Draco,

I'm not slow, I left Pip there on purpose. If given a choice I'm sure he would rather stay with you anyway. You spoil him.

I do miss you, but I'm not crying on Snape's shoulder. And do send along those biscuits, I'm sure they will be greatly appreciated. (Although I do find the idea of you baking with Remus slightly disturbing.)

Rotten luck about your lessons, but at least you don't have to start tomorrow. I'm sure I'll have loads of homework for you to help me with.

I wanted to tell you that I have a meeting with Dumbledore in a few days. Maybe he'll have some information regarding what Voldemort and your father have planned. Don't worry until we know more, though. I know how you are.

And, before I forget, where did you find this typewriter? It's wicked. The type makes the paper hard to fold, hence the box. I'm sure Pip can handle it.

Tell Remus I said hi, and don't have too much fun without me.

Until Friday Night,

Harry

"I thought, seeing as you are such an important person in our little venture that you deserved a status report, Albus."

"I really would rather not know what that imposter is doing, if it's all the same," Dumbledore said smoothly, his voice the only think still recognizable. "I would like to hold on to the illusion that they are safe."

"Very foolish," Voldemort said with a harsh chuckle. "Harry Potter is meeting with him very soon. Now...if you refuse to tell me where Draco is, there are certain...actions...to be taken towards Potter. Do you understand?"

"That would be very foolish," Dumbledore forced out, trying to sit up straighter against the wall and failing, only sliding down farther. "Harry will have told his friends where he is going. They will know that Lucius was the last to see him. You can't kill a student under the noses of all those teachers."

"I can," Voldemort hissed. "I have. Give me what I want, Dumbledore. I'll get it one way or another. Give it to me and Potter will live a little longer, as will countless students at Hogwarts. They trust Lucius, they'll tell him things that I'm sure I'm not meant to know. They think he's you. No one is more trusted than you."

"I thought you wanted Harry dead? When did Draco Malfoy become your top priority?" Dumbledore said softly. "It's not like you to change your focus so abruptly, Tom."

"I want Potter for myself," the Dark Lord spat. "And before I can have that opportunity, I want him to suffer as much as humanly possible. I'm sure you understand. There are many things that my Dumbledore stand-in could do to Potter that wouldn't kill him. Now, tell me what I want to hear."

"If..." Dumbledore began, for the first time in his imprisonment looking helpless. "If I tell you the whereabouts of Draco Malfoy...will you instruct Lucius Malfoy to leave Hogwarts? Leave the children out of this. It isn't their fight."

"But it is," Voldemort pressed. "It is Harry Potter's and yours and mine. "But I will tell Lucius to vacate. It's the least I can do. Plus, I'm sure he would love to have some quality time with his son."

Dumbledore sighed deeply as he pulled a clump of matted hair out of a patch of dried blood on his forehead. "I don't trust you, Tom."

" You shouldn't. All I can give you is my word. I'll be the first to tell you that it isn't worth much."

"And you wouldn't have to tell me," Dumbledore said quietly, hoping that it was nighttime and Harry had neglected his Occlumency lessons. If Voldemort's happiness was strong enough, Harry may very well be dreaming of this. If the giddy sneer on his face was any indication, it was a strong possibility.

"I grow weary of conversing with you old man," the Dark Lord said, extracting his wand from the folds of his dark robes. "I will do as you ask. Now tell me where Malfoy is."

Dumbledore closed his eyes, hoping with all he heart that Harry could see him. "He's at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, but..."

But he never got to finish that statement. There was a flash of sickening green light, and he slumped over, lifeless. Voldemort smirked triumphantly, muttering, "Stupid man, always trying to trust someone, always thinking people are worth their word. You should learn most aren't."

His footfalls echoed hollowly off the dungeon walls.

Somewhere in the Scottish countryside, Harry Potter awoke with a start. Not only was the pain in his forehead excruciating, but he was filled with a vague sense of dread. There had been something about Draco, and Dumbledore, and blood.

He climbed out of bed, pulled on his dressing gown. He remembered at the last second to put on his trainers.

He flew down the empty corridors, not caring about how much noise he made. He had to tell Dumbledore about this. He had to be assured that Draco was safe there, that there would be no way that Voldemort would be able to get him.

Much to his dismay, he found Dumbledore's office door open. Expecting the worst and suddenly realizing that he had left his wand on his bedside table, he slowly ascended the steps.

"Well don't loiter outside Harry, come on in," Dumbledore's voice called out, and Harry was marginally relieved. "I'm sure that your late night visit is important, or else you wouldn't have ran down here. Take a seat."

Harry did just that as he tried to catch his breath and slow his heart. He waited for an offering of lemon drops, but it never came. Finally after a long moment of mutual staring, Harry said, "Sir, I had a...another dream. About Voldemort."

"I thought you would," Dumbledore said sadly, the twinkle in his blue eyes gone. "Do you mind if I fetch Severus?" He said softly, not waiting for Harry to answer before fire-calling the Potions Master.

Snape emerged from the fire as soon as Dumbledore asked him to, sitting next to Harry and not acknowledging his presence.

"Good, I'm glad you could..."

"Cut to the chase Dumbledore," Snape snapped. "It's late."

"Very well," the Headmaster said as he folded his spidery hands in front of him. "Mr. Potter has a dream involving the Dark Lord that he wants to tell us about. Go ahead, Mr. Potter."

