With Shadows (Arc I)
By: Handmaiden of Aphrodite, formerly Yoruko
Slash warning! Draco/Harry, post-OotP, spoilers for all of it therein; also, everyone's as in-character as humanly possible. I own nothing except the plot bunny.
The Third Correspondence: Inexorable SandsRevised Edition
July 15
Sirius –
I keep thinking about you, what you would think of this or that. You always had an opinion, and even though you weren't always right, it was comforting somehow. To know that I could turn to you and ask you something, and you'd always give me a sincere, legitimate answer, no matter the question. I have so many questions to ask you. Where are you now?
Would you be disappointed in me now, to learn what a wreck I am? The sorting hat wanted to put me in Slytherin. Did you know? If I had been in Slytherin, if I hadn't protested, would you still have given me a chance? Maybe not.
It's taken a while to realize this, but prejudice is something the whole wizarding world is guilty of, maybe especially me. But it's so difficult when everyone who depends on me is telling me one thing, and my conscience says something different. I've been so afraid of being rejected, hated, alone, that I've ignored myself, and that's selfish. Difficult to admit, even now, that I'm guilty of that, but isn't that what being selfish means? So I'm going to do what I think is right from now on, regardless of how hard it is to do, stand up for the people I despise when they aren't being given a fair chance. I don't care what others think of me anymore. If they can't like me and accept me as I am and what I have to do, then I'll find new friends, new people that will support me. It'll be really hard, but I think I'll be better off for it.
And isn't everything worthwhile difficult to achieve, anyway?
Harry
As per usual with things that shocked him, Draco stared at the letter in his hands for long moments. He processed what was told, and then read it again. And again. Incredulously, he said aloud, "Slytherin?" But then his mind started to catch up, to unwillingly draw parallels he'd been reluctant to see. Yes, it did make sense; if one took away the unadultered recklessness of Harry Potter, you were left with someone rebellious and quite conniving. This, of course, only garnered a smidgen of respect from Draco, and certainly not any liking. He was a Slytherin himself, and however intriguing this development was, it made him more suspicious as well. Besides, hadn't Potter said he'd protested? No one in their right minds protested being sorted into his House. Healthy skepticism permeated his opinion of the rest of the text, but that was only to be expected.
However much sympathy he had acquired for Potter since these absurd letters had started to come, liking – and believing - him was a long way off.
Or, at least, that's what Draco told himself.
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July 16
Sirius –The thing I miss most about you is your smile, I think. I look into a crowd of teenagers walking down the road, and I wonder what you looked like at that age. Whether you and my father, and Remus, and even Peter, were ever that carefree. Whether anyone is ever innocent. What is innocence, if everyone is born only to die? Some people say that from the moment you're born you are slowly dying, but that theory, while quite true, is also pessimistic. And I don't want to think like that. It makes me depressed, it makes me feel things. Feeling things is hard. I wish I could just shut off my brain sometimes, ignore my thoughts and emotions for a while. That'd be nice. But I guess that's where sociopaths come from, and we already have enough of those in the world. We don't need another Voldemort.
The similarities between he and I are simply astounding. Only now do I realize what Dumbledore, and quite a few other people, must have been so afraid of. Bad childhood, excelled in DADA at school, sorted – or almost – into Slytherin, wands with the same core, etc. And just what's up with that wand thing? I'm so fed up with this destiny stuff. I don't want to save the world, I don't want to save anything. Why does everyone expect these things of me, just because some crackpot old teacher spouted a prophecy? So what about how mystical it was? I don't want to acknowledge that it's probably, most likely, true. I don't want to do any of those things she said I would. Is that shirking my duties, my responsibilities? Probably. But can't I be just a bit selfish? When lives, many lives, are on the line, though, I guess not. That's too high a price for me to pay for my own self-indulgence.
And I won't pay it again.
Harry
Unwillingly, he found himself being contemplative instead of judgmental. So... Potter was the proverbial unwilling savior? Well. That was new.
Draco tried very hard not to think of what conclusions this made, not to realize how unfair, how prejudiced, how biased he'd been. He succeeded.
Somewhat.
Self-denial was something Draco had down to a fine art, but he was hardly proud of it. And coming out of the darkness was always hard; seeing the metaphorical light, blinding. Especially when one was being dragged out of the cave they'd retreated into out of cowardice.
Not that he admitted that about himself. No, he wasn't quite that open yet. But it was coming.
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July 18
Sirius -
I've been thinking a lot lately about Wormtail. Peter Pettigrew, betrayal, and the true state of things is more accurate, I suppose, but it's a controversial topic from any angle. Even now it's hard to accept that someone so trusted could fall so far from other's expectations of him, but that's what happens to everyone, or at least quite a few people. I wonder whether there is a traitor in our own midst, and then I can't help but think that of course there is. But that leads to questions of who is it, and I don't want to place anyone under that kind of suspicion, no matter how accurate my suppositions may be. I don't like thinking that of anyone, but the truth is the truth, hard as it may be.
