Author: Mirai (Mirai2 now, apparently... wah...)
Warnings: still spoiler-free, but contains slash, ludicrous misunderstandings, and a cliffhanger.
Author's Note: Thank you thank you thank you for reviewing!
I no longer have the internet on my computer because, apparently, internet + my computer = locked up computer. It's not worth paying for it anymore. I'm bitter, but in two weeks I'll get my next work check, sooooo... Anyway, I'm updating at the library.
One thing I should probably explain, because someone asked: there have only been those few letters thus far. Everything has taken place in a span of three days, making this the fourth day. Enough of my babbling, on with the story!
Harry was trying to think of a way to get out of herbology. After yesterday, he didn't want to see Malfoy ever again. Even more so than usual. He tromped down the stairs, noticing that his shoe was untied. He considered purposely tripping on it. It really was a long way down the stairs, though. He sighed, resigning himself to facing Malfoy. He wished he hadn't been so nice to him. Malfoy could die for all he cared, and hopefully he'd do it before herbology.
Harry found himself in the Great Hall, which was unusually quiet for the time of day. Not one to dismiss an opportunity, he walked over to the knight casually; he hadn't expected to be able to get the reply note until tonight, after everyone had gone to bed. He looked around one more time and opened the knight's helmet. The screech of the metal was unnatural in the silent hall. Harry closed the helmet. There was still nothing in it.
Harry looked around. The hall was still empty, but he felt as if someone else was with him. He scratched the back of his neck, trying to dispel the tingling feeling that started there.
Before he had time to dwell on it, Malfoy appeared around the corner, creeping stealthily towards him. When he finally noticed Harry, he nearly jumped. Harry did his best to act nonchalant, which was quite difficult, as he was staring at his feet in the middle of an empty room.
Malfoy walked up to him, fists clenched at his sides. Harry prepared himself for disaster. "Don't... even... think about it, Potter," he spat. He stalked off the way he had come.
Harry almost sighed in relief. That could have gone worse. Although, he had no clue what Malfoy was ranting about. Obviously his mind was going first.
Harry entered herbology feeling a little better than he had earlier. He waved to Ron and Hermione, who seemed to be carefully avoiding looking at each other. Harry had a sneaking suspicion that this was somehow related to the upcoming Valentine's Day dance.
"Where have you been?" Ron asked. Thankfully, before Harry had to reply Professor Sprout clapped her hands and the chatter died down.
"Let's see," said Professor Sprout, "who doesn't have a partner?"
Harry looked at Ron and Hermione, and shrugged, raising his hand. Then, across the room, glaring death at Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy slowly raised his hand. Harry's eyes widened, and he looked at Ron. Ron looked like his parents had just told him he was a mistake. "Sorry mate," he muttered seriously to Harry. "Play dead...?" he suggested weakly.
"Perfect," said Sprout, gently guiding Harry over to Malfoy.
Perfect was not the word. Herbology assignments generally weren't difficult, but partner assignments often required perfect cooperation. Harry doubted that partner assignments where neither person would speak, look, or breath in the general direction of the other were frequently successful. Several of their pots were squirmy, and when one wiggled out of his grip, rather than grabbing it, Malfoy merely watched the pot fall to the floor. When Malfoy had the same problem, Harry looked ponderously up at the ceiling. He fancied he could feel Malfoy's glare on the back of his neck. They went on like this for most of the class period, until the good-natured Professor Sprout was thoroughly exasperated with them. She picked up the unharmed bulbs and carried them off.
Harry and Draco were left to clean up the mess after all the rest of the students had gone. Harry decided to ignore Malfoy and attempt to get out of the herbology room as quickly as possible. The only problem with ignoring Malfoy was that he couldn't see where he was. He bent down to pick up a clod of dirt just as Malfoy reached for a broken pot, and their heads banged together. Harry and Draco both sat up and glared at each other. Apparently, it was the last straw for both of them.
"Ow!"
"Oh, what's the matter, Potter? Just a few more brain cells, no one's going to notice!" Malfoy's voice rose; he was having trouble controlling his temper.
"You should talk! Your former house elf has the intelligence of your entire family combined!"
"I can't believe a twit like you thinks he can blackmail me, a Malfoy! It'll never happen."
"Yeah, well I'm glad you're dying!
The momentary silence that followed was about as subtle as a piano falling from the sky.
"What?"
"Huh?"
"I'm not dying!"
"I'm not blackmailing you!"
"Though, when I have to be your partner, death really is preferable..."
"But that is an excellent idea, now that you mention it..."
"I'd rather you bit it, really..."
