Thanks to my very first reviewers: rachiru-rebonu, Black Heart, FallenAngel, Redmeadow, Rayne-Jelly, Tabbes, CarpeNoctem17, HPIceAngel, Serena and Rulz. You people are great!

-------------------------------------------------

Chapter 2: A Slytherin's Reply

Walking down one of the countless corridors of Malfoy Manor, Draco sighed, starting to get seriously bored in recognition of the incredible lack of activities going on in his residence. The house elves were already in a pitiful state and he was not allowed to jinx them anymore, there were no human servants to tease, his father, recently returned from Azkaban, spent his time in his study and his mother simply stayed on the second floor terrace, reading those wizard magazines such as 'Witch Weekly', inviting pureblood witches and having tea, getting manicures and other similar things he was definitely not interested in. Crabbe and Goyle weren't coming over. In fact, no Slytherin was allowed to go anywhere... and unfortunately, he was no exception to that rule. Everyone, as in every dark wizard linked to Voldemort, was talking about You-Know-Who, planning reunions, unbelievable schemes and other gatherings.

The sons of these wizards were to lie low and not attract any attention to their families, and so were not authorized to visit each other, appear in public places or do anything else that could catch the interest of the Ministry of Magic. They were basically imprisoned in an invisible cage.

None of them dared to complain, most of them understanding very well why such measures were being taken. The Dark Lord was back, their fathers' master was regaining power. The one that had died when they were not in age to remember and who was now back to take over the magical world. Now, at that moment, they were forced to stay locked up but soon enough, it would be all the other young wizards who would have to do such a thing. They would then control those who had misjudged them for what they were not. They were proud and powerful, purebloods of the magical community, the invincible backbone of the wizarding world... and yet at that moment, they were not allowed to do anything.

"This sucks," Draco grumbled, letting his feet scrape the carpet as he walked. "... Totally dull summer time."

Nothing had happened since his return to the ancestral home. Yes, many visitors had come in and out of the magical structure to see his father by using a clandestine Floo Powder system, which wasn't linked to the actual Floo Network. If it had been, Aurors could have simply barged in and arrested his father again. There was also a rather important reunion of dark wizards that had happened the previous week, where he had had the chance to see some of his friends, but he had barely had the chance of exchanging words with them during the formal dinner where only adults had spoken, formulating speech after speech. After dinner, while mostly everyone was taking coffee or tea in the lounge with his parents, he had disappeared with Pansy Parkinson for a small session of snogging, which he had rather enjoyed.

His relationship with her was rather hard to determine. For one, he was not in love with her. She was very good-looking with her pretty face and black hair, popular and smart as well, but there was simply something that didn't click properly. That didn't stop him from taking her to the Yule Ball or making out with her whenever he wanted of course, because she was the prettiest Slytherin in his year and he knew he only deserved the best. He had dated other Slytherin girls as well, and she did the same with other Slytherins but they always ended up snogging in the end, whether of not they were already engaged in a relationship. But they both knew... it was just for fun. There had never been anything serious going on between them ever since they had first met on the Hogwarts Express, six years earlier.

And so no one asked questions when they came back in the lounge, the first slightly dishevelled and the other a bit red in the face. No one ever asked questions about that, actually. His father rarely reproached him anything, saying that he was of age of realizing himself his mistakes and making up for them without his senior telling him to do so.

His father was an outlandish role model. The simple way he treated his son was questioning. He couldn't be called a loving father, but he loved his son. No one could say he spoiled Draco, but he did buy him everything he wanted. Well, almost everything. He allowed him to do whatever he wanted, but kept him on a very tight leash.

Lucius Malfoy truly was a mystery. He often told his son to never let anyone treat him inferiorly, reminding him that he was a Malfoy, a descendant of one of the strongest pureblood families in the wizarding society. And yet he confused his son by prostrating himself in front of another... even if that other was Lord Voldemort.

