Fic: Untiltled (H/D), PG-13 (2/2)
Part 1
They hadn’t talked much longer after that. The mood had been ruined and not much more was said besides that they would meet again the following night as previously scheduled and hopefully they’d be closer to a solution then.
In spite of it being time for dinner when they emerged out of the room, each of the boys had been heading toward their common room, eager to get a bit of a distance between them.
Harry still felt like such an idiot as he stepped through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room a few minutes later. Of course Draco, uh, Malfoy wasn’t pleased when he all but told him that his parents were not better than the ones of Nott. That was what he had been thinking after all, so he couldn’t blame Malfoy for reading it into his behaviour.
But well, just because he was no fan of the older Malfoys didn’t mean that he wanted to hurt their son, on the contrary. If you got over that tendency of his to annoy the hell out of you, he was quite nice to have around. He was perceptive, curious, helpful, funny and well, easy on the eye. Except that the latter wasn’t a character trait and Harry wasn’t thinking that way about Malfoy of all people.
“Harry, come over here,” he was ambushed as soon as Ron had caught a glimpse of him.
A small crowd was gathered in one corner of the room and Harry identified them as the members of the Quidditch team as he stepped closer.
“We’re discussing when would be the best day for the tryouts. What do you think?” Ginny asked.
“Uh, well, whenever you want to…” Harry replied, groaning inwardly. He was so not ready for the conversation that would inevitably follow soon
“We should try to have a balance between all ages on the team,” Ron said. “A team consists of seven players and that number’s difficult to break up into two equal parts, but we agreed to have three members out of years two to four and four members out of years five to eight. I think having one player out of each year is too restrictive.”
Harry nodded. That sounded logical but he was also aware of the other reason Ron was reluctant to pick one person per year. Well, now was the time to come clean, Harry decided and braced himself for Ron’s temper tantrum.
“I’m not going to play on the team, so you can be the one playing for eighth year,” he announced calmly.
A lot of jaws dropped on the floor.
“Excuse me?” Ron asked, staring at Harry in disbelief.
“You heard me. I’m not going to play.”
“Why the fuck not?” Ron’s complexion gradually turned darker until it reached the shade of his hair.
“Because I think it’s time that someone else gets to play instead of me.”
“Bullshit! You didn’t get to play last year because of the war, the same goes for our sixth year. You only played part of fifth year before you and the twins got banned by Umbridge thanks to the ferret and now you’re telling me you want to pass up on the last chance to play in Hogwarts? Are you demented?”
“Firstly, leave Malfoy out of it. We got into a fight with him, Umbridge overreacted. That’s hardly his fault. Secondly--”
“Hardly his fault… My arse!” Ron exclaimed. “If he hadn’t--”
“Leave it!” Harry interrupted him, growling. “Where was I? Right, okay… I only came back here to finish my education, not to play Quidditch and deprive other people of their chance to be on the team.” He took a deep breath before he went on but Ron cut in once more.
“You’re allowed to have some fun, damn it. And what are you trying to say, anyway? Do you think I shouldn’t play, either? Huh??” he all but screamed.
“No, of course not!” Harry replied harshly. “I’m talking about me, not you! You didn’t get to play until year five and if you want to be Gryffindor’s keeper for another year, go for it. But don’t assume that I’m feeling the same about Quidditch like you do.”
“You used to…” Ron muttered sadly.
“Harry, think about it. You’re the best seeker at school, it would be a shame if we had to do without your talent,” Ginny threw in. Harry shook his head, already having made up his mind.
“No, I’m sorry. And we don’t know if I’m still the best. There are many younger students who didn’t get to tryout yet,” he added, trying to placate Ron.
“Oh, forget it,” Ron hissed and walked away with Ginny hurrying after him.
