in which Draco needs to ace Herbology
Part 1/? (I don’t know how long this is going to end up being lol)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/25758838/chapters/62556034
Setting: Hogwarts, 3rd year
Content warnings: None. Contains subtle hints of Drarry (with more to come)
Summary: Star student Draco Malfoy is acing all his courses...except Herbology. His father threatens to pull Draco out of Quidditch if he doesn’t get straight As on all his exams, and with time running out before the Herbology final, a desperate Draco finds himself reluctantly accepting help from a most unlikely source.
Featuring: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley
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“Draco!” Lucius Malfoy’s cold, stern voice reverberated throughout the Great Hall, causing many heads to turn to the Howler that had just flown in to interrupt everyone’s luncheon. Draco Malfoy put his head into his hands as his father’s voice began to berate him about his mid-term progress grades. “Your school performance thus far is highly unsatisfactory.” Draco got mostly As with a few Bs. “Don’t you dare tarnish our family name with a B again. If you don’t bring your average up to an A by winter break, I’m taking you off the Quidditch team!” The letter promptly burst into flame and burned into a little pile of ash on the table. Draco’s Quidditch teammates looked at him with worry and discomfort at the thought of losing their star Seeker, while quiet chuckles and snickers came from the other tables.
“Bloody hell!” exclaimed Ron Weasley, turning to a wide-eyed Harry Potter. “What are them Slytherins going to do without Malfoy hunting you down every game, Harry?”
Hermione Granger shrugged. “I suppose Gryffindor is going to start winning a lot more matches.”
“I guess so,” agreed Harry absent-mindedly. According to Harry, Draco Malfoy had a lot of deficiencies, but intelligence was definitely not one of them. Lucius Malfoy’s standards must have been very demanding. The trio, along with just about everyone else, watched as a sullen Draco pushed away his half-eaten lunch and slinked out of the Hall.
-
The loud cheers faded into the background as Harry strode into the locker room. His last Quidditch match of the term had just ended with a Slytherin victory, but he was still in good spirits, energized by the lingering sensation of the cool autumn wind in his hair and on his cheeks. He took his time changing out of uniform and back into his regular school robes, aware that this was the last time he would get to do so until next term. By the time Harry started to walk casually towards the exit, nearly all the other players had already gone. But in the corner of Harry’s eye, he spotted a lone hunched-over figure sitting on one of the benches, his blond hair hanging over his eyes. Harry hesitantly turned away from the exit and towards Draco Malfoy. Harry was used to Draco’s excessive gloating after every Slytherin victory, yet despite the fact that he had just secured the win for his team that day, Draco seemed pretty downcast.
“Is your dad really going to take you out of Quidditch because of bad grades?” Harry inquired. “You seemed to be doing pretty well in Potions.”
Draco glared up at him with stormy grey eyes. “I’m acing Potions. It’s Herbology that’s the trouble. It’s boring and useless -” (Harry shrugged understandingly; he never cared much about plants either) “- and Professor Sprout never grades me fairly. I suppose that teacher’s pet Granger doesn’t have that problem, does she, Potter?” Draco sneered. His hostile expression quickly weakened, however, as he looked around the familiar locker room.
Since the classroom environment was so restrictive, the only time Draco ever felt truly powerful was when he blasted through the air on his broom, knocking opponents out of the way and skilfully dodging obstacles as he chased victory and received the cheers and admiration of his peers. He couldn’t imagine his life at Hogwarts without Quidditch.
Draco groaned in frustration and ran his hands through his hair as Harry stood there awkwardly. He knew Draco needed help, but he also knew the proud Slytherin would never ask. He arguably didn’t even deserve help, but Harry found himself thinking about how terrible he would feel in Draco’s current position. Powerless, and desperate, even. An idea began to come alight in Harry’s mind.
“Why don’t you…” Harry started carefully, “…come study with us? Hermione got ‘perfect’ on her last assignment – which I honestly didn’t even know was possible – and she could teach you all her tricks. She’s smarter than anyone I know.”
“Oh, yeah. Exam prep with the Mudblood, the Weasel, and the Wonder Boy. Sounds great,” Draco retorted sarcastically. “The noble, virtuous Saint Potter, rescuing me from my plight!”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Listen, Malfoy. You either ace Herbology or you never get to knock me out of the sky again. You choose.” Harry stared Draco straight in the eye, as if challenging him. How far would he let his pride go?
Draco clenched his jaw and turned away from Harry’s intense gaze. Crabb & Goyle certainly weren’t ideal study partners, and Draco didn’t exactly have a cooperative reputation even in his own House. The Herbology final was mere days away and his options were narrow. “No one can see us together. It’ll be the first and the last time I ever choose to be around you lot.”