No matter how long he tried, Draco could not imagine himself bowing down in front of anyone, not even Voldemort. He did believe his father was right to follow his master but would never take his place. He himself believed in what You-Know-Who was trying to impose, he defended his ideals, but... he could not see himself as a Death Eater, hidden under a mask, bowing down in front of a wizard who secretly was said to be part mudblood... No. With everything he had been taught, it was what he had concluded. He would build his own path to walk on when the time came. Maybe he would stand near Voldemort, but never would he squirm in dirt at his feet.

His mother, even though many thought she was indifferent to anything that happened, truly did affect Draco in her own personal way. She, like Lucius, never truly showed her son she loved him more than life itself. She watched him grow, knowing that according to the Malfoy belief, mothers should let their sons grow with a masculine example of a pureblood, their father. She had stubbornly refused to let Draco join Drumstang Academy in stead of Hogwarts, saying that Drumstang was farther from home and that she or Lucius were less prone to helping and protecting him when he was so far.

Draco was the opposite of Harry when it came to that. He had had a happy childhood, surrounded by his family. He got along with almost all of his relatives, lived a content, prosperous life. It was true, he sometimes wondered what it was like to truly love someone and feel loved in return because his parents and relatives had a particularly cold and distant way of appreciating him. It was a childish way of loving, one which never grew up or matured because loving someone could easily be seen as a flaw, a weakness, something that could not be tolerated in a pureblood family. And so he had grown used to it, used to never truly showing an emotion so plain and simple that would have been so edifying at times. It was probably why his relationship with Pansy would never work out: they had both grown up in the same familial atmosphere. And so at the end of the soiree, Pansy and the rest of his friends gone, he was left alone and bored, again, which led him to wander aimlessly in the hallways for the rest of the week.

Having nothing better to do at the moment, he involuntarily walked right to the mansion's owlery, located in a small tower on the south side of the enchanted structure. It did not resemble the school owlery in any way possible. This one was incredibly clean, having a black marble flooring and very large opened windows. There was neither hay nor droppings on the ground, seeing that house elves were ordered to keep the room as clean as magically possible at all times. There were metal perches located at different heights, but no barn owl was perched on them. There were only very fancy looking owls with incredible feathers. All were of dark tones, varying from dark grey, all shades of black and brown. A particularly imposing eagle owl one was standing near a window, looking at Draco enquiringly with his odd gold eyes. A silvery-black ring on which the Malfoy's name was engraved could be seen around one of his legs.

"Nothing for you today, Mischief," Draco said, petting its head with care.

He walked to the window and looked at the grounds outside. They were vast, seeming to be unemployed plains where the green and yellow grassland stayed at knee length magically. Dense forests bordered the clearings and the mansion. A few misty hills could be seen not too far behind and there was an icy river flowing right beneath the tower in which Draco was. It was a truly beautiful countryside.

It was then he noticed that a white owl was flying in circles in the middle of the prairie and it made him smile. Birds who didn't have the Malfoy ring around one of its legs could not see the mansion. It was bewitched in order not to be seen. In fact, not even wizards could see it, unless they had a special artefact in their possession or muttered a specific incantation.

He eyed the owl for a few moments, wondering if he should summon it to see what kind of news it brought. If it did not see the mansion, it had never been there before, which meant his or her master had not been in touch with neither of his parents, or even himself. Was it safe to accept this owl? For all he knew, it could come from the Ministry, it could contain some sort of tracking device, or opening the envelope could trigger an enchantment that would render the building visible to the normal eye. The Ministry would attack, capture his father, bring him back to jail. Or maybe Aurors were hiding out in the fields, under invisibility cloaks, waiting for the bait to be caught, or in other words, for the owl to be called by someone residing inside the Mansion.

Were his ideas far fetched? He couldn't really say. In these times, anything could be possible, especially when it came to wizards wanting to make sure his father was not back by the Dark Lord's side, undertaking his evil deeds, torturing the innocent, killing the opposing, causing havoc among society. He liked the idea that his family was feared. Of course, the fact it was no longer respected did disappoint him greatly, but he was the head of the next generation of Malfoys and he would erase his father's mistakes. He would do great things as well.

But for now, he was still thinking about the white owl. It did not seem dangerous, and the Ministry usually used ugly barn owls, not snowy white ones. Maybe someone was trying to contact him with no wicked plans hidden within that envelope.