Harry stared at his feet. He had expected it to be that way but that didn’t mean that he hadn’t hoped for another reaction. He could understand that everyone was different and while he had decided for himself that playing sports wasn’t that important to him at the moment, Ron felt differently. He probably needed the feeling of success Quidditch used to provide him with in order to deal with the recent changes in his life. He wanted one part of his life defined by rules he knew by heart. He wanted to be secure in the knowledge that he knew what he was doing. For Ron playing Quidditch offered some stability. For Harry, playing would stand for another chore and even more pressure. He was under constant surveillance as it was. He didn’t need people’s expectations of him winning the cup all by himself piled on his shoulders as well.
“Are you sure that this is what you want?” a female voice asked quietly and Harry looked up. Hermione.
“Yes, I’m sure. I thought about this for some time and came to the conclusion that I really don’t want to play Quidditch competitively anymore. I wouldn’t be opposed to a friendly match, but I don’t want to have to go to practise and practically dedicate my life to it anymore. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course, but I really think I earned myself the right to define my time for once.”
“Of course you are. If you don’t want to play you don’t play,” Hermione said. “But it will take a while until Ron’s able to see it that way…”
Harry sighed.
--
He and Draco met the following night but neither one had anything new to share. The only thing Harry could tell him was that yes, he had noticed the increasing amount of owls at breakfast as well, but that was something Draco knew already and so he just nodded.
They quickly touched on the situation of Thomas Nott and Draco informed him that most of his housemates had opted to leave him alone; a few of his fellow first years were firmly on his side. Those who had dared to go against Snape’s explicit wish to keep out of it were due for a few nights of detention with Filch. After the first detentions had been administered, everyone kept their opinions to themselves.
Dumbledore’s speech over dinner had a similar effect on the other houses. Harry could only speak for the Gryffindors, but he was certain the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws would do their best to avoid the promised punishments as well.
“There’s something else…” Draco said, shuffling his feet.
“Yes?” Harry tried to sound encouraging.
“I was talking to Snape, and he seemed to be really concerned about the letters. He said Dumbledore would try to put a stop to them soon, but I don’t know.”
“He likes you a lot; maybe he’s worried about what will happen if your secret comes out?” Harry suggested and wondered when Draco instantly turned crimson.
“He’s my godfather; he’s bound to like me somewhat. But I don’t have any secrets…” Draco lied and to Harry’s worry he turned an even darker shade of red.
“I’m sorry. Was that the wrong thing to say?” he asked hesitantly but Draco didn’t reply.
By mutual agreement they steered clear of what happened the previous night and when they found nothing more to talk about, they said goodnight and went their separate ways.
Harry didn’t feel like returning to the common room just yet, he didn’t want to risk another run-in with Ron, and so he went to the library instead. He would have preferred a nice walk along the lake but it was cold and wet outside and he had no intention of spending the next day in the hospital wing.
“Hello, Harry,” Luna greeted him when he walked by the table she was sitting at.
Harry stopped. “Sorry, I didn’t see you. - What are you studying for?”
“Oh, I’ve got to write some assignment, but it’s not due until next week,” she said, patting the seat beside her invitingly. Sitting down before he attracted anyone’s attention, Harry nodded.
“I’ve got to finish a few things myself.”
“But you didn’t bring your books or parchment?”
“No, I didn’t. I don’t feel like homework tonight.” Now it was Luna’s turn to nod in understanding.
“Is there something you’d like to talk about?” she asked him kindly. “Maybe about the increasing amount of mail people seem to get lately?”
That girl never ceased to amaze him. No one knew how she did it, but not much went past Luna. And yet she looked like she was constantly caught up in a daydream. But maybe that was the trick?
“Please tell me you didn’t get one, too,” Harry begged.
“No, but a few of my housemates did. Not at the beginning, but over the last two days or so. We think it’s got something to do with what the headmaster said yesterday and now they’re concerned what will happen if they refuse to obey the letter’s orders. They don’t want to be the next ones having their secrets revealed.”
