Draco stalked down the hall with an objective on his mind. He had just received an answer to his question from his owlpal, and now he needed an answer from another person.
He stopped outside a door, knocking on it.
"Come in," a slow, dark drawl permitted his entry. "Draco." Professor Shape barely lifted his eyes up from the paper that he was scoring.
"Why have you matched us up with the other gender?" Draco instantly asked.
Snape lifted his head up at Draco's accusing tone, abandoning his work. "Excuse me?" he demanded sharply, raising an eyebrow. "I suggest you change your tone with me."
Draco stopped himself from rolling his eyes, calmly, he explained, "My owlpal is a girl, Goyle's is a girl, Zabini has a girl owlpal, and so does Crabbe, Pansy's is a guy— are there any participants who have an owlpal of the same gender, or are you professors trying to play matchmakers?"
"Matchmaker?" Snape protested venomously as if it was the most hideous thing to cross his mind. "Do you honestly think I would resort to such a thing, Draco?"
Draco stirred in his seat. "Well, no, not exactly you, but perhaps the others drew you in somehow."
"No," the wizard denied, returning to his work. "I can see how suspicious that would look to you, but we used a pairing charm on your entries. You were matched specifically on your interests alone."
"Then why is it that we have been paired like this? It can't be by accident."
"Draco, sometimes magic has a mind of its own. Until it gives you an actual reason to think that it has found your mate for life, I wouldn't stress over it."
"This girl isn't Slytherin," Draco pointed out.
"Well, that is the point of the owlpal program, yes."
"So she can't be my mate."
Snape sighed. "Draco, if you really believe that not one person in your bloodline married outside of Slytherin, then there's no hope for you."
"Well, I don't want to marry anyone outside of Slytherin."
"Do you have a Slytherin currently in mind that you would like to wed in your future?"
Draco made a face. "No!" he said, horrified as he thought of each of the girls in his house. Granted, there were many he hadn't even socialized with, but he had yet to have one that made his heart stop at just the sight of her. Pansy had kissed him once, but he hadn't felt any sort of love from the gesture.
Snape tilted his head, suggestively. "Then, perhaps, this owlpal of yours could be the absolute love-of-your-life."
Draco couldn't tell if he was joking or not. He could never tell with Snape since the man had an incredibly dark, dry sense of humour.
As a Prefect, Draco had to patrol at least two nights a week for one hour. Since the school was promoting house unity, Draco had to patrol with someone outside of Slytherin. He didn't mind this much, if it were someone from Ravenclaw, but neither Macmillan or Abbott would be quiet enough to actually patrol— they were supposed to be sneaking up on curfew-breakers after all, and the Gryffindors always lead to some sort of hexing match— or like the last time, a broken nose.
Draco was going to try to get through one night without it ending in some sort of commotion. After his talk with Snape, it had really hit him that adulthood was just around the corner, and he needed to take things a little more seriously. The idiotic, immature fighting would need to cease eventually. He couldn't continue pressing the buttons of Gryffindors after school. He'd probably lose.
At least if they ganged up on him.
Or if he got in a fight with a certain, bushy-haired one. Yes, that would also be a losing battle, indeed.
Tonight, he was supposed to be patrolling with Ron Weasley. He was not looking forward to it. Draco had been able to avoid the Gryffindors of his own year for the past day and a half. He knew he would have to cross paths them at some point though, and the subject of getting ganged up on by their fellow members would come up.
He would find it hard to act maturely if he was being teased. Draco promised himself to try to keep his cool, but he didn't have high spirits if he and Ron Weasley were going to be near each other.
Draco stood patiently at the staircase between the third and fourth level. They'd be patrolling the two floors that night. Draco was going to suggest that they each took a floor to avoid conflict. He thought it was a swell idea. Knowing the Weasel though, he'd be against it just because it wasn't his own idea.
He quietly sighed when he heard footsteps approaching. He figured Weasley was probably dreading this too. Draco cursed whoever came up with this unity rubbish. Pansy would be much more fun to patrol with.
