[Discontinued] When Shadows Collide, The Game Begins

Chapter Thirty

Draco wished he could go back to school. He cared about Harry, of course, but there was nothing to do. His friend barely woke, and when he did, it was only for long enough to eat, maybe say hi, before he fell asleep once more. The doctor's said Harry was improving, but his face was becoming more and more sunken as the days wore on, a haughty shadow over his eyes. But Draco was on strict orders to keep an eye on him, and the floo in 221b had been disconnected, something about the rules being stretched enough already.
    He kept up-to-date on schoolwork via dozens of letters from Hermione, though most of it went right over his head, and something about the way they were written felt off, but Draco couldn't quite put his finger on it. He also received a fair amount of letters from his father, all long and not really saying anything. No questions about his mother were answered, or why they seemingly had no concerns over him being taken out of school to live with muggles.
    Even Sherlock and John barely talked to him, always off on some case or at the hospital. Even in the busiest part of England, where the sounds of thousands of people could never quite go silent, Draco felt more alone than he had in his entire life.
    At long last, after spending nearly two weeks in the hospital, Harry was home. Not that you would know. He spent almost all his time sleeping, pale and haunted by something he dared not speak of. When he was awake, he would barely talk or even move, but he would let Draco sit beside him and read out letters from Fred and George.
    Draco had taken to sleeping on the sofa, given there were no other beds, but it did mean he was often woken at ungodly hours and had to take all his stuff to another room when clients arrived. John would smile apologetically every time, but Draco had a feeling that if McGonagall hadn't stated otherwise, he would've been on a train back to school quicker than you can say Hogwarts.
    Before he knew it, he was receiving letters containing his end of year exams. Draco couldn't quite believe that they also included a note telling him not to return to school until the next year, though if he wished, he could go home, not that his parents had invited him back.
    "That's messed up," said Harry, who had finally recovered enough to make the trip downstairs, if only for a few hours at a time. Draco nodded. "I mean, not letting you come back and still expecting you to do the exams? Maybe we should go to a different school or something. Nothing good has come out of Hogwarts." Draco couldn't help but agree, but the other wizarding schools didn't come close to Hogwarts concerning grades and future prospects.
    "I think something here is very wrong. Maybe we need to do an investigation of our own," said Draco. Harry agreed and began gathering pens and paper, setting them out on the living room floor and jotting down whatever ideas came to mind. Draco let him work for a few minutes, knowing that if he asked what was going on, the answer would leave him even more baffled.
    "So, we need to write letters to Fred and George, and any other people you know, excluding Hermione I guess, and try and ask them what's going on. If there is something wrong, our letters will be intercepted, so keep things as subtle as possible, and make it clear that if you don't get a reply, you'll start to worry for their safety." Draco nodded and grabbed parchment and a quill, and began drafting letters to send to everyone he knew.
    It took most of the day to finish, and by the time they had a neat stack of parchment envelopes in front of them, Harry looked near to passing out. Draco assured him he would take care of it before helping his friend upstairs and back to bed. There was an attempt of protest, but Harry was out before he could really fight it.
    It took quite a few days to deliver all the letters, and by the end of it, Hedwig was struggling to keep her eyes open. Draco felt bad for the bird, but knew she would recover and that, at the moment, whatever was going on at the school was more important.
    Replies to the letters started arriving over the next two weeks, people doing their best to remain subtle, but very much stating that the school wasn't okay. There were no details, nothing more than vague references to someone new being in power.
    "Do you think Eurus has something to do with this?" asked Draco, looking over a letter from George.
    "Must be, her or Voldemort I guess. I just wanna know how Hermione plays into all of this, cuz I can't remember." Despite the time that had passed, Harry still couldn't recall what had happened to him, and Draco refused to ask.
    "The real question is, how are either of us gonna find out more if we can't get there?" Draco said, sighing and leaning back into the sofa. The floo was down, the train only came a few times a year, and any other way to get in involved magic. "Do you think we could get the Knight Bus to Hogsmead?" asked Draco. Harry shrugged.
    "Only one way to find out," he said. Draco nodded and scribbled a note for Sherlock and John. The two were on a case and wouldn't be back for a few days, meaning there would be no chance to talk to them face to face. Then he grabbed some wizard-money, a backpack that he filled with spare clothes and the invisibility cloak. He'd come to realise over the past few months that much of the wizards' technology and fashion was old-fashioned and impractical. Harry brewed a coffee, putting it in an enchanted thermos to keep it warm, before joining Draco at the front door.