"In case any of you lot have forgotten..." Draco's voice had dropped back down to its usual uninterested drawl--the same exact drawl that his father, Lucius, typically spoke in. Sad thought it may be...he was the spitting image of his father. The blonde shifted his weight from one leg to the other. His long, slender fingers toyed with a particularly shiny, gleaming badge pinned on his robes. "I do happen to be a Slytherin Prefect this year." He spoke those words perhaps a little too proudly. "And, like a good Prefect, I certainly wouldn't mind handing out a few well-deserved detentions to a bunch of wayward students such as yourselves, loitering about in the dungeons after class. Disturbing Professor Snape's peace and quiet."

Predictably, a few students were eager to shuffle along and get out of the way once Snape was brought into the picture. Though Draco and the female Slytherin Prefect, Pansy Parkinson, were both known to heavily abuse their shiny new powers as Prefects...they weren't nearly as horrific a threat as Snape was. Even more quickly went on their way as Snape actually deigned to emerge from his classroom, his dark, abysmal eyes sweeping over the remaining students. His irritated expression suggested that he was very close to docking points and handing out detentions by the handful. Of course...as he drew closer, he did catch that his favorite student was actually making an attempt to temporarily put his differences with Harry Potter aside for the sake of the project...

How interesting. Perhaps they wouldn't fail after all. He wasn't about to dock points from the few stray students lingered behind to briefly discuss details about their projects, but anyone lingering for the sake of lingering (that is, the vast majority of this crowd) was walking a fine line, and points would be taken within the minute if they did not wise up and leave. And he did tell them so, looking pleased when they started clearing out. Though some of the Gryffindors certainly didn't mind having to be seen with a Slytherin in a public place if it was for the sake of getting a wonderful grade (Hermione, for example), no true Slytherin in their right mind would want such a thing (Draco, a prime example). Draco was particularly hostile toward Gryffindors, much more so than most of the other Slytherins. And that was certainly saying something--just look at Pansy Parkinson!

Apparently, only Snape saw through Draco's admittedly feeble attempt at both resolving the situation and further insulting the already-agitated Weasley boy. Trying to avoid a fight while still actively provoking one? Unusual for the blonde Malfoy. He did notice that while Draco directed his annoyance toward the redhead, the entirety of his focus was undeniably on Potter.

...Hm...perhaps...no, would such a ludicrous idea even work? Seemingly distracted, Snape turned, his long black cloak sweeping across the floor as he strode down the hallway. Perhaps he would consult Dumbledore privately about this matter...surely, if he thought the idea was beneficial to both Harry and Draco (for a long time, both Snape and Dumbledore grimly agreed that the esteemed Malfoy heir might be a lost cause), it was an idea worth pursuing...?

Predictably, Draco recoiled when a foreign hand clasped itself around his arm. Strangely, however, the tips of his ears began flooding with quite an unusual color--the exact hue of young pink roses in full bloom. "Get your filthy fingers off of me, Potter!" Despite the slight and almost unnoticeable flushing, nothing more than shock, malice, and slight disgust saturated the blonde's voice. This time, at the very least, his disdain had nothing to do with Harry personally. Draco never did like to be touched. He always reacted violently when someone intentionally or unintentionally laid a hand upon him. Why, just last week Draco sicced Crabbe and Goyle on a poor, unsuspecting second year student for accidentally toppling him over in a desperate attempt to reach his class on time. He never allowed anyone to touch him in public, the exceptions being the occasional spot of hand-holding between himself and Pansy...and the few rare occasions when his parents deigned to touch him.

Despite his words, he made no attempt to yank his own arm away--he, too, was eager to get away from the crowding throng of students, and he hurriedly stomped down the hallway.

Ron grumbled when Hermione whispered those words in his ears, but refused to settle down until Harry and Draco were out of sight. When they were finally gone, he hung his head, somehow managing to look enraged and defeated all at the same time. "I can't believe Harry has to work with that--" He spared a quick look down the hallway, just to make sure that Snape was actually gone before he started spouting out obscenities. "...That git! For a month! We've got to get him out of it somehow! They'll end up strangling each other, and you know it!"

Draco huffed as they walked along. Eventually, he did wrench his arm out of Harry's firm grip, surpassing the raven-haired boy to take the lead. "I know you've got a free period now, Potter. But I'd rather not be seen with the likes of you in a public place." His nose wrinkled up slightly. It wasn't because he himself would be mortified if anyone knew he'd spent even the slightest amount of time in amicable company with Dumbledore's little Golden Boy. No, it was the astoundingly speedy manner in which gossip spread throughout the school that he was concerned about. If his father even suspected he was trying to play nice with The Boy Who Lived--..he shuddered to think of what would become of him then.

"There's an abandoned classroom nearby. We can discuss this further in private once we're there." He peered over his shoulder, fixing those silvery gray eyes on orbs of emerald green, that trademark sneer twisting his handsome facial features. "Well, Weasley had to go and open that big fat mouth of his. Otherwise, I wouldn't have bothered wasting my time and energy on him." Even Harry would have to admit that was true. Ron did have a big mouth, and he didn't really know when to shut it up.

Draco took two right turns, one straight pathway, and a single left turn before coming to a halt. He whipped out his wand to launch a quick "Alohomora!" at the door, which dutifully opened afterward. The room was nearly empty, save for a couple of rickety desks and a few spindly chairs. The blonde stepped in immediately, slipping his wand back into his robes. "Well?" He arched a single eyebrow. "In, Potter. I haven't got all day."

__________________