And if it was dangerous, he would have no problem destroying it at once, informing his father who would take further measures to protect their home. He did dislike the idea of being reprimanded by his father, always wanting to prove him he was better and smarter than he thought, but at this point, he was curious about the letter, and curiosity had won over his fear of being lectured.

His smile fading away, he pulled out his wand and pointed it towards the window. Blue and green sparks erupted from the end, immediately being perceived by the lost owl. It flew in, circling the room before settling down on a perch at Draco's level. Hedwig dropped the letter she was holding in her beak and ruffled her feathers.

Draco looked at the bird questioningly, eyeing the letter in his hand.

There was something familiar about that owl, he was sure to have seen it before. It did not belong to any Slytherin, that he was sure of. It belonged to a student of another house at Hogwarts then... his eyes widened in shock as he remembered seeing his worst enemy carrying a birdcage with that exact owl in it.

"You're Potter's bird!" he exclaimed, looking at the envelope in astonishment.

Hedwig hooted softly, seeming as shocked as him. Draco turned the letter in his hands numerous times. Was this a prank? Maybe it was a Howler or a curse... yes, it could only be a hex, no?

Draco smiled in satisfaction. Yes, it could only be a hex, and so he was going to ignore it, definitely not open it, maybe even send it back.

But the Griffindor was not the type to send hexes. And the letter did not seem magical... maybe he wanted information, maybe he wanted to threaten him, maybe he was just gloating about his position or promising him his father would be caught and that his whole family was going to end up in Azkaban. But on the other hand, maybe it was just a dispatch!

-What could HE possibly want?- he thought, extremely interested in knowing.

He walked out of the owlery, slowly ripping the side of the envelope, carefully making sure it wasn't a Howler or bottled curse. Once one of the sides was neatly ripped, he waited to reach his room, in the north section of the mansion, to read the letter.

A smirk had by then formed on his lips. Finally, something out of the ordinary and worth spending time on.

He easily reached the two double sided oak doors that led to his room. They opened by themselves once he had pronounced his name and he walked into a modest room with a dark wooden flooring. A part of it was covered by a dark blue carpet that seemed soft to the touch. The walls were of a stylish coffee-coloured wood that vaguely resembled the one that covered the floor. He amused himself changing the walls to stone with the use of magic, from time to time, knowing that that way it looked like his dormitory at school. He had a four-poster bed made of black metal and covered by dark blue and green curtains. The covers were the same colours, accompanied by matching cushions. Beside the bed was a vast loophole window after which there was a large rosewood desk facing the wall and a second rather imposing window, which had been left open. On the other side of the room was a cupboard incrusted in the wall, a black lounger and a big mirror... not just good for giving back reflections. There was also a Slytherin poster attached to the back of one of the entrance doors, a Quidditch picture in front of the desk and photographs of different events on the writing table, each one in a different frame. For light, there were everlasting chandeliers hanging at regular intervals on the walls.

Draco sat down in front of his desk and finally pulled out the single piece of parchment Harry had sent him. He read it carefully and once he was done, he smiled widely. Crossing his fingers together as he savoured one of the most remarkable moments of his summer up to date.

"How interesting," he mumbled, still smiling.

He couldn't believe the Griffindor had sent him a rather friendly-seeming letter. Maybe he was regretting not having accepted his hand in first year, now that the Dark Lord was back. Draco shook his head, finding it stupid that he still thought of that embarrassing moment. Or on the other hand, he thought, maybe he was just trying to fool him into thinking that exact thing, to trick and humiliate him yet another time.

Draco furrowed his brow. That stupid git was not the kind of person to do that. Maybe he actually was, just like he said, bored out of his mind and simply on the lookout for an interesting correspondent such as himself. The Slytherin started considering that last option, as crazy as it sounded.

Was it possible? Why, out of all people, had he chosen to write to him? Was he crossed with his annoying acolytes? Was he tricking him? How could he be sure of anything?

Nothing assured him anything. He was simply stuck at a crossing of decision: to write or not to write.

