Harry gazed at his food, swirling the mashed potatoes with the peas as he listened to Ron tell a story about Fred and George. He'd heard it before, and was beginning to tune out the red-head's wild ramblings. Why hadn't he felt the need to make other friends? Harry wondered silently.
True, Harry had been rather obsessed with corresponding with his pen-pal, but since finding out that "Dragon" was none other than Draco Malfoy, Harry had stopped corresponding with him altogether. This turned out to be a bad idea. Though Harry dearly loved Ron and Hermione, there comes a time when you've had too much time with someone. For Harry, that time had come. Excusing himself from the table, Harry made his way to his dorm.
Once in his room, Harry took out the pile of letters, half unopened. It had been two months since he'd discovered Draco was his secret pen pal. It was nearly Christmas by now, and Harry was, well, beginning to regret the way he'd treated his pen pal. The Dragon Harry loved corresponding with was not the same boy as Draco Malfoy. Harry decided to open the letters. What harm would come from simply reading the letters?
Dear Thunder,
Thanks for your help with my potions question, and your note. It made me happy to know that I have someone to talk to who is devoted to learning as I am. I was just wondering—would you like to meet up? We could meet face to face and talk about things without a long wait between correspondences. If you wanted, we could go to the Kitchens (my mother told me how to get in) and have lunch…just let me know!
-Dragon
Dear Thunder,
I guess you don't really feel like meeting up just yet. That's okay! I still want to talk to you! I was just thinking of you in DADA. Quirrell was talking about this really neat spell…something about turning a vampire's hair purple, so you can tell for sure if he's a vampire…anyways, I thought about you and thought that maybe you could explain why the hair turns purple. Do you think that it would turn, say, a werewolf's hair a different color too?
-Dragon
Dear Thunder,
I haven't heard from you in a long time—are you feeling okay? I checked with Madame Pomfrey, and she said there hadn't been anyone in recently, so I guess you haven't gotten injured or anything. I really want to hear from you, so write me back soon, okay?
-Dragon
Thunder,
Either you're really being rude, or I've said something to offend you. I haven't heard from you in nearly two weeks, and I'm starting to worry. Write me back!
-Dragon
Thunder,
Apparently I was wrong. I really thought I could become good friends with you. I guess I was right, and this really is just a stupid assignment, and nothing will come of it. I don't know why you're giving me the cold shoulder, and I'm not okay with it. If you still want to talk, write to me. If not, I'll just write you again when it's required in February.
-Dragon
Harry put down the letters, feeling awful. True, Draco hadn't been kind to Harry, but since Harry wasn't technically supposed to know about the true identity of "Dragon" he didn't really have the right to stop talking to his pen-pal. Harry supposed he should write a quick letter, just to be kind.
Dragon,
Sorry I haven't written to you in such a long time. I had some things going on that upset me, and I was just confused for awhile. If you want to keep corresponding, I'm open to it. If you can't forgive me, I understand.
Sincerely,
Thunder
Harry sent the letter off with a school owl (he was more afraid than ever that Hedwig would be recognized) and sat back. Oddly, he felt so much better now that he had sent the letter. A noise came from the doorway, and he looked up to see Neville searching though his trunk.
"Alright there, Neville?" Harry asked. It turned out the boy couldn't find his potions text. Harry handed Neville his copy, then made his way to the common room. After staring at the fire for awhile, Harry realized with a jolt that he was supposed to be in the Library, with Ron and Hermione, researching the mysterious Nicholas Flamel. Harry remembered earlier conversations with "Dragon" and realized that if anyone were to know about an obscure wizard like Flamel, it would be Draco. Harry sighed. Why did life throw such a perfect friend his way, but make said perfect friend hate him? He headed in the direction of the library.
Okay, I know it's short, but it was better to go from Harry's perspective, so you know why he's still writing to Draco. Next chapter, back to the blond boy we know and love! I'll have the next chapter up ASAP...but a few reviews might make me write faster...
C