(Funny thing, I do consider this a series but I only write another part when someone requests it. You’ve solved my story puzzle!!!)
Draco frowned at his wand. The defensive shield they were practicing was one of the most difficult and most powerful. Draco managed to cast it about one out of five times and he had no idea what he was doing wrong. He couldn’t possibly be more annoyed.
“Oi, Malfoy, you having trouble with this shielding spell?” Weasley asked.
Draco was wrong, he could be more annoyed. “I’m fine, Weasley,” he said, straightening his back and pretending he was perfectly confident. He didn’t want help, especially from a giant carrot of a human being.
Weasley cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted across the room, “Harry! Over here!”
Draco felt his cheeks start to flush and glared furiously at Weasley, hissing under his breath, “What are you doing?!”
Weasley gave him a jolly grin that was absolutely the most infuriating thing he had ever seen.
“What is it?” Potter asked as he edged around Seamus and Dean.
Weasley threw an easy arm over Potter’s shoulders and steered him over to Draco, “Our good friend, Ferret-face here, could use a little help, can’t quite get the hang of this spell.” He smiled like a jackal, smacked Potter on the shoulder hard enough to make him stumble and then hurried back to Granger.
Draco very much wanted to strangle Weasley with his own tie.
“You’re having trouble?” Potter asked.
Draco frowned, “No, of course not.” He nervously adjusted his grip and carefully cast the shielding spell. Nothing happened.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Potter tilt his head slightly to the side.
Draco gritted his teeth and quickly tried again. The shield poured from his wand in a haze of blue light at circled him in a sphere. He smirked triumphantly, “There, see? I can cast it perfectly fine.”
Potter was still looking at him in that curious puppy sort of way that made Draco want to blush.
“Can you do it again?” Potter asked.
He did not know if he could do it again. He really, really wanted to. He was fairly certain he’d die of embarrassment if he couldn’t. Draco practically held his breath as he tried the spell again. His wand made a rather horrifying fizzling sound and spat out a few blue sparks. Draco felt his face go hot.
“I see,” Potter said in a rather amicable teachery sort of way that indicated the hadn’t realized in the slightest how utterly mortified Draco was at that moment.
Then before Draco could say something, blame it on a headache or a stumbled syllable, Potter moved behind him, wrapped his hand around Draco’s wand hand.
He gently held onto the back of Draco’s hand, moving his wand in the small sharp movements the spell required, “I noticed that this spell work best if its cast as quickly as possible, so all the movements have to be very compact but still precise. Like this-”
Draco could feel Potter’s chest pressed to the back of his shoulder, their arms pressed perfectly together all the way down to his perfect gentle hold on Draco’s hand. He couldn’t focus on a single word coming out of Potter’s mouth, he couldn’t see his wand move, just the seam where their two hands met. Draco’s face felt so hot he couldn’t stand it.
He pulled away from Potter and practically ran out the door, mumbling something about being sick.
Hermione bit her lip, watching the furrow on Harry’s brow as he turned on his heel to watch Draco leave. “It was a good try,” she murmured out of the corner of her mouth, touching Ron’s forearm briefly, “I think we need a different tactic.”
Ron frowned, “What do you think then?”
“I have an idea, just let me talk to Harry, okay?” she said.
Ron nodded, “Alright.”