Harry rubbed his eyes. How much could he tell her? But basically she already knew everything there was to know, so he figured it didn’t really matter.
“I know a few people who received one as well,” he admitted.
“Hermione?” Luna guessed. “And your new friend, maybe?”
Harry swallowed.
“Um, yeah, but how do you know?”
“I’ve seen the three of you reading that thing over and over and well, one has to be blind not to notice how often you disappear toward the dungeons to meet with him.”
Had she seen him with Draco, uh, Malfoy? Or why did she say ‘him’?
“Him?”
“It’s not a ‘him’?” she asked confused.
“I… Yes, it is, but I was wondering how you would know…” Harry muttered.
“Oh, well…”
“Just say it,” Harry said though he was unsure if he was ready for what she had to tell him.
“I noticed that you’ve changed a bit. You seem happier and I thought maybe you’ve found someone? And since girls can’t seem to hold your interest, I figured it had to be a boy this time,” Luna explained, keeping her voice low so no one but Harry would be able to hear her.
His first thought was that thankfully she didn’t seem to know the identity of his new friend. Then he stumbled over the term ‘friend’. And then he realized what she had been talking about and was so shocked he almost fell off his chair.
“Uh…” was all he managed to say while he was struggling to find a position where he wasn’t in danger of falling off any second.
“Harry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I thought you knew,” Luna said as she grabbed his elbow and helped pulling him upright.
“Knowing myself? Now that’s a startling new concept…” Harry laughed humourlessly. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to be alone for a bit. I need to think a few things over.”
He felt Luna’s eyes follow him as he got up and walked toward the door. He forced himself not to run because that would be embarrassing. But could it be even more embarrassing than being told by your friend that you’re obviously gay and, unbeknownst to her but still, apparently in love with your long-time enemy? Harry groaned. Didn’t he have enough worries already?
--
The following days went by without another disaster happening and just as Harry contemplated allowing himself to relax, another set of rumours started to make their way through the school.
Like the last time the victim was a Slytherin, but unlike last time, when the news reached the head table, Dumbledore got up immediately and made another speech.
He reminded everyone that everything he had said the last time still applied and asked everyone to come find him or another teacher of their choice if they feared they might be in danger of being the next victim. When he continued by asking everyone to tell him if they knew what was going on, Snape leaned over McGonagall and caught his attention. Dumbledore listened to what the younger had to say and then they both got up and left the Great Hall in the middle of lunch.
Malfoy was once again the one to look after a younger, quite distraught student, only this time Parkinson got up as well. They, too, left the room and Harry wondered what the story behind this girl was. But if he was really honest with himself, he didn’t want to know. Yes, he was curious, but on the other hand… No, he didn’t want to join in the gossip. He couldn’t have fun at her expense. Not only was it against his beliefs but it also reminded him of what could happen to Hermione - and Malfoy.
He had no idea what they were hiding but he would rather it stayed this way.
Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that McGonagall was leaving the table as well and he wondered if Snape was telling the headmaster about the letters. He couldn’t hold it against him in the light of today’s incident.
“Harry!” Hermione hissed, reaching across the table to shake his arm.
“Hmm?”
“Did you see? Malfoy’s acting like a big brother to all the little snakes,” she remarked. Harry found it impossible to read her demeanour.
“That’s all you’re thinking of right now? Shouldn’t you be worried that you’re the next on the list?” Harry asked, baffled.
“There’s not much else I’m thinking of despite that crap,” she gave back. “I kind of like it if something happens that puts my mind off my own problems for a while.”
Harry glanced from her to Ron who was sitting beside his girlfriend, trying to appear as if he wasn’t listening to a word that was spoken between them and failing miserably. That was when Harry noticed that Hermione was trying to help him. She was no Luna, but she was incredibly intelligent and she knew him better than almost everyone else, including himself most of the time. She must have figured it out.
“He’s also been like this with Nott,” Harry said, smiling when he recalled the picture of Malfoy and Nott on Snape’s sofa.