If Harry didn’t know any better, Draco was making it sound like they were going to start secretly dating or something. Harry fought off a smug smile. “We know a pretty secluded area of the studying commons. It’ll only be a couple of days, really.” Draco did not protest, so Harry continued. “Bring your book and notes and meet me after dinner tomorrow at the studying commons entrance, and we’ll get it done. You’ll see what kind of a whiz Hermione really is.”
Draco sighed. “Fine. But you better keep out of my sight until then, Potter.”
“Gladly,” Harry smirked. “Tomorrow, then.”
Draco shook his head as Harry left, feeling his stomach sinking as he processed what he just agreed to. Studying help from the three Hogwarts students he despised most. This better be worth it.
-
Harry ran into the Gryffindor common room where his friends were relaxing and enjoying their downtime. “Hey, guys!” he whispered to Ron and Hermione, gesturing for them to come closer. “I’ve got some news to tell you!” Ron and Hermione shared a confused glance, and went over to their grinning friend. They looked at Harry expectantly. His bright eyes were glinting with excitement (and a hint of panic), and he paused for effect.
“…Draco Malfoy is going to be studying with us for the Herbology final!”
“Hah!” Ron guffawed loudly. “Good one, mate!”
“Very funny, Harry,” said Hermione with her arms crossed. “Now what were you really going to tell us?”
“No, really!” Harry persisted. “He needs to get an A in Herbology to stay on the Quidditch team, and I told him all about how smart you are, Hermione.”
“Oh please, you can’t be serious, Harry!” Hermione exclaimed. “He’s done nothing but be awful to us!”
“She’s right, mate!” Ron echoed. “Bloody good riddance if he’s off Quidditch!”
“No, listen, don’t you see?” Harry insisted in a conspiratorial whisper. “If we help him…he owes us.” He gestured to Ron. “We can get him to stop calling you ‘Weasel’!” He pivoted to Hermione. “And we can get him to stop calling you…you know…that.” Hermione crossed her arms even tighter.
“The point is,” Harry concluded, “If we’re nice to him and we help him out just this once, maybe he’ll be more decent towards us too. I didn’t come to Hogwarts to make enemies. And honestly, Quidditch wouldn’t really be the same without him.”
“Yeah, we’d win more,” Ron scoffed. “I don’t think this is a good idea, mate.”
“Just trust me, guys,” said Harry. “If it turns out to be a disaster you can say ‘I told you so’.”
“You can count on that,” Hermione said with a smirk. Harry grinned and left to go upstairs. As soon as he was out of sight, Ron turned to her with an anxious expression.
“What do you really think of all this, ‘Mione?”
She let out a deep sigh. “I think…that no amount of niceties or politeness or favours could ever make someone like Malfoy think any more highly of anybody like me or you.” Ron looked down at the floor. “I’m just going to go through with this for Harry.”
“What do you suppose he thinks of Harry, then?” Ron inquired.
Hermione looked into the distance thoughtfully. “I’ve always thought that Malfoy’s jealous of Harry. For having real friends, and being popular without having to treat anyone horribly. I’ve never known anyone as rude as Malfoy.” Hermione shook her head. “I don’t understand why Harry thinks this is going to work.”
Ron nodded dismally. “I’m going to talk to him about it tonight. Don’t worry.”
-
“Harry?” Ron said quietly as he untucked the covers and climbed into his bed.
“Yeah, Ron?” Harry replied, already lying down and staring up at the ceiling, his glasses sitting on the bedside table.
“Why do you want to help Malfoy?” Ron asked honestly. “He’d never do anything of the sort for us. ‘Mione and I are worried, you see. We can’t trust him.”
Harry sighed, still looking up at the ceiling. “I don’t know. I just had a feeling. What would you do, Ron, if you weren’t allowed to play Quidditch anymore?”
Ron tried to visualize himself in that position. “I reckon I’d feel pretty angry. I’d do anything to stay on the squad.”
Harry knew Ron would feel the same way he did about that. “Now just imagine Malfoy next term, all angry and bitter now that he can’t play anymore, and then he sees us walking down the hall celebrating all our wins.”
A terrible realization dawned on Ron. “Blimey, he’d be even worse to us than he was before. Hermione said he’s jealous enough of you already.”
Harry chuckled. “I really didn’t even expect him to agree to come study with us. Though he did make me promise to stay out of his sight until then. Not sure how that’s going to happen since we have the same class tomorrow morning.” This prompted a giggle from Ron.
“We’re all going to be a bunch of chums,” Ron joked as he turned over and squirmed into a comfy position to drift off into an uneasy sleep.