"If only I had some dirt..."
There was another brief silence. Harry could have sworn he heard the soft croon of soap opera music playing somewhere.
"Why did you think I was blackmailing you?" Harry asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
Malfoy coughed. "Same reason you thought I was dying, I'm sure."
"Er... I thought... forget about it."
They cleaned up the herbology greenhouse without another word.
Harry climbed towards the Gryffindor house, pausing halfway up the stairs. He looked around. He had that strange feeling again, like someone was watching him. He shivered.
"Malfoy?" he said, his voice echoing in the empty hall. He remembered getting this feeling once, when he was on the quidditch field with Malfoy and the second time, when he was in the Great Hall, and Malfoy had come in. Now that he thought about it, he was spending more time with Malfoy than seemed morally right. It wasn't something to dwell on now, though, and anyway, Malfoy was nowhere to be seen.
He took another step up the stairs. Maybe, maybe he should just ignore it. But it wasn't the first time he had been right about a feeling.
"I know you're there," he said. The dim stairs were silent, and the flickering torches showed nothing that shouldn't be there. Harry started, hearing a creak from up the stairs. He whirled around, but it was only the portrait of the fat lady swinging open, revealing a familiar red head.
"Harry?" Ron stepped into the hall, light spilling onto the floor from the common room. "I thought I heard you out here but... Never mind. Hey, sorry about Herbology."
Harry took one last glance down the dark stairs. "It's not your fault. One of us would have been stuck with him, and better me than you or Hermione. You would have killed him and Hermione..." Harry walked up the stairs.
Ron nodded seriously. "Hermione might have started another club."
The portrait closed behind the two boys, and the hall was silent again. But against the wall, an unnatural shadow that didn't sway with the dancing flames crept down the wall, oozing and buckling, then becoming material, a human form under a black cloak. Beneath the dark hood the only visible feature was a Cheshire grin full of pointed teeth.
"You know I am heeeere, Harry Potter, but you cannot ssssstop meeee."
AN: Soap opera music is right. Next episode: Draco's long lost evil twin returns, revealing that he is dying and carrying Harry's baby while secretly embezzling funds from Malfoy Inc. in order to pay for his drug addiction.
No worries, this isn't going to turn into Hogwarts Chainsaw Massacre or anything, just stay tuned for next week's (or month's... or year's...) exciting installation of Love Letter!
Warnings: still spoiler-free, but contains slash, ludicrous misunderstandings, and a cliffhanger.
Author's Note: Thank you thank you thank you for reviewing!
I no longer have the internet on my computer because, apparently, internet + my computer = locked up computer. It's not worth paying for it anymore. I'm bitter, but in two weeks I'll get my next work check, sooooo... Anyway, I'm updating at the library.
One thing I should probably explain, because someone asked: there have only been those few letters thus far. Everything has taken place in a span of three days, making this the fourth day. Enough of my babbling, on with the story!
Harry was trying to think of a way to get out of herbology. After yesterday, he didn't want to see Malfoy ever again. Even more so than usual. He tromped down the stairs, noticing that his shoe was untied. He considered purposely tripping on it. It really was a long way down the stairs, though. He sighed, resigning himself to facing Malfoy. He wished he hadn't been so nice to him. Malfoy could die for all he cared, and hopefully he'd do it before herbology.
Harry found himself in the Great Hall, which was unusually quiet for the time of day. Not one to dismiss an opportunity, he walked over to the knight casually; he hadn't expected to be able to get the reply note until tonight, after everyone had gone to bed. He looked around one more time and opened the knight's helmet. The screech of the metal was unnatural in the silent hall. Harry closed the helmet. There was still nothing in it.
Harry looked around. The hall was still empty, but he felt as if someone else was with him. He scratched the back of his neck, trying to dispel the tingling feeling that started there.
Before he had time to dwell on it, Malfoy appeared around the corner, creeping stealthily towards him. When he finally noticed Harry, he nearly jumped. Harry did his best to act nonchalant, which was quite difficult, as he was staring at his feet in the middle of an empty room.
Malfoy walked up to him, fists clenched at his sides. Harry prepared himself for disaster. "Don't... even... think about it, Potter," he spat. He stalked off the way he had come.
Harry almost sighed in relief. That could have gone worse. Although, he had no clue what Malfoy was ranting about. Obviously his mind was going first.
Harry entered herbology feeling a little better than he had earlier. He waved to Ron and Hermione, who seemed to be carefully avoiding looking at each other. Harry had a sneaking suspicion that this was somehow related to the upcoming Valentine's Day dance.