He hesitated, not wanting to jeopardize his family's situation, but desperately wanting something interesting to happen during his vacation... everything was so dull around the mansion, he had no one to talk to. And would Potter really bring trouble? If he asked indiscrete questions, Draco could always decide not to answer them, or simply stop the correspondence. And his father did not have to know...

Looking out the window, he stared at the empty sky for a moment, thinking. Finally, he took out his wand once again and conjured a piece of fine parchment, a black quill and an inkbottle. With another smile, he started writing his reply, making sure to use the right words to formulate what he thought.

Dear Rival,

I was quite astounded to see a letter from you arrive to me this morning. You were the last person I would have expected to take time to write, to me in particular, and yet, I can't say I'm unhappy about it. It kills me to admit it, but I do agree with you that interesting correspondents are uncommon these days and that distraction is hard to find, even for me, and so it is why I have decided to send you a simple letter and not a Howler or a jinxed note, even if it tempted me terribly.

The Daily Prophet is in deed horribly wrong about our location. We aren't even in hiding. Malfoys do not hide. But don't expect me to tell you where I am, I wouldn't lower my intellect to your level and make use of stupidity.

And so you aren't spending your time with the weasel and the mudblood fur ball? This is quite unexpected of you. Then again, I don't see the difference between spending time with them or muggles.

And don't these muggles with whom you live treat you like their servant or something? It's totally disgraceful. Wizards aren't made to serve muggles. Why don't you just run away? You're being watched and followed, aren't you? sad. Very sad.

Insincerely,

Draco Malfoy

P.S.: I have taken the liberty of placing a ring on your owl's leg, in order for it to find its way back to the mansion, if you wish to write again.

Draco reread his letter and found it just perfect. Just enough disdain and mockery, while keeping the letter responsive. Very Slytherin-like. He folded the paper and placed it in an envelope, on which he wrote Potter's name. He then took a little block of red sealing wax that he burnt with the tip of his wand. Having melted the end, he pressed it on the envelope's flipside, to close it. Before the wax completely dried up, he took a ring from the table's drawer, on which was his family's crest and pressed it on the wax, leaving the desired mark.

Satisfied, he rose from his seat and walked to his mirror after straightening his brown slacks and green shirt.

His eyes met his own reflection and he paused, hesitating as he saw the letter in his hands. His greyish blue eyes narrowed as he thought of what he was doing. He was responding in a forthcoming manner to a letter sent by that detestable Griffindor. Was there a catch?

What could that annoying little prat who gets too much attention get from this? If this was actually a trick, Mr. 'I-defeated-the-dark-lord-but-oh-look-now-he's-still-alive-and-I-can't-do-anything' and his little friends could barely get a laugh out of this because he (or they) started it all in the first place. Anyways, they would be rather pathetic to do that to try to humiliate him and it wouldn't work because he would make sure to bring that stupid Potter down with him.

He stood there for a few moments, looking at the mirror. No, nothing he had written could be used against him. Everything was fine, the owl could not be traced, his father didn't have to know... and this could be amusing, actually.

Again, he kept on looking at himself, pondering.

"Green definitely looks great on me," he muttered finally, smiling.

He slipped his hand in his right pocket and pulled out his wand, touching the glass with its tip. The screen immediately melted, while staying in place like a veil of silver liquid that no longer reflected the blond young man so clearly.

"The owlery," Draco said plainly, stepping into the glass.

He immediately appeared where he had wanted to go and found Hedwig still perched at the same place. He walked to her, brought out his wand and whispered an incantation. A ring appeared around one of her legs as Hedwig started hooting madly. It was a mix of black silver and dark green, but instead of the name 'Malfoy' being engraved, 'Potter' was written at its place.

Draco handed her his letter. She glared at him, took it in her beak, shaking her leg from time to time, as if trying to get rid of the ring.

"Now go," Draco said coldly.

The bird hopped to the window and disappeared immediately. Draco watched it go, sighed, and walked back to his room. He couldn't wait to see the outcome of his actions.

-------------------------------------------------

Do you like it:P