"Malfoy."
The voice was far too feminine to be Weasley's. She sounded exceedingly annoyed too.
"Granger," he forced himself to return plainly. Deep down, he felt a small hint of pain. It sort of upset him that the only one who didn't mind patrolling with him was Pansy.
Of course, his inner mind argued that he had something to do with that.
They weren't innocent either, he reminded himself. Since day one, they had always thought Draco was up to no good, simply because he was a Slytherin.
"Ronald couldn't make it," Granger informed with a huff. "Apparently, he forgot about his Astronomy assignment." She then muttered something under her breath. Draco barely caught the words, "bloody carpet".
"I apologize for being a terrible ending to your day," he replied, somewhat sarcastic.
"Right, well, it's not your fault that Ronald can't juggle his workload," Granger grumbled, making Draco smirk a little. "So let's get this over with okay? I'm incredibly exhausted, and honestly, I'd rather not fight with you tonight. So if you don't mind, can we just pretend that we're not rivalries for one, ruddy night?"
Draco found it intriguing that Granger actually wanted the exact same thing that he did. He didn't let her know that though.
"I'm alright with that," he acknowledged simply.
Granger cautiously tilted her head, having not expected him to agree with her, but she started up the stairs just the same.
"Do you want to patrol one floor and I'll patrol the other?"
"You're giving me the option?" she asked in mild surprise.
"It doesn't quite matter to me which floor I patrol. I just thought it'd be better to separate."
She nodded. "Alright. I'll continue up if you want to go down."
"Meet back here in twenty minutes?"
"Sure."
Draco silently watched her climb the stairs until she disappeared at the top of the floor. He thought it was strange. That had been his first cordial exchange with Granger, ever.
Keep your distance, Draco reminded himself the next morning. He saw Potter, Weasley and Granger walking toward him, on their way to Potions just as he was.
"Did you finally learn to not run your mouth, Malfoy? My brother messed you up good, did he?!"
Draco stopped abruptly in his steps. Pansy, who was walking with him sent him a look. He closed his eyes, telling himself to ignore the Weasel-bee.
"Why didn't you say anything back," Pansy wondered when Draco started walking again.
"Because he's just not worth my time."
Pansy gave him a confused look. "Are you afraid you'll get beat up again?" She knew Draco wasn't ordinary bothered with being ganged up on, much as he pretended to be a whimpering fool, he wasn't.
"Course not," he snapped, offended that she would even ask that.
"Then what is it?" she demanded, irritated with his tone.
"I'm… trying to act more mature."
"All of a sudden?" Pansy inquired suspiciously.
"And what of it?"
She smiled. "I think you've learned something from that attack."
"Well, sure," Draco agreed, taking a seat in the Potions Dungeon, far away from any Gryffindor. "I can't act like a wanker all my life, can I?"
Pansy snorted. "A wanker? Really Draco, you're not that bad."
"To you, maybe not, but I could probably be a little more... nicer to others, specifically to those outside of Slytherin."
"Well," Pansy scratched at her head, slightly uneasy. "If we're going to be honest, I must admit, my owlpal sounds kind of fun. I almost don't want to know who he is, because you know what he's going to think of me when he finds out who I am."
Draco could definitely relate. Once his owlpal learned who he was, what was she going to do? She would probably not want anything to do with him.
He uncomfortably stirred in his seat, suddenly dreading the party that would reveal who he really was. Draco quickly dismissed the thought, putting his sole attention on Professor Snape as he started his lecture.
When the class was over, the students raced out of there. Half of them couldn't stand being around the teacher, while the other half was afraid to be late to their next class.
Draco pushed through the bodies, trying to get to Transfigurations before it started. McGonagall would not accept any excuses for being late.
He stopped in his steps when he had seen a piece of parchment on the stone flooring, getting kicked around by the group. He took his wand and picked it up, hovering it over to him. He wasn't one to like litter. Draco was once given detention to pick up trash—without the use of his wand!— and he couldn't believe how disgusting and careless people were.