Aside from that, there is the frequent musings about what life must have been like pre-war, or should I say pre-Voldemort? You lived through it. I know from Hermione, and Ron, actually, that he wasn't inactive while you were in school, but he wasn't the terror he is now. People even scoffed at one point about calling him 'Lord Voldemort,' like he was being presumptuous. What happened to that? Where did that audacity go? Buried under fear, and sorrow, I suspect. At one point I'm sure I would have been disdainful of such weak-minded 'fools,' but now I can only sympathize, because it's always the same way with me. Only I've let my hate overshadow my fear; I've let my anger emerge above my loss. What we need is more people that are like that. Every person is a needed support, and I see that now. Every person is valuable. Even Neville, who may seem pretty insignificant in the real light of things, but what if he were the one to save some person's life one day, and that person made some great invention, or stopped a big threat, because they were still alive?
I've been getting strangely philosophical lately. It's almost like these letters are my journal. I could never keep one, though. It's so much easier to imagine that you're on the other end, receiving these, understanding me perfectly, formulating replies that you will never send. That I will never read. But would you truly be so sympathetic to me? This has plagued me, and it will not leave. Would you still wish to know me, if you saw the truth of me? I don't know. And that scares me more than anything.
Harry
"I don't need this," said Draco to himself suddenly, "I could put up a spell to block them. Why should I deal with Potter's stupid weaknesses?" But the sneer that should have twisted his lips didn't appear, and he felt his thoughts begin to fumble awkwardly. What if Potter really was taking his newfound acceptance to heart? Was is possible that their friendship, which had been destroyed before it'd even begun, to have a second chance?
Of course not. He was a fool, a blubbering fool, for even thinking it. What would his father say if he heard such consideration? On the coattails of that thought came another: that he could do something thoughtlessly cruel, utterly crushing of Harry – of Potter's confidence. If he could pull it off. And he surely could. He was Draco Malfoy, after all.
And so Draco spent the next few hours working on a fake letter from Sirius Black, one as accurate as he could make it, as sure to make Potter depressed as he could. But in the end, he didn't send it.
He didn't know Sirius Black that well, after all. What if Potter traced it back to him? Then the letters would stop coming. He might recognize his owl. He couldn't know Black's handwriting.
So why did he feel the desire to send Harry a letter signed with his own name?
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"Father, what do you know about Sirius Black?" asked Draco abruptly at one dinner.
Lucius ceased eating and gazed at him with speculative, hooded eyes. "I should not think you would be very interested in the topic, Draco."
He knew when to read danger into his father's words, and he, wisely, did so then. "No, you're right, of course. I don't know what I was thinking." How could he expect his father to volunteer information? These correspondences with Potter were going right to his head, making him think that help would be as readily available to him as it was to Harry.
"See that you learn more prudence," replied Lucius coolly, chin raised and faintly scornful look etched into his features.
"I will, Father," he assured him. What else could he say?
But Draco found himself wondering how a similar conversation would go with Harry. If he asked Potter a question, a probing one, would he answer him truthfully, or use authority to shunt aside the query itself, as his father had done? In any case, it was all pointless speculation. He'd never have the opportunity to ask such a question in the first place, and Draco told himself firmly that he didn't want one.
A lie, of course.
It unnerved him to recognize it.
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Sorry about the typos and everything; I'm hardly omniscient, and I'm sure one day when I'm not inspired but am still bored I'll get around to revising everything. That day is not coming soon, however. Lol. And about the elipses and formalized wording – sorry, again, that's just how I am. It's reflexive. I happen to be vaguely fond of my writing style, since my plotting skills are absolutely abysmal, so it takes a lot of effort to make it simpler than normal. I know Harry doesn't have that wide of a useable vocabulary; just run with me, though, okay? I'm sure Draco sounds like that, though. And the elipses: I'm very expressive, so I actually do write that in both letters and IM. Again, just a habit of mine, but I'll crack down on it for this fic. Thanks for notifying me! And I'm planning on making their relationship as releastic as possible, but that doesn't mean that Draco won't develop a crush on Harry very early on in the school year.
And, as most everyone requested more Harry letters, which I had not anticipated, you have received them! Also, more Draco is on the way. I won't be doing alternating chapters, just here and there, whatever I feel like, mainly. Thankies greatly to all the reviewers, gracias, grazie, merci, arigatou and all that.
Lastly, I apologize for the lateness of this, but my creativity is notoriously uncooperative, so this'll get updated when it does cooperative.