"Where have you been?" Ron asked. Thankfully, before Harry had to reply Professor Sprout clapped her hands and the chatter died down.
"Let's see," said Professor Sprout, "who doesn't have a partner?"
Harry looked at Ron and Hermione, and shrugged, raising his hand. Then, across the room, glaring death at Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy slowly raised his hand. Harry's eyes widened, and he looked at Ron. Ron looked like his parents had just told him he was a mistake. "Sorry mate," he muttered seriously to Harry. "Play dead...?" he suggested weakly.
"Perfect," said Sprout, gently guiding Harry over to Malfoy.
Perfect was not the word. Herbology assignments generally weren't difficult, but partner assignments often required perfect cooperation. Harry doubted that partner assignments where neither person would speak, look, or breath in the general direction of the other were frequently successful. Several of their pots were squirmy, and when one wiggled out of his grip, rather than grabbing it, Malfoy merely watched the pot fall to the floor. When Malfoy had the same problem, Harry looked ponderously up at the ceiling. He fancied he could feel Malfoy's glare on the back of his neck. They went on like this for most of the class period, until the good-natured Professor Sprout was thoroughly exasperated with them. She picked up the unharmed bulbs and carried them off.
Harry and Draco were left to clean up the mess after all the rest of the students had gone. Harry decided to ignore Malfoy and attempt to get out of the herbology room as quickly as possible. The only problem with ignoring Malfoy was that he couldn't see where he was. He bent down to pick up a clod of dirt just as Malfoy reached for a broken pot, and their heads banged together. Harry and Draco both sat up and glared at each other. Apparently, it was the last straw for both of them.
"Ow!"
"Oh, what's the matter, Potter? Just a few more brain cells, no one's going to notice!" Malfoy's voice rose; he was having trouble controlling his temper.
"You should talk! Your former house elf has the intelligence of your entire family combined!"
"I can't believe a twit like you thinks he can blackmail me, a Malfoy! It'll never happen."
"Yeah, well I'm glad you're dying!
The momentary silence that followed was about as subtle as a piano falling from the sky.
"What?"
"Huh?"
"I'm not dying!"
"I'm not blackmailing you!"
"Though, when I have to be your partner, death really is preferable..."
"But that is an excellent idea, now that you mention it..."
"I'd rather you bit it, really..."
"If only I had some dirt..."
There was another brief silence. Harry could have sworn he heard the soft croon of soap opera music playing somewhere.
"Why did you think I was blackmailing you?" Harry asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
Malfoy coughed. "Same reason you thought I was dying, I'm sure."
"Er... I thought... forget about it."
They cleaned up the herbology greenhouse without another word.
Harry climbed towards the Gryffindor house, pausing halfway up the stairs. He looked around. He had that strange feeling again, like someone was watching him. He shivered.
"Malfoy?" he said, his voice echoing in the empty hall. He remembered getting this feeling once, when he was on the quidditch field with Malfoy and the second time, when he was in the Great Hall, and Malfoy had come in. Now that he thought about it, he was spending more time with Malfoy than seemed morally right. It wasn't something to dwell on now, though, and anyway, Malfoy was nowhere to be seen.
He took another step up the stairs. Maybe, maybe he should just ignore it. But it wasn't the first time he had been right about a feeling.
"I know you're there," he said. The dim stairs were silent, and the flickering torches showed nothing that shouldn't be there. Harry started, hearing a creak from up the stairs. He whirled around, but it was only the portrait of the fat lady swinging open, revealing a familiar red head.
"Harry?" Ron stepped into the hall, light spilling onto the floor from the common room. "I thought I heard you out here but... Never mind. Hey, sorry about Herbology."
Harry took one last glance down the dark stairs. "It's not your fault. One of us would have been stuck with him, and better me than you or Hermione. You would have killed him and Hermione..." Harry walked up the stairs.
Ron nodded seriously. "Hermione might have started another club."
The portrait closed behind the two boys, and the hall was silent again. But against the wall, an unnatural shadow that didn't sway with the dancing flames crept down the wall, oozing and buckling, then becoming material, a human form under a black cloak. Beneath the dark hood the only visible feature was a Cheshire grin full of pointed teeth.
"You know I am heeeere, Harry Potter, but you cannot ssssstop meeee."
AN: Soap opera music is right. Next episode: Draco's long lost evil twin returns, revealing that he is dying and carrying Harry's baby while secretly embezzling funds from Malfoy Inc. in order to pay for his drug addiction.
No worries, this isn't going to turn into Hogwarts Chainsaw Massacre or anything, just stay tuned for next week's (or month's... or year's...) exciting installation of Love Letter!