"Good morning, Draco," Millicent said, shaking her head, and holding the door open for him.

"Morning Millicent," Draco said hurrying past her into the girl's dorm, "Pansy!"

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Daphne screeched.

Draco waved a dismissive hand in her general direction, pulling open the curtains of Pansy's bed.

Pansy scowled up at him, her eyes squinted nearly shut, her hair spread in a mess across her crumpled pillow.

"GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT!" Daphne wailed.

"Oh shut up, Daphne," Pansy muttered.

Daphne stamped her feet, "I'm not dressed! This is highly inappropriate!"

"He's not interested, Daphne," Pansy said flatly.

Draco sat on the end of Pansy's bed, pulling his knees up as he turned to face her, "Listen-"

"I don't care if he's your boyfriend, I want him out!" Daphne demanded.

Pansy rolled her eyes, "You're slower than a sea sponge, Daphne."

Draco spelled the curtains closed, following it with a privacy charm and a small lumos, "There's something I need to tell you-"

"Are you pregnant?" Pansy asked.

"What?!" Draco said, thoroughly taken aback, "No!"

"And you're not dead, so I couldn't possibly care less," Pansy said, pressing her face back into her pillow with a sigh.

"It's about Potter," Draco said urgently.

"Still don't care," Pansy said, her words muffled.

Draco smacked her leg under the blanket, "You'd have to get up in fifteen minutes anyway so just listen to me."

Pansy pulled her leg back and kicked him in the shin, "Fuck you. This had better be interesting."

"I may have neglected to mention that Potter discovered me brewing yesterday," Draco said.

Pansy turned her head, her eye slowly opening like an enraged sea serpent emerging from the depths, "You neglected to mention?"

"I was going to, but Potter was- he-" Draco looked down at his hands, tangling his fingers together, "he surprised me. He asked to help me brew the wolfsbane."

"What?" Pansy struggled up to a sitting position, "Potter's helping you? I offered to help and you told me to piss off."

Draco gave her a look, "You got a Dreadful on your Owls and dropped the class after fifth year. You are maliciously bad at potions."

Pansy shrugged, "So?"

Draco rolled his eyes.

Pansy grabbed her wand and charmed her hair straight with a sigh, "How's it going then?"

"He's a decent brewer but..." Draco hesitated, "Potter said I was weird."

"You are weird," Pansy said.

"I'm not."

Pansy yawned and scratched her nose, "Whatever. Weird how?"

"He thought I was imperused," Draco huffed, "Just because I was polite and nice."

Pansy looked thoughtful and then nodded, "That's rather clever. I mean if you ignore the easiest solution of you being stupid in love, it makes sense."

Draco flushed and frowned, "I'm not in love."

"You are stupid."

"I hate you," Draco said.

"I hate you too," Pansy said sweetly then laughed. A sing-songy chime started playing from Pansy's pillow, and she quickly grabbed her wand, turning off the alarm. "Daphne's gone," she said as she pulled the curtains back."

"Good. Because I'm not done telling you everything."

Pansy threw her head back with a groan.

"It's wretchedly embarrassing, and I'm absolutely not telling you about it in public," Draco said.

Pansy perked up, "It better be. You still haven't made up for the twenty minutes of sleep I could have enjoyed instead of suffering through you."

"Fifteen."

Pansy shrugged and pulled her wardrobe open, "Well, at least you've already started the next step."

"The next step?" Draco's brow furrowed as he laid back on Pansy's bed.

"Step five? The next step? You know the one you wrote down? On the list we made?" Pansy said pulling on her uniform and tossing her pyjamas on the floor.

Step Five: Try to spend time together outside of class.

"You've got another few nights alone with him," Pansy said.

Draco stared up at the canopy of Pansy's bed with a frown. He pressed his hands over his face, "I'm absolutely going to fuck it up."

  '~*~'   

Draco put down his pestle and titled his head towards the door, ears straining after the faint sound of footsteps, like someone was pacing. But just like the sounds that he swore he had heard earlier, they must have been just a product of his anticipation.

He shook his head and turned back to ingredients in front of him. He had finished preparing nearly all of them now, and Potter had still not shown up. Draco wondered if he changed his mind.

The door creaked open and then closed except for a crack. Potter pulled off his invisibility cloak, "Err, Hi."

"You're quite late," Draco said.

"Yeah," Potter dragged his hand through his hair which he had apparently been doing all night, that or letting a niffler nest in it. "I'll, uh, just-" he pointed to the sink and went over, taking his time washing his hands.

"Something happen?" Draco asked.

"Something-?" Potter twitched. "Oh, you mean being late? I just... dozed off after my alarm."

Draco frowned, quite certain Potter was lying, "...I've finished everything except the nettles. I saved them for you if you decided to show up."

"The nettles," Potter said, quickly drying his hands and hurrying to the other side of the table. He took the knife and pile of nettle leaves, "Then I did alright on these last time?"

"They're almost impossible to fuck up. It's the simplest part of the potion," Draco said.

Potter blinked and looked up at him.

Draco raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"Git," Potter said sounding relieved.

Draco turned to the cauldron and measured out the potion base, and by the time he needed the minced nettle, Potter had it ready.

