Draco turned on his side away from Harry and spent some time quietly talking with Goyle. About what, Harry didn't know. Unlike some people, he didn't constantly eavesdrop.
When Remus came back with a fourth tray, Goyle looked up, a big smile on his face. "Oh, breakfast. Great! I had to skip the Great Hall to come up here--"
Draco laconically picked up his wand from the night table and waved the tray over to his friend, then looked at Remus expectantly. "I'm starving here."
Remus' voice was a shade irritated when he answered. "Then perhaps you shouldn't give away your food."
Goyle spoke through a mouth full of half-chewed bangers. "Oh, was this yours? Sorry, Draco. Want it back?"
"No, thank you," said Draco pertly, turning a smile his way. It faded when he resumed talking to Remus. "Well? Hop to."
"I'm not your house-elf, Mr Snape."
"Well, if you were," said Draco, "I wouldn't trust any food you brought me. Eh? You ought to take it as a compliment that I'd eat anything a werewolf handed me--"
"Werewolf?" gasped Goyle, the glass of milk in his hand shaking so much that droplets flew everywhere.
Draco put a hand out, steadying Goyle's wrist. "Don't you remember Professor Lupin? Third-year Defence?"
Goyle peered intently at Lupin, scrunching up his face in an apparent attempt to dredge up things long forgotten. "Oh, you," he said at last, scowling. His voice dropped to an undertone as he said to Draco, "I already ate a banger and half a crumpet. Are you sure it's safe?"
"Yes, I'm sure." Draco sighed a little as he let go of Goyle's wrist and turned to Remus again. "Would it kill you to bring just one more little tray?"
"Would it kill you to ask politely?"
"Look, you lycanthrope, I'm bloody hungry and I know your . . . condition isn't catching at the moment--" Draco broke off and then resumed in calmer tones. "On the other hand, there's nothing wrong with being a little Slytherin. So, fine. Ple--."
"Is Mr Snape still waiting for his meal?" called Pomfrey from the desk in the far corner where she was scrawling something. Her voice was shrewish. "He needs to keep his strength up, Mr Lupin!"
"I'm just fetching it now," said Remus, sighing.
Draco beamed a smarmy smile and waved for him to get on with it, then.
"What happened to your perfect manners?" hissed Harry as soon as Remus had gone off to once more communicate with the elves. He'd have said something sooner, but thought it might humiliate Remus. "You don't have to like him, but you do have to be civil, Draco. Haven't we talked about this before? He's one of the good guys. Just like you, eh?"
"Ha. He may be one of the good guys, but he is not just like me."
Still, Draco was less obnoxious when Remus returned. He nodded politely as he took the tray.
Remus left then, to speak with the headmaster, he said. Harry sighed, thinking of this idea that Remus should keep right on spying. But since Ron and Hermione didn't know about that at all, Harry certainly couldn't voice his objections in front of them.
Not to mention that Goyle was in the ward too, now.
Maybe Remus will tell the headmaster it's a daft plan, he thought. And if not, I'll find a way to talk to him later.
As breakfast progressed, Harry chatted with his friends while Draco talked with Goyle, all their conversations sprinkled with the noises of munching and swallowing. Goyle was the first to leave, mumbling something about how one tray just wouldn't do it and maybe he could still catch a spot of breakfast in the Great Hall.
Once he was gone, Draco sighed loudly. "Granger," he said, interrupting Harry and Ron's argument about which wizard's chess set was the best. "Hermione, I meant," he said after a moment of silence.
"Yes?"
Draco cleared his throat, obviously nervous. "Er . . . do you think you could take time away from your busy studies to help Greg a little with Defence during the next few days? The textbook is hard for him, so he needs somebody to read it to him out loud. And a talking quill just won't do it. You have to talk him through it, if that makes sense."
Hermione's eyes went wide. "I don't have to do anything at all, Draco. If Goyle needs help so badly, why don't you do it?"
Draco's features hardened. "I have been. Ask Harry if you don't believe me. But I promised to help Greg more this weekend and that's just not on now, is it?"
Harry blinked, a little bit alarmed. "We're not going to be in hospital all weekend, are we?"
"Oh, right. You were asleep." Draco pushed his tray off his lap and with a flick of his wand, set it floating across the room. "Severus said that as soon as we were released, he was going to take us away from the castle for a bit of a holiday. I'm sure you can guess where."
"Oh, to--" Harry couldn't say it, not with Fidelius shutting him up in Pomfrey's presence.
"Yeah, there. So I won't be here to help Greg and he needs it in the worst way." Draco looked up at Hermione again, a smile plastered on his face. A fake smile, but at least not one that was horribly sarcastic. He just looked like it was hard to ask a Muggleborn for anything, and Hermione Granger above all.
"I'm sure there are Slytherins who know Defence at the level we're learning," she insisted, her arms crossed stubbornly over her chest.
Draco's smile faded. "Well, yes. But they're all rather . . . supercilious, you know?"
"Yes, I know," Hermione put in dryly.
Draco swallowed, like this was getting harder and harder and he'd just as soon give up. Instead, he soldiered on. "They'll lord it over him--"
"Like you don't?"
"He's comfortable with it from me, though." Draco began to huff. "Look, if you won't do it, just say so. I thought you'd just love a chance to show off your pumpkin-sized brain to someone new, but noooo--"
Harry stepped in before a full-scale squabble could erupt. "Draco, haven't you ever heard that you can catch more flies with honey than vinegar?"
Draco's eyebrows drew together in what looked like genuine confusion. "No, and why would I want flies? I mean, unless I was brewing?"
Hermione stifled a laugh.
"And you," said Harry in a hard voice as he turned to her, "haven't you ever heard of an olive branch? Because that was one, Draco asking you for help, even if it's help for Goyle. I really would like it if all of us were less at odds."
"Oh, very well." Hermione took three steps toward Draco's bed. "I guess I'm actually impressed you seem to care about someone other than yourself--"
"Seem to?" Draco clenched his teeth. "Listen, you waddlepated twat, I care about Harry! Plenty!"
Immediately upon saying it, he coloured scarlet and yanked his face to the side.
Draco's obvious sincerity seemed to get through to Hermione. "I apologise," she said a bit stiffly. "You can tell Goyle I'll tutor him, yes. Library, tonight, seven p.m."
"Make it seven-thirty." Draco made a random motion with his hand, his colour still high. "Greg needs lots of time to eat."
"I can see that," said Hermione, in a tone just as dry as before.
Draco smiled. "Good, then. And since I wouldn't want to be incivil, I'll even say 'thank you.'" He glanced over at Harry. "See? Told you I had perfect manners."
Hermione giggled slightly. In the next instant, Ron was on his feet at her side. "We'll both help Goyle," he said staunchly. "Be glad to. Yeah?"
Harry tensed, sure that Draco would come back with some sort of sarcastic rejoinder about Ron's brains. But his brother just smiled faintly. "Fine. You protect your lady-love from the big bad Slytherin. But Greg knows better than to treat Hermione badly, anyway. I told him she was all right."