He straightened the paper out to read, making sure that it wasn't someone's assignment or anything important like that. What he read made his breath hitch a bit. He looked up, noticing that the group had now disappeared. The corridor was now empty.
Dear Owlpal
I too have been so swamped with the OWLs. I don't really understand why I feel the need to study as much as I do, I know I'll do well; I absorb information like a sponge does water.
I suppose I'm just worried. I don't want my friends knowing this, but I'm not stupid, this year is incredibly important. If I don't do exceedingly well, I might end up having to farm sheep! Well, perhaps not exactly that, but I'm sure you know what I mean.
And that's before the shame I'll bring onto my parents if I don't score well. Since the day I was born, they have expected me to be the best. I have given my all, but my best isn't enough. It sounds like you're going through the same as me though. And I know we'll meet one day, but for now, this anonymity is quite nice to have.
Do we even have to meet? Can't we just let this go on forever? You can't deny that the idea of writing to some unknown person is thrilling. I already know how exciting this program is for you. You signed up for fun, for Merlin's sake! I bet you're the only one in the entire school to have done that!
Let me know what you think because if you want, we could continue this for as long as you wish. We'd never have to know each other's identity. Ever.
Also, do you have any recommendations for books on Astronomy? I'm fascinated with the solar system, I can't get enough. I know you're well-read, and maybe you've read something that I've missed.
"Draco?"
Draco quickly tucked the parchment into his robes. "I was just picking up litter, sir!" he hastily explained himself to Snape who stood in the doorway of the Potions Dungeon with narrow eyes.
"Off you go to Transfigurations," Snape directed before he whirled around and disappeared back into the classroom.
Draco resumed his steps, too numb to even know half of what he was doing. He didn't even know what McGonagall had taught the class that day.
He should be angry, but he wasn't. Why wasn't he upset that he had just learned who his owlpal was? Why was he only wishing that he had just left that bloody parchment alone?
He now had a choice to make. Was he going to continue as if nothing had happened? Or was he going to ignore her future letters altogether? The rules stated that he could do either option (preferring that he did the former, of course), but Draco didn't know what to do. It was upsetting that he was now out 200 points, and the Slytherin inside him told him that he ought to march straight up to Granger and reveal who he was. Draco didn't want to do that though, and he didn't exactly know why.
Bloody Granger! He really would have preferred to never have known that Granger was his owlpal.
*/*
"What's got you in a frenzy?" Harry asked. He snatched a piece of parchment that fluttered from out of a book. He and Ron helped Hermione manage her things as she dug through her book bag in a reckless mess.
"I lost the letter!" she wailed, near tears. "It's not here! I must have dropped it somewhere between here and the Potions Dungeon!" Then she gasped in sudden fear. "Oh, what if he finds it?! What if he knows it's me?!"
"What letter?" Ron asked.
"My owlpal's!"
"Hermione, the odds of him finding his own letter are like one in a thousand," Harry pointed out as they continued their long walk to the Charms classroom. "Let alone knowing it was you who dropped it."
"And besides, if he finds out it is you, then that means his house loses 200 points, which is good for us!"
"That's not the point of the program, and you know it!" Hermione scolded Ron.
Ron rolled his eyes. "Hermione, you're too sensitive! I was just trying to look on the brighter side of the situation. Sheesh! Don't take it out on me because you got careless for the first time in your life."
Hermione was fighting not to cry. She was so upset with herself right now. She had never been competitive when it came to the house point system. Sure, she was happy when Gryffindor won the House Cup, but winning wasn't everything. The points mattered to her owlpal though. If this caused her owlpal to lose the 200 points that he had been working so hard for, she didn't know what she would do.
She wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out!
In her dorm that night, she decided it would be best to inform her owlpal of her mistake. That way, he was at least advised not to go picking up loose pieces of parchment.
Dear Owlpal,
I regret to inform you that I did something completely reckless today. I used your letter to mark a book I was reading in a hurry, and it fell out sometime during classes. I looked all over and retraced my steps, but I never did find it!