As Draco finished the first wolfsbane, Potter said, "You really are the best at potions in our year."

Draco was only half listening as he squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could rub the weariness from them.

"Best in the school maybe," Potter added thoughtfully.

"There's a Ravenclaw girl in fifth year with a lot of potential," Draco said absently, "She has excellent instincts." He brow furrowed and he mentally repeated the conversation.

It was a compliment. Potter had complimented him

When he looked up Potter was grinning and, Draco felt unaccountably annoyed with him. "That's very kind, thank you," Draco said stiffly, fussing with the cauldron so he wouldn't flush, or if he did it would be suitably hidden.

Potter huffed, "Weird."

"And how am I supposed to act?" Draco asked peevishly.

Potter shrugged, "I feel like you'd be mad at me normally."

"Why?"

"Because... you'd think I'm making fun of you," Potter said.

Draco narrowed his eyes, "Are you?"

"No!" Potter said quickly, "I was just-"

"Provoking me," Draco finished for him.

"I wasn't!" Potter said.

"You were," Draco said, giving him a flat stare.

"I-" Potter faltered and frowned, "It's not like I wanted you to hit me."

"Fine then, you're an idiot," Draco said.

"Hey!"

Draco sniffed, "That's what you wanted isn't it?"

"Who would want to be insulted?!" Potter said.

Draco shrugged, "You, apparently."

"I don't-" Potter frowned to himself, "Let's just get this done."

Draco went to the second cauldron to start the next potion. The thing that annoyed him the most was that Potter thought he could provoke Draco in the first place. Draco was the one who did the provoking, and he was better at it.

He smirked faintly as an idea came to him. By the time they were nearly done, Draco had a plan.

"Why don't you brew the last potion?" Draco said, stepping to the side.

Potter froze, his eyes widening in alarm, "Why don't I what?"

Draco gestured to the cauldron, "You've seen me do it a dozen times now, and I'll make sure you don't foul it up."

"No way," Potter shook his head vehemently.

Draco sighed, "How in the world are you planning to pass your Newts if you can't brew? A majority of the final score goes to the potions brewed during the exam."

"I don't need to brew this one," Potter pointed out.

Draco deliberately stepped back in front of the cauldron, "You're right, I can't expect you-"

"You-," Potter scowled. "No, I'll do it. Shove over" He waved Draco out of the way and took the stirring rod, "It's got to simmer then add the nettle, two stirs clockwise, three counter and add the bone, right?"

"Yes," Draco said, stifling a grin. "The easiest way to keep track of the correct development of this potion is the smell."

"The smell," Potter leaned over the cauldron and sniffed cautiously. His nose wrinkled, "It smells like sour milk."

"And that develops into an earthy smell although the sour scent will linger faintly even in the completed potion," Draco said handing him the next ingredient.

"Four turns clockwise?"

Draco nodded, "Yes, and switch to the silver stirring rod. Shake off it off well, good. Losing too much liquid can cause an incomplete secondary reaction stage."

Potter's brow furrowed in concentration, "Twice counterclockwise with the silver..."

Draco almost held his breath as he picked up the next ingredient and held it out, "The earthy smell will start to come out with the addition of the asphodel."

Potter leaned over the cauldron as he dumped in the minced leaves, "How much do you stir it?"

"Up to twelve times, alternating clockwise and counterclockwise until it's fully incorporated," Draco said, leaning back.

The potion made a slurping wet noise. Draco held his breath as a massive air bubble pushed up and popped in a belch, spattering greeny brown goop all over Potters face and hair.

Potter recoiled with a sputtered, "Fucking-Merlin!"

Draco snickered, snatching the stirring wand from Potter's hand and continuing to stir.

"Malfoy!" Potter yelled pulling his glasses off and wiping his face with the back of his sleeve.

"It's still inert!" Draco laughed, " Just wash it off."

"You knew that would happen!" Potter pointed his glasses accusingly at Draco as he hurried to the sink.

Draco carefully sprinkled the next ingredient, trying to focus on the potion but still grinning with far too much self-satisfaction, "Only you, Potter, would forget that asphodel produces a copious amount of gas when added to an acidic compound." He couldn't help laughing again, "You never add it all at once."

Potter stomped back over, his hair and sleeves soaked with water, trying to clean his glasses with the inside of his shirt. They were still faintly smeared when he put them on, "You are such a git."

Draco's smile softened, "And you look like a half-drowned rat."

"I-" Potter blinked, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard, "Have you always smiled like that?"

Draco's brow furrowed, "Like what?"

Potter's eyes widened, "I- No. Nevermind you-" he took a step backwards, his words running together," -you have to add the next ingredient don't you? I'm just gonna go out in the hall, spell myself dry-" He jerked the door open and darted outside.

Draco stared after him for a second then quickly added the last ingredient, stirring three times clockwise and three times counter. He withdrew the stirring rod, watching the unappealing goop with apprehension as it took on the correct greenish colour and the sour milk scent was overpowered by the right sort of swampy smell. He would test it anyway just to be safe.

Draco dispelled the flames and grinned again; that was how you provoked someone into doing exactly what you wanted.