It was one of the rare times when Draco was without Tom or Hermione for company, his Herbology class separating the group. He’d been tending to his own patch of screeching shrubs and thorny flowers when the pair had come upon him (was it any surprise that the Weasel and Saint Potter had destroyed their own gardens?) intending to take his plants as their own. Wands had been drawn and Draco had lost, something that he had little intention of writing his father about.