“I thought so. That’s why I mentioned it.” Hermione smiled at him.
“What is that supposed to be? A ‘we love Malfoy’ fest?” Ron asked. He didn’t look as angry as Harry had expected him to considering the circumstances but at the same time he wondered if he might be overestimating Ron’s grasp.
“No, making conversation. I was just telling Harry what I’ve observed,” she said and Ron scowled at her. “Oh, don’t be like that. You’ve got to admit that it’s nice how he’s taking care of the children.”
“What’s in it for him?”
“Merlin, Ron! Nothing. I assume he knows what it’s like to be in over your head and so he’s trying to help.”
“You really think so?” Harry asked hopefully. He happened to think that way but lately he found it hard to trust his judgement.
“Yes. I really think so,” she reassured him. Ron looked a bit green while trying his best to appear supportive. At any other time Harry might have been angry at Hermione for telling Ron of her suspicion and keeping him in line, but right now he was strangely grateful. At least those two didn’t think he had gone insane. Well, one of them. The other one was merely afraid of what his girlfriend might do to him if he uttered one wrong word.
--HD--
Yesterday had officially been the worst day of the month, if not of the whole term for Draco. But maybe he should be careful with making such premature statements since he had a few more weeks to survive until he could even go home for Christmas.
He didn’t know where to go, who to talk to. He also had no idea where to look when he left his room again. If he left his room ever again. He certainly didn’t plan to anytime in the near future.
Everybody was talking about him, laughing their arses off at his expense. Draco Malfoy, Slytherin and son of a Death Eater, was head over heels in love with the Golden Boy, Harry Potter. If there was a way for the floor to open up and swallow him whole he’d gladly take that opportunity to disappear. Right now would be good.
None of his fellow Slytherins was laughing in his face, of course. They all knew better. Snape would kill them and Dumbledore wouldn’t be pleased if the news of someone taunting Draco reached him. But he knew they were talking. He’d seen the glances they threw at him when he entered the common room this morning.
He was so dead.
And pissed. Who was it? Who had known about his feelings for Potter? Oh, fuck it; he could just as well call him Harry now, right? Only in his head, of course! But seriously, how could anyone know? Only his journal knew but parchment wasn’t able to talk as far as he was aware. He had burned it during lunch break, just in case.
Draco hadn’t dared to look at Potter, uh, Harry during their joined classes. He hadn’t been ready to face the disdain written on his face. Why had that to happen now? Why not a few weeks earlier? Before they had formed this tentative friendship? Now that he had spent a considerable amount in his presence and experienced first-hand how nice he was and how good-looking he was up close, he would certainly die if he was to lose him again. Not that he had him.
He hit his pillow in frustration before he threw it against the wall for good measure. It didn’t make him feel better.
--
He missed dinner that day - after skipping his afternoon classes, of course, but now it was time for breakfast and he’d die from hunger if he passed it up as well. Not an option, he decided and bravely made his way outside.
To his utmost surprise he wasn’t met by his housemates’ stares as he had feared. The common room was empty except for one person. Snape was waiting for him in an armchair by the fire. He rose when Draco entered the room.
“Good morning. I was wondering if you’d leave your room today. Well, you would have come out in any case, either on your on initiative or with a little incentive courtesy of your favourite teacher.” The smile he wore was far from kind. “You missed a few classes yesterday. Any excuses?”
“You’ve heard about it, I assume?” Draco asked, almost timidly. He hadn’t thought Snape would like if he missed half a day of school but he had expected him to be a bit more understanding. Thank Merlin he hadn’t missed Potions again. He’d have hated to think what Snape’s reaction would be like in that case.
“It was hard to miss,” Snape drawled. “But honestly, knowing you I believe you’ve got other secrets, ones whose revelation would have hurt you more.”
Draco flinched. Gods, yes, he could think of a few things.
“So, keeping that in mind, do you still believe missing class was justified?”
