Harry woke up on Sunday morning to the sound of an owl threatening to break down his window. Not wanting the window to break, Harry swore colorfully and stomped over the closed window. He yanked it open with unnecessary force, nearing knocking the owl off of his window ledge in the process. The owl stared at Harry angrily, then tried to push its way into Harry's room as if it was looking for a treat. "Nice try, you git. Go on." Harry closed the window before the owl had a chance to bite him.

He stared down at the letter; he recognized Mrs. Weasley's neat block hand writing immediately. Harry sat back down on his bed and tore open the letter.

Mrs. Weasley wrote to Harry quite often. Although her letters were almost reliably long and lengthy, Harry's responses were usually brief, or non-existent at all. He knew that Mrs. Weasley treated him as one of her own children, and that she kept up with him only because she truly cared, but it was still hard for Harry to write to her. Although she did not blame him for it, Harry felt heavily responsible for the dismantlement of her family. He had already caused her so much grief; it hardly seemed fair to burden her with his problems. Not that he wanted to; the second reason he rarely responded was because he was very uncomfortable talking about anything personal with anyone he didn't consider to be a very close friend. Even though he didn't respond, it still made Harry feel slightly happier knowing that at least one person was still out there thinking about him.

Harry,

It is been quite a while since we have heard from you; is everything all right? How is teaching going? For your holiday sweater I am going to knit a Hogwarts teacher's emblem onto it. I am sure you will love it. How are you handling things? You know I always worry about you, dear. I am just looking out for you.

Now, normally I try not to interfere with your social life, but I couldn't help but notice Ron came home particularly angry with you last night. At the moment he is still living at home, and you know how easy it is to overhear everything. I know you all went out drinking; so don't try to pretend that you didn't. But, what you don't know is how much I think Ron misses you. You have been trapped at Hogwarts since the summer, and he and the rest of the family haven't seen you. Please try to stop by sometime.

When Ron came stomping in last night, he was also muttering something about Draco Malfoy. I was aware that he was teaching at Hogwarts, but I had forgotten the rivalry between you two. Is everything all right between you two? I insist on reminding you that if anything happens, you should immediately go to Minerva. She would not tolerate anything fighting between you to.

Come and visit soon!

Mrs. Weasley.

Harry folded the letter back into the envelope and tossed it aside. He found Mrs. Weasley's undying concern for him endearing, but it also angered him that she was defending Ron. He wouldn't allow Mrs. Weasley to cover up for him; he wanted Ron to speak for himself. He secretly hoped that that time would come soon, because if he was being truthful with himself, he missed his best friend too. Harry had been trapped in the drama of his own world for so long that he forgot that there were still people out there that cared about him. In regards to Draco, Harry really didn't want to write to Mrs. Weasley about him; he saw how badly Ron had acted, and if he couldn't tell Ron and his friends, then he didn't want to tell anyone else about their friendship yet.

Harry quickly scrawled a response saying that he was fine, that he and Ron did have a fight, but it was nothing to worry about. He wrote that he and Draco weren't fighting, and that he had really adjusted to the teaching life at Hogwarts. After sealing it in an envelope, Harry quickly got dressed and headed up to the owlry.

The corridors were silent; they always were early in the morning on a Sunday. The students and paintings were still asleep. Harry's footsteps echoed down the hollow corridors, making it sound like hundreds of people were in it. Harry reached the base of the steps that led up to the owlry tower. With reluctance, Harry started the climb up to the top.

When he reached the top of the steps, Harry was slightly out of breath. The two giant oak doors that led to the owlry were right in front of him. Both hands closed around one of the door handles and pulled.

The owlry was beautiful if you could stand the sight and smell of owl droppings everywhere. Large wooden poles ran across the ceiling where hundreds of owls were resting quietly. Large windows surrounded the room so owls could fly in and out of the tower at their leisure; it gave the room a very open feeling. Standing at one of the window ledges next to a large, tawny owl was Draco Malfoy.

Harry drew in a quick breath. The events of yesterday started to flood back to him. Even though his mind was racing, he kept expression neutral. Harry promised himself not to mention anything from yesterday; just to be as he always was with Draco. Before he noticed Harry's presence, Harry could see could see a worried expression written on Draco's face. The expression stuck as he watched the tawny fly off with his letter attached to it.

"Hey, Draco." Harry called. Whatever worry was formerly on Draco's face was quickly stored away and replaced with a neutral expression, almost as if the worry had never been there at all. Draco turned away from the window. "Why are you up here so early, Harry?" The question was friendly, but it was laced with something else. "I am about to send a letter to the Weasleys. What about you?" "Don't worry about it." Draco snapped. Harry's eyebrows knitted together in skeptism. "When I walked in you looked worried about something." Harry stated factually "Well I am not. Everything is fine. Now if you'll excuse me I have to go and prepare for breakfast." Draco walked curtly out of the owlry.

Even though he didn't say anything, Harry knew Draco was remembering yesterday just as he was. Harry had hoped that Draco wouldn't have taken notice to the events of yesterday being abnormal, but he clearly had done so. Something was nagging him. Although Harry wasn't expecting a dramatic river of tears, he at least expected Draco to answer. Or, he at least expected for him to tell him part of the story. Furthermore, Draco was already dressed in his normal black wizards robes, and breakfast wasn't for another 45 minutes; he was clearly making excuses to leave. Harry frowned at that thought. It appeared that Draco needed a bit of breathing room, and although Harry understood why, it was still frustrating to think about.

The rest of Harry's day was quite uneventful. He continued to grade papers, and when he finished that, he made an outline for a practical exam for his first through third years. He spent the majority of his day locked up in his room. Although it wasn't the most exciting of days, it was an extremely productive one.

That evening, Draco had turned up to dinner before Harry. Beside a curt hello, the two did not say anything to one another. Instead, Harry watched the even mail get delivered to the students. The owls flew high around the ceiling, dropping what they were carrying only when they knew it would land on the intended person's lap. It looked like the sky was snowing paper.

To Harry's surprise, a letter was dropped onto Draco's lap. Draco moved to conceal the letter quickly, but Harry's sight was quicker. The crest of the Ministry of Magic was on it. "What does the ministry want from you?" Harry asked through a mouth full of food. "Mind your own bloody business, Harry," Draco retorted angrily as he got up and left The Great Hall.

Harry was taken by surprise; the last time Draco had sounded that angry with him was when they had wands pointed at each other. He wondered if the letter he saw Draco send earlier that morning was to the Ministry. Whatever it was, it was bothering Draco. Underneath his anger, Harry could see the same worried expression he was wearing earlier. It bothered Harry to know that something was bothering his friend, but he didn't know what.

Harry took a deep breath. Perhaps it was hard for Draco to look at him after the weirdness of yesterday. Harry recalled what he promised himself; he said he would give Draco his space. Perhaps that was all he needed. Determined not to think about it any longer, Harry left the dining hall and back up to his room.

Hey everyone! I am sorry this chapter is a little short, and a little, "Ehhhh". I have good plans for the next one, so bare with me. The letter to Mrs. Weasley was based off of a review I got. Please please please don't be afraid to tell me what you think of my story! Just keep in mind, if it is constructive criticism, I would be much more receptive to it you gave it to me in a respectful way. Anyways, thank you for reading this far!