I do hope that my identity remains unknown to you. I would feel awfully terrible if you failed this exercise just because of me. I know this was incredibly important to you, and I deeply apologize. If you DID find the letter, I would understand if you never wanted to write to me again, but if you haven't yet, I thought you should know to stray from any lone pieces of parchment. I would hate for you to lose the 200 points.
Your Owlpal
"Here, Hermione," Padma Patil held out a worn-out looking piece of parchment at breakfast a couple of days later.
"My letter!" Hermione shrieked out in relief. "You found it! Thank you!"
"Well, actually, some First year found it. I got it from my sister who said one of the Ravenclaw First years gave it to her after it had been given to him. Apparently, someone saw you drop it the other day."
"Well, I'm grateful to have it back!"
"Me too," Ron chimed in. "Now maybe you'll stop having kittens over it!"
Hermione sent him a look, but he didn't notice, he had his head buried in some rubbish comic book that he was eager to finish.
She reread the letter, trying to decide how she wanted to respond to it. Her owlpal didn't want them to meet, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that. She could definitely agree with him. She did like their anonymity, but she also wanted to put a face on him. Would they get along in person just as they did on paper?
Of course, this was if he still wanted to write her to begin with.
He was rough around the edges, but she could tell that he had a soft spot to him. A spot he hardly let anyone know about, but it was there, and he had shown her. That made her feel a bit special. She really didn't want to lose this new friend.
"Hermione?"
Hermione looked up, hearing Harry's tiny, pathetic plea voice. He looked at her with pitiful eyes.
"What is it this time?" she asked with a sigh, knowing that look all too well; he wanted her to do something for him.
"My mum says I need a NEWT level in Potions in order to be an Auror."
Hermione nodded. This was not news to her. "You want me to help prepare you for the exam, don't you?"
His lips stretched out into a smile of relief. "Maybe you can compile a list of book suggestions? Mum sent me one, but I know you'll have your own list too. Preferably something that speaks more my level?"
"Harry, you're not dumb," Hermione scolded with a roll of her eyes.
"But your reading level is far beyond mine. I need something that's not Greek to me."
"I know just the books," she told him, beaming at the thought of a title that instantly came to her mind. Harry would find it very useful.
"Ronald? Would you also like a book list?"
"Not now, Hermione!" Ron scolded with his nose still stuck in the comic book. "Agatha is about to attack Thorpus with a gruesome curse— oh Merlin, you should see the blood gushing out of him! He can't live after this, he just can't!"
Hermione sighed in complete exasperation. "Fine! Don't come crying to me this weekend when your assignments are nearly due and you didn't care to study for them!"
"You're only mad because your owlpal won't write you," he grumbled. "Don't take it out on me!"
"I'm serious, Ron! If you don't care at all, I don't either. I'm tired of having to drop everything because you're just too lazy!"
"Well, who asked you anyway!" he retorted firmly. "You're worse than my mother, I swear!"
Hermione uprooted from the bench of the Gryffindor table. "And you treat her like rubbish too! You're on your own from now on Ronald Weasley! I'm not going to help you!"
"Good, maybe I'll get some peace for a change," he called out as she made to storm off.
It took all of her control not to spat an insult back at him. They had attracted enough of an audience.
Her face flushed with an embarrassed heat as she escaped the room.
Hermione moped the rest of the night until she checked the owlpal box and found that she had a letter. Her heart picked up with hope. She hurried up to her dormitory to read it in private.
Dear Owlpal
I won't say that I was at all pleased learning that my letter to you was wandering around the halls of Hogwarts, but as I said before, I do enjoy our letters, and I don't think we should stop our friendship over such a trivial matter.
We ARE friends, right? I would believe so, anyway. We get along alright. On paper at the very least.
So, you never did tell me what you thought of my idea. I know you were overwhelmed at the thought of me losing points because of your mistake. I would like an answer, please. If you need some time to think about it, let me know.
Did you ever find the letter?