“Yes,” he said stubbornly. “You’ve got no idea what it’s like to be the laughing stock of the whole school.”
“Of course, Draco. Obviously I don’t know what I’m talking about.” Not daring to look anywhere else than at Snape, he could have sworn he had actually rolled his eyes. What was that supposed to mean?
“Uh…”
“Enough of this now,” Snape demanded. “You’re going to eat breakfast and then you’re going to see the teachers whose classes you missed yesterday and see what you can do to make up for it. Am I understood?”
Nodding unhappily, Draco shuffled past Snape toward the door. What more was there to say? He had already been told that he was exaggerating and his feelings on the matter meant nothing. He didn’t want to talk about it anymore.
“Mr Malfoy,” Snape said, making him stop. He didn’t turn around though. “Stop pouting. Not only is it unbecoming, you don’t have any reason to do so. I understand you’re hurting, don’t think I don’t. But I won’t allow you to hide because of that. You didn’t do anything wrong. Please understand that. It’s unfortunate that your schoolmates know about your feelings for…Potter, but it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Then why did you pause before saying his name, Draco wanted to ask. Of course he didn’t voice that question. He knew he’d be sorry if he did. Snape wouldn’t appreciate it and above all, Draco didn’t think he was ready for the answer.
“Let’s go,” Snape said and patted Draco on the shoulder.
Draco took a deep breath and followed the tall figure of his professor out of the door. Well, he had been here in his capacity as Draco’s godfather or he would have ripped into him for not showing him the required respect.
--
Draco kept his head held high during the rest of the day and thankfully it seemed to work as no one said anything to him concerning Harry. He had gone and apologized for missing classes and got Pansy to give him her notes. To make up for his absence he had been told to write an additional foot to his Ancient Runes assignment that was due at the end of the week and Flitwick had just waved him off, claiming that if his work didn’t suffer because of that one missed lesson, there would be no further consequences.
Satisfied with himself, Draco buried himself in his books after dinner, hoping to get a head start with his work when Blaise appeared in front of his table at the library.
“There’s been another rumour…”
“Gods, no! Who is it this time?” Draco questioned, exasperated. He so didn’t need this.
“Granger.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t you want to know what it is about? You’re going to like it,” Blaise promised.
Draco doubted that very much but felt compelled to say, “Do tell.”
And Blaise did. Apparently Ganger had used some rather unorthodox methods in order to gain knowledge she and her companions had needed toward the end of the war. What made it even more precarious was that the Weasel had had no idea what she had done and was now shocked - rightfully so, in Draco’s opinion.
When Blaise finished his story, Draco looked at his housemate. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to call him a friend at that very moment.
“Do you think that’s funny?”
“You don’t?” Blaise asked back, puzzled.
“Not exactly, no.”
“But why? We don’t like Potter and his minions…” Blaise trailed off. “Is this about the other day? You really have a thing for the Boy-Who-Lived?”
Draco winced.
“Potter. Oh, fuck it! Harry, okay? You like him?”
Nodding reluctantly, Draco tried to explain,” But that is not about Harry. I don’t like this at all and I don’t think we have the right to laugh when she’s having one of the worst days of her life.”
“What happened to you?” Blaise asked suspiciously.
“I grew up? You should try it too sometime.”
“Was that a question?”
“I don’t think so, no. Let’s try again. I grew up,” Draco repeated with more conviction. “See that you do the same.”
Blaise smirked.
“It’s worth a try,” he said eventually.
--
While he hadn’t appreciated the extra attention it got him, Draco had to admit it resulted in something good. Now that he wasn’t able to deny his feeling any longer he had a chance to get used to them…and to get comfortable with this new reality.
He still hadn’t talked to Harry since that day but that was about to change now. Draco was looking for him and the first step was to gather his courage and stop the Weasel on his way toward the Gryffindor tower, asking for help. Draco gulped.
“Eh, hi.”