-
Harry stood outside the entrance to the studying commons near the library, arms crossed. That morning in their last Potions class of the term, Malfoy did not look his way even once. Not even when Neville accidentally spilled the wrong ingredient into Harry’s brew and it bubbled over and poured all over the table. During dinner, Draco sat with his head down the whole time, barely saying a word to his friends who were loudly squabbling over all manner of petty topics. Ron had elbowed Harry and asked why he was watching Malfoy like a hawk all day, while Draco had done everything possible to avoid Potter’s gaze. “I’m just not used to it, I guess,” Harry replied. “He didn’t even say anything when Neville made my brew spill over.”
Hermione shrugged. “I guess he’s just dreading spending time with us as much as we are.”
Now Harry was standing there, waiting for the lively-turned-sullen Slytherin to show up. Hermione and Ron were already seated inside (Hermione was amassing an intimidating stack of textbooks to scrutinise). Finally, a pale blond head emerged out of the shadows. Draco slinked over to Harry, book bag over his shoulder.
“Hello, Malfoy,” said Harry politely.
“Potter,” Draco curtly replied. “Let’s get this over with.” Harry fought the urge to smirk, enjoying Draco’s evident displeasure with the situation. No matter how much Malfoy didn’t like it, he needed their help and he was here.
“Follow me,” Harry said, leading Draco into the large room of studying desks and chairs tucked away between bookshelves full of large, musty academic volumes. Some students were clustered together in small groups in different pockets of the room, but despite the quiet hum of voices and flipping pages, the place did not feel particularly busy. A few lamps here and there offered some dim reading light. Draco looked around as if he hadn’t been here many times before.
As promised, Harry led his rival-turned-study-buddy into a far corner of the commons hidden away behind tall bookshelves, where Ron looked on in despair as Hermione laid yet another massive volume on top of her studying pile. The anxious red-head turned to see Harry enter, hoping for some good news, but alas. There was Draco Malfoy, their haughty tormentor. Except now he was standing there uncomfortably, fidgeting with the strap of his book bag.
“Hey, guys,” Harry sighed. “I’m sure you all know Draco Malfoy,” he joked half-heartedly.
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Sit down, Draco.” She ordered, pointing at the empty chair in front of her, beside Ron. Ron looked from Hermione to Draco to the seat, and he jumped up and clambered into the chair beside Hermione to avoid sitting next to the awkward Slytherin. Draco narrowed his eyes and reluctantly took his seat, followed by Harry sitting down beside Draco where Ron was glad not to be.
“Alright, then,” Hermione began, clearing her throat and smoothing out her frizzy hair. She hoped going into full-on study mode would successfully distract her from her uneasiness. Ron watched the beady-eyed Slytherin look around the room once more before reluctantly turning his attention to the large stack of books on the table. “Let’s start with the basics,” said Hermione, lifting a thick volume detailing the magical properties of thousands of plants off the stack and placing it on the table with a thud.
This is going to be a long night, thought all four of them.
-
“Blimey, Harry!” Ron exclaimed as Draco smiled smugly and Hermione shook her head in exasperation. “Everyone knows that Valerian sprigs are a main ingredient in a Forgetfulness Potion!” After going over their notes and looking up more information on some of the plants that Professor Sprout highlighted in class, they had just started quizzing each other on the properties and uses of different herbs.
“Actually, Ronald, I seem to remember you having a particularly hard time recalling the most crucial ingredients of a Forgetfulness Potion,” Hermione remarked. “But honestly, Harry, this is first-year stuff!”
Harry shrugged apologetically. “I know we’re already in Third year, but I’m still not all that familiar with these things. I didn’t grow up in a magical family like Ron or Malfoy, remember?”
“That’s no excuse,” Hermione retorted. “Both my parents are Muggles and I still know everything I need to know to pass my exams.”
Draco scoffed. “No matter how many books you cram into your head, that doesn’t change what you are.” (So far he had done a pretty good job of keeping snarky remarks to a minimum, but as far as he was concerned Hermione had just walked right into that one.)
“And what’s that, exactly?” Ron exclaimed, incensed.
“Remind me why we’re helping him, Harry,” Hermione said bitterly. Draco shot upright but Harry grabbed his arm and plunked him back down in his chair. Draco frowned and brushed his arm off dramatically.
“She’s right, Harry,” Ron argued. “We can’t just let him insult us the way he does. If he wants our help, he has to start acting decent.”
“I don’t need your help!” Draco spat. Harry looked over at him with a Really? expression. Draco looked down at all the extra information he’d added onto his notes. The studying had actually been going pretty well (until this point, that is).
“It doesn’t matter if Hermione’s parents are Muggles,” Ron said, more calmly now but firmly. “She’s bloody brilliant and she can help us all get an A on this bloody final.” Draco didn’t look up.
“Come on, Malfoy. You can keep studying with us until the Herbology final if you just act civil,” Harry told Draco. “We’ve already made a lot of progress. Let’s just keep at it until it’s over.”