"Well," Harry began in an awkward tone, "I...I don't remember much about it, but Professor Dumbledore, you were there and there was blood and...and I think Voldemort killed you. And there was something about Draco. I...I'm worried."

"I'll contact Remus immediately to make sure he and Mr. Malfoy are alright," Snape toned in a voice slightly more hurried than usual. "I'll let you know as soon as I do, Potter." And at that, he disappeared back through the fireplace.

Harry was quiet for a long time, wondering when talking to Dumbledore had became an uncomfortable affair. Finally he said, "I'll...just go back to my room, then."

"Alright. Goodnight Harry," Dumbledore said as he stood. "I'm glad you still understand that you can trust me with these visions of yours. But, as you can plainly see, I am far from dead. I'm sure you will soon find that Mr. Malfoy is safe as well."

All Harry could do was nod. As soon as he got back to his dorm, however, he gathered the typewriter and some parchment and wrote:

Draco,

I just had a vision, and before you whine about it just being a nightmare, listen to me. I know the difference. Well, most of the time, I do. It involved you and I have reason to believe that you aren't safe there.

I'm sure Remus and Snape will tell me that you are, that there's no way that anyone could hurt you, but I'm scared. I wish that I was there to protect you. Just...be careful. And please please please write back as soon as you get this.

Be safe, love.

Your Harry

He found he couldn't sleep, even after Snape had sent message, via an annoyed-looking house-elf, that everything was alright at Grimmauld Place. He was worried, and for the first time in a long time looking forward to leaving Hogwarts.

It was daybreak before he received Pig back, clutching a letter tightly. Harry ripped it open to spy Draco's tidy handwriting.

Love,

Just calm down. There is a Fidelius Charm here. No one is getting in unless Dumbledore gives them permission. We are fine. We are safe here. You are safe there. No one is going to get me.

I understand that you dreams are right sometimes, but they sometimes are just that, dreams. You are just anxious. Just calm down and pay attention in your classes today. God knows you are already distracted enough.

I'll see you soon. Don't have a panic attack before then.

Draco

Maybe Draco was right. Maybe he was overreacting. He climbed out of bed and made way to the loo, planning on getting an early start and having a good breakfast before the first day of class. He was vaguely wondering what his first lesson of the day would be, and who it would be with.

Just before he stepped into the shower another thought crossed his mind: I sure hope no one offers to butter my muffin.

Their first lesson of the day turned out to be Transfiguration, which Harry was very thankful for. Not only was this class made up of only Gryffindors, but Harry wouldn't have to worry about gossip. McGonogall would have none of it.

He was joined in the Great Hall first by Hermione, then (much later, mind,) by Ron.

Harry started to tell them about his dream and his strange meeting with Dumbledore, but decided against it. Hermione would only worry and Ron would only scoff.

"I am so pleased to be back!" Hermione trilled, absently chopping the first on first her own, then Ron's plate. "You don't realize how much you missed something until you come back to it."

"I..." Harry began but Ron just rolled his eyes.

"We know you miss Malfoy," he muttered. "You don't have to keep reminding us."

"I wasn't going to say that!" Harry exclaimed at the same moment Hermione slapped Ron.

"Honestly Ronald, keep your mouth shut," Hermione hissed. "You have no reason to respond that way. And if I'm not mistaken, you are the one who keeps bringing Draco up."

Harry lowered his head, hiding a smile.

Ron just tightened his lips and returned to his breakfast.

"Now," Hermione said in the same tone she had used to proclaim her excitement about returning to Hogwarts, "What were you going to say, Harry?"

"I was going to say that I'm glad our first class isn't with the Slytherins," Harry said as he spooned some jam into his porridge. "But I suppose Ron knows what I am going to say much better than I do."

"Sorry," Ron said guiltily. "And I'm sorry about yesterday, too. That fight was pointless. I...I'm not sure if Ginny is, though. You'll have to talk to her."

"It doesn't bother me if she's cross with me," Harry said truthfully. "I've done nothing to her. We broke up a long time ago. I've moved on, so should she."

"That's a bit harsh," Hermione said meekly, not meeting Harry's eyes.

Ron nodded. "Yeah Harry. She's had a crush on you forever. I don't think she'll ever be over you, not completely."

"She could try," Harry said, standing and shouldering his bag. "I don't mean to be harsh, but I only went out with her because I wanted to make her happy. I felt bad."

Hermione lowered her head, and Ron shook his head. "Talk to her," he said finally, just before Harry walked away.

McGonogall's classroom was unlocked, so Harry went on in, taking his usual seat.

He pulled out his quill and parchment, followed by the Transfiguration text Hermione, Remus, and Ron had purchased for him.

He started another letter to Draco, jotting down what he wanted to say so that when he had time to go back to his dorm and use the typewriter, he would already have the letter written.

He found that every moment he had free he was writing to Draco.

Love,

Sorry to bother you with so many letters, but seeing as I can't talk to you, I think that it's alright.

I've got a bit of a problem. Ginny hate me because I'm dating you. Don't be surprised if she tried to kill you with a letter bomb or something. I don't know, maybe you should write her a letter or something.

Make sure you stay safe.

Harry

Harry put away the letter just as the first arrivals for Transfiguration started to drift in.

It was going to be a long, grueling day.

And there you have it! Review please!