“Hello to you, too, and now kindly remove yourself out of my way,” the Weasel demanded. Draco ignored his arrogant tone to the best of his ability and went on as planned.
“I was wondering if you could tell me where I would be able to find Harry.”
“Other people would just ask where he is,” the Weasel muttered. “Probably in the common room, studying.”
Draco gritted his teeth. What was wrong with being polite? One would think the Weasel would appreciate him making an effort, but apparently not.
“Right. Would you mind letting him know that I’d like to talk to him?”
“Now you want to talk? You do know that he’s been trying to do the very same for weeks now?”
“Yes, well, I…had to think about a few things first. So, if he was willing to talk with me still, he can come see me. I’m going to wait for him in our room.” The Weasel’s eyes widened comically.
“Your room?”
Draco, being fed up with the conversation, turned back toward the dungeons, throwing over his shoulder, “Just tell him, please.”
--HD--
“Harry!” Ron called when he entered the common room. Harry looked up from his Potions book. He was happy that things between them were looking much better by now. They avoided talking about Quidditch but otherwise they were good.
“Hey.”
Ron sauntered over to them and leaned down to kiss Hermione. Yes, another relationship that had survived a recent hiccup. No one was happier than the two people involved but Harry was a close second.
“Malfoy’s been asking for you. But please tell me what the hell he’s referring to when he’s talking about ‘your room’?”
“Is he there now?” Harry asked, already on his feet, his assignment forgotten.
“That depends on where this room is located. But he’s in his room at the very least,” Ron replied, chuckling.
“Are you making fun of me?”
“Nope, of course not,” Ron lied and Hermione tapped his arm in a silent warning.
“Go on, he’s waiting,” Ron encouraged and Harry went.
He was almost running all the way and only stopped when he was close to the room to calm down his breathing. He didn’t want Draco to know how eager he had been to see him and so he took a few deep breaths before he slipped into the room.
“Hi…”
Draco’s head shot up.
“Uh, hey. I’m glad you could make it,” he said.
Harry was delighted to see that the other young man was just as happy to see him as he was.
“You wanted to see me?”
“I… Yes. I wanted to apologize,” Draco began.
“Whatever for?” Harry asked, surprised. He had no idea what Draco thought he should apologize for.
“For, you know…my little secret. It, uh, involved you and you only learned about it when everyone else did,” Draco stammered.
“That’s okay. It wasn’t for anyone to know. And honestly, it should have remained a secret. But I didn’t mind what I learned.”
There. He had said it out loud and he hadn’t dropped dead yet.
Draco blinked.
“You don’t?” A smile formed on his face.
“No, not particularly.” Harry grinned back.
“So it was for the best?” Harry nodded.
“If you look at it like that: yes.”
“Snape will have a field day with that,” Draco said.
“Huh? What’s Snape got to do with it?” Harry was confused. Then he paused. What was he doing? He had just admitted that he was sort of interested in Draco and what’s more, he had said so to Draco himself. Snape shouldn’t be on his mind right now.
Fortunately Draco seemed to share his opinion. He waved Harry’s question off, promising to tell him about it some other time before he moved closer. Harry’s throat constricted as he watch Draco moving an inch at a time. He was terribly nervous but he wouldn’t want it any other way. Who cared that they were in a clammy, cold dungeon classroom? For Harry it was the most romantic place on earth.
“Hey…” Draco murmured against his lips and then they kissed for the first time. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco, pulling him closer. He felt Draco’s arms come around him and opened his mouth, encouraging him to deepen the kiss.
But Draco drew back a little, leaning his forehead against Harry’s.
“Is that okay?” He managed to make it sound endearing but still there was a hint of insecurity audible.
“You’re thinking too much,” Harry said before he tilted his head and moved in for another kiss.
