AN: I especially like the song that I used for the opening quote. Hilarious, I tell you. Go get the complete lyrics... and while you're at it, the MP3 as well. It's sort of like a sentimental love song that's horribly wrong.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter, I not own.
Dedicated to:
Chapter 14: You Don't Love Me Anymore
We've been together for so very long
But now things are changing, oh I wonder what's wrong?
Seems you don't want me around
The passion is gone and the flame's died down
I guess I lost a little bit of self-esteem
That time that you made it with the whole hockey team
You used to think I was nice
Now you tell all your friends that I'm the Antichrist
Oh, why did you disconnect the brakes in my car?
That kind of thing is hard to ignore
Got a funny feeling you don't love me anymore
- You Don't Love Me Anymore, Weird Al
Harry sat in the dark of the his bedroom, watching as the last few sparkles of Locating energy faded away from the envelope on his desk.
Tentatively, he picked it up, and slit it open.
Out fell a three-page long letter and a small charcoal sketch done on parchment.
Harry raised his eyebrow in surprise. He picked it up and turned it over.
He held in his hands a beautifully done portrait of Hermione, her eyes bright and smiling, her hair in soft waves that fell past her shoulders.
Harry's eyes softened. How I've missed her. He admired it for a while, noting the excellent use of the soft charcoal, the fine lines and the steady hand. I wonder who did this...
He turned the parchment over and frowned.
Written in neat script across the back of the paper was Draco's signature... and Harry could almost see Draco's satisfied smirk and hear his insinuating voice.
Once again, Potter... I have something you don't.
~*~
"I like that." he said thoughtfully, as Hermione poured tea into two teacups. Hermione glanced at him. "What?"
Draco drew nearer and laid a considerate finger on a teacup. "The teacups and the teakettle are mismatched." Hermione raised an eyebrow as she sipped her tea. "Those are my teacups, and your teakettle. Don't blame me..."
Draco held up a pacifying hand, and a teasing smile played on his lips. "I said I liked it. They look good together, even though they don't match." His eyes found hers, and they locked briefly, sweetly. "Even if they weren't made for each other."
Hermione set down her teacup. "Like us."
Draco moved closer. And closer. "Exactly."
And closer... and closer...
~*~
Harry was silent. Ron was silent because Harry was silent. Parvati was silently checking her reflection in the silver teaspoon because she knew that Ron was silent because Harry was silent.
Finally, someone spoke.
"Aw, she'll be back, Harry." Ron muttered gruffly.
Harry was silent.
And someone spoke again.
"Good God! I've overdosed on Eyelash Curler Potion again. I'll go fix myself a remedy before I blind myself."
And Parvati stood up from the table and walked into her room, unable to stand the silence any longer.
~*~
Dear Hermione,
I don't know what you've been doing over there with that blonde prig of a Malfoy, but whatever it is, it's definitely not healthy. Healthy for Harry, that is. And if it involves nudity, and scented swimming pools... Hermione, that's not healthy for you either.
That's all I'm going to tell you for now. (And Ron sends his greetings.)
Here, the handwriting changed drastically.
Hermione, get back here now! I don't care if Malfoy gets ripped apart by bloodthirsty Death Eaters, as long as you come back so Harry can start breathing again...
The writing trailed off the page, as if someone had yanked the writer's hand and quill away from the parchment. From this point on, it was Parvati's smooth, rounded writing.
I would have written the same thing, although in a more civilized way.
Harry's literally wasting away, dear. Thought you might want to know.
Love and kisses,
Parvati
(and Ron.)
~*~
The faint buzzing of a Locator Charm filled the sleepy afternoon air in Draco's bedroom. He stirred slightly, and sensing the magic, rolled out of bed. Naked except for a sheet around his waist, he padded down the empty hallway to Hermione's room, where the envelope was beginning to take shape on the desk.
He picked it up and walked back to his room in bare feet. He sat at the edge of the bed, holding the letter.
"Hermione."
"Mm-hm?"
A shape shifted under the blankets, a shape that was vaguely of Hermione.
"You've got a letter."
Hermione sat up, looking mildly interested, and very sleepy. "From?"
Draco glanced at the name. "Parvati? The Patil girl? The one with the twin in Ravenclaw? The one who got laid in sixth year?" Hermione blinked.
"How did you know that?!" she asked incredulously, reaching for the letter. Draco smiled roguishly at her. "Now that you think of it... how did I know that?" he raised a slender eyebrow at her.
Hermione laughed. "You... you... flirt!" She grabbed the letter away from him, and holding the sheets around herself, slit it open and began to read.
Five minutes later, Draco picked up the letter from the floor as Hermione angrily flopped back into bed. He scanned it quickly, then looked back towards Hermione's head, which was barely visible under the lumpy pillow.
"Well... do you want me to reply?"
"Hmph."
Draco smiled, shrugged, and picked up his quill.
"Well, if you don't mind tea being a bit late..."
~*~
Parvati excitedly picked up the letter, still warm with crackling magic. Behind her, Ron peered over her shoulder, with Harry sitting dejectedly on the bed.
She slit it open, and frowning at the unfamiliar handwriting, read the one line that was neatly written on the finest parchment money could buy.
Parvati,
Re vera, cara mea, mea nil refert.
Draco Magnum Malfoy
Parvati sighed in disgust. "I wonder why she even lets that git handle her mail." Ron muttered.
Harry stared out the window. "I think she's letting him handle more of her than just her mail."
Parvati wove a little Translating Spell over the Latin words.
Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.
Harry sighed. "Yes. He doesn't."
