new chapter
(or story).

Thanks so much, and see you guys again! (^^,) Oh, and would someone please clear this up for me: what's the difference between using "blonde" and "blond"?
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