--
Harry had stopped counting after the second kiss. Now it was hours later and he was back in his dormitory. Ron hadn’t said anything when he had come back but had opted to grin at him knowingly before he turned back to his game of Exploding Snap with Neville and Seamus. Harry had declined their offer to join them and so he was now lying on his bed in the empty room.
He didn’t mind the temporary solitude. He had so much to think about. Nice memories, Harry thought. They had managed to squeeze a few minutes of talking in between bouts of kissing and he could now refer to Draco by calling him his boyfriend. It was amazing and it would take him a while until he believed it, but yes, it was amazing. But he had said that already.
“Hi mate, how was your date?” Ron asked, plopping down on his bed.
“Huh?” Date? How did Ron know? And wasn’t he supposed to be out there playing cards with their roommates?
“No date?” Ron asked sheepishly. “Sorry…”
Harry kept his expression neutral for as long as he could before he burst out laughing. “Will you be suffering from nightmares if I let you in on the details?”
“Gods, yes!” Ron groaned, causing Harry to laugh even louder. If he had seen Draco walk Harry to the Gryffindor tower earlier, he might have lost his dinner. Ron was far from ready to see them walk hand in hand, stopping every few steps to exchange some innocent kisses - and some of them not so innocent, if he was honest.
“No worries, but maybe now you know why I don’t need to know everything about you and Hermione either,” Harry remarked, trying his best to be serious. His friend nodded frantically
“Uh huh!”
--
“Who do you think was the assistant?” Draco asked Harry a few days later when they once again met in their room. Harry had suggested switching their meeting place to the Room of Requirement, claiming it was way more comfortable and would provide them with everything they needed, but Draco wanted to stick with this room. He appeared to be surprised at his own decision. But when they met the following night the room was clean and already looked much brighter. Draco denied that he had had anything to do with it, but Harry knew better and he loved him even more for it.
“I have no idea. I mean, it sounds crazy, doesn’t it? The ghosts and portraits collaborating and messing with Hogwarts’ inhabitants to get even for the damage the war caused them.” Harry shook his head.
“I know. But Dumbledore’s right. Someone must have sent the first letter and neither portraits nor ghosts are capable of that. That leaves a student or a teacher…or someone outside of the school. A former student perhaps? Or someone who wasn’t allowed back? I think a lot of people could have done it.” Draco shrugged. “I don’t really care though. I’m happy it stopped.”
“That’s great, yes. But as long as we don’t know who’s the person behind it all we can’t be certain that it won’t happen again,” Harry said dejectedly.
“Dumbledore stopped it once, he’ll do it again.”
“And that’s coming from you?”
“Well, he did. Didn’t he?” Draco asked, grinning at Harry.
“Yes. At least there haven’t been any new letters due the last few days,” Harry conceded. Draco had changed so much. The way he was always trying to cheer him up was not something he would have done a few months ago. Or maybe he would have, Harry couldn’t be sure. They had yet to talk about when they had started to notice the other one. But that could wait for another time. This evening they had other things to talk about.
“See?”
“But Draco, what will happen to those who already got one?” Harry asked concerned.
“Nothing, I suppose,” Draco replied. “Didn’t he say that only those who got their letters directly from Person X had to fear an exposure? And most of them opted to buy their way out of it, so to speak. We don’t even know if there’s someone left who didn’t send their letters.”
“They really wanted to scare us, huh?” Harry said pensively. He couldn’t shake off the thought that he was forgetting something. Or someone. It was there in the back of his mind, just beyond his reach.
“That was the intention. And considering how half the school panicked for a while, I’d say they were successful,” Draco commented dryly.
“Hmm,” Harry agreed. They would just have to wait and see. But he had a feeling that they hadn’t seen the end of this yet.
After a short moment of silence Draco pointed at the makeshift bed he had transfigured and set up in one corner of the room. “I took great pains with this, you know,” he whined.
“Oh, so sorry. We should make certain we use it then.”
“That was the plan.” Draco winked at him and pulled him toward the bed, spelling the lights off on the way.
--
THE END