Draco sighed in defeat. “Fine.” Without further ado, Hermione reopened one of the textbooks and flipped a few pages to where they were before. “What is Wormwood used in?” she asked in a resolute voice, keeping her eyes firmly glued to the book.
“Draught of Living Death,” Draco replied without missing a beat.
Hermione nodded. “And?”
“And…? What?” Draco was getting annoyed. Ron shook his head, knowing what was imminent.
Hermione sighed in exasperation. “If Professor Sprout asks us that question on the exam, naming one use of a plant is not good enough! We have to show her how much we know, give her all the details we can. Wormwood is an ingredient in Draught of Living Death and Elixir to Induce Euphoria and Shrinking Solution.”
Draco rolled his eyes as Harry and Ron chuckled at Hermione’s meticulousness. She flipped a few pages forward. “Try again. What can stinging nettles be used for?”
Draco recalled that particular plant being mentioned in class. “Dried nettles are used in the Boil-Cure Potion…” Hermione, Ron, and Harry raised their eyebrows expectantly. “And in nettle tea and soup?”
Hermione nodded in satisfaction, but Draco wasn’t done.
“And I heard nettles can improve the glossiness of one’s hair,” he concluded with a smirk, smoothing down his own sleek blond locks and eliciting a chuckle from Harry (and eyerolls from Ron and Hermione).
The rest of the studying session was surprisingly productive. Turns out the four of them could get a lot done when they momentarily put aside their grievances and got to work. By the time they were done Ron felt like his head was swimming with plants and potions. Overall, except for the rough patch in the middle, Harry thought that it went better than he expected.
Harry turned to Draco as they were packing up their notes. “Hey, Malfoy, we’ve still got one more night to study before the exam. Do you want to join us tomorrow?” He half-expected Malfoy to say “No way”.
But Draco just shrugged. “Sure,” he replied. He wasn’t particularly excited about studying with them again but he also had to admit that it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. Since he’d gotten this far already, he didn’t see any good reason to stop now. He just hoped he would end up getting that A and it’d all be worth it. He was too tired to worry about his reputation now. Without another word, he slung his book bag over his shoulder and went on his way.
-
“Hey, Malfoy, where you been?” asked Crabb as Draco slinked through the dark Slytherin common room on his way to the dorms.
“Nowhere,” he briskly replied. Realizing that might make him sound a bit suspicious, he quickly rebounded. “Studying. For Herbology.” His friends looked at each other, wondering why Draco was acting a bit odd but not really wanting to ask.
He walked past them without another word and went up to his room. He set his book bag down and sat on his bed, looking out the window at the dark night sky. The more Draco stared out at the sky, the more it seemed to swallow him up in its pitch-black expanse. The only way he could explain how he was feeling right now was “weird”. He was uncertain, about how the exams were going to go, about what the next (hopefully last) study session with Harry and his strange friends was going to be like, about how his father was going to greet him when he comes home for winter break. “Hello, dear son, I’ve missed you”? Not too likely.
If my father cared about me then why would he pull me out of Quidditch? He only cares about himself. And his reputation, Draco thought to himself bitterly, leaning back onto his pillow. As if a B in Third year Herbology would leave such a stain on the family crest. It’s certainly not as embarrassing as studying with Granger and Weasley. The thing that frustrated Draco the most, though, was that he wasn’t as riled up about the studying session as he felt he should’ve been. He didn’t even feel particularly proud of the jab he took at Hermione. When it was his gaggle of friends behind him egging him on, he relished every chance he got to belittle Potter and his sidekicks. But Draco was not on home territory tonight, and there was no one to laugh.
Then Draco sat up with a jolt, suddenly remembering Harry audibly chuckling at Draco’s comment about stinging nettles and silky hair. Draco didn’t know why he was so stunned by the sudden memory of his nemesis Harry Potter laughing at his harmless joke. That moment was probably the friendliest one they’d ever had. Then he recalled Harry quietly and politely, almost carefully, asking if Draco wanted to join them again. Draco remembered the day he met Potter like it was yesterday, and Harry seemed thoroughly disinterested in being friends then, so why was he acting so agreeable now? A deeply buried sentiment started to bubble up to the surface, 11-year-old Draco’s wish to be friends with the famous Harry Potter, to feel like more than his rival.
But Draco’s cynical side pushed these thoughts away. They must be up to something. I don’t care what. I just need that A, he reminded himself yet again. His mind wandered back to when he got up to leave after offending Ron and Hermione, and how Harry just wordlessly pulled him back into his seat. Harry wanted him to stay. Draco stood up and tried to shake these thoughts away. No point in dwelling on it. Things will go back to the way they used to be after the exam.
~ Part 2 coming soon! DM me if you want to be notified when the next part is up ~
