Pen Pal (Drarry) HIATUS

2

"Alright students, if you would, come collect your parchment and quills for the pen pal assignment. You will be writing your first letters today. Now you may write as many as you wish a day. I just ask that you try for at least one a day. Come along now."

McGonagall got all students in a line and started to hand them all their necessary supplies for the letters. Once each student had what they needed they took their seats.

"For your first letter I'd like you to discreetly introduce yourself without giving your identity away. Talk about things you enjoy talking about. Talk about things that you don't particularly want to speak on, and things you absolutely refuse to speak on. Just give your pen pal an idea of how to get to know you. You may begin. Once finished I will teach you how to send your letters, and then you will be on your own. Come see me when you're done."

Harry sighed, looking at the blank parchment in front of him. He didn't enjoy this idea at all. Having to talk to someone when he doesn't know who it is. He didn't need anyone figuring out anything about his life, if they found out who he was, anything he said could be used for public humiliation.

Draco Malfoy was having the same thoughts. Looking around at the eighth year students, wondering who exactly he'd be spilling these secrets to. He assumed McGonagall would pair him with someone he wasn't close to.

As this was the whole point of this exercise, he just hoped that it wasn't someone out to get him. Then again, he figured the professor wouldn't do that to him. She was after all the only one who didn't look at him like the villain he was. Well the villain he felt like he was anyways.

Nonetheless he felt it to be necessary to complete the task appropriately, as to not upset anyone. He needed to lay low and focus on his studies, and not get kicked out. He was still young, and while some people would always be stuck in their ways, the young Malfoy had some hope that maybe he could still fix his reputation.

So he began writing his letter.

Dear Pen Pal,

I suppose I have to be quite careful, for I don't want to completely expose myself. I will be short and honest.

I am not quite sure anymore what I ENJOY talking about, everything seems to remind me of the war. I have a few things I guess wouldn't be terrible.

- Art
- Flowers
- Ways to heal + cope from a different perspective
- Books
- Music
- Studies? I'm sure we're in the same classes
- We can speak of the war if it helps, but I simply won't answer anything that is triggering to myself

As for triggers, I am not so sure what necessarily triggers me yet. A bit of everything and nothing if you will, I'd like to avoid talking about my family. Otherwise everything is free game until it isn't I suppose.

Yours truly,
Well me

He looked over his letter, shaking his head slowly. It was the best he was going to do, and he didn't spend too much time thinking about the letters' contents. He merely wanted this out of his way

Harry though had only just started his letter. He was having a much worse time coming up with something to say to his supposed pen pal.

Uhm.. Dear pen pal? I guess, since I can't know your name.

I supposed I'm expected to spend time blabbing about the war and how it made me feel. I think it's a load of bollocks that McGonagall truly believes this will work.

I'm sure you experienced hell in the war, and so did I. But I don't see how whining about the effects is to help us.

Nonetheless I wouldn't wish to upset poor McGonagall, so as for things we can talk about..

Well I don't really know, I don't particularly like anything now. Not like I used to, I suppose we could speak about the war if you'd like, but as soon as one stupid thing comes from you I'll be off. I don't want to do this anyways, so don't make me regret it.

We can also speak on quidditch and possibly art, music is a big help. As long as we don't talk about Voldemort or nightmares.

Anyways, I'll wrap this up. I guess if we are to talk all year we need to make nicknames for each other. Some that aren't really obvious. I shall give you one after I read your first letter and feel out what type of person I'm speaking to.

Bye,
-Me I suppose

He rolled his eyes and shrugged, walking up to McGonagall. He didn't care whether his letter was good or not, just glad it was gone and out of his way for a little.

"Are you finished Mr. Potter?" The headmistress asked, receiving a nod and a sigh from the student in front of her. She looked at him in pity, which only fueled his anger more. He hated all of the looks of pity he'd received since the war.

"Just show me how to send it." He muttered, trying to not sound irritated with her. He knew she meant well, and he was constantly repeating it in his head.

"One moment headmistress, I'm finished with mine as well," Draco spoke quietly, hurrying to walk up to where her and Harry were standing. Harry moved out of his way, like he was avoiding a disease. Normally this wouldn't have bothered Draco, but for some reason it made him frown today. Reminding him exactly who he played in the war.

McGonagall noticed the tension, and quickly moved to show the boys how to deliver their letters. It was as simple as handing them to an owl that McGonagall trained to know whose letters belonged to who. The boys handed off their letters and quickly turned away to head back to their seats in opposite directions.

The rest of the class finished shortly, students walking up one by one. After everyone was finished they were released for lunch.

In the great hall, Harry was playing with his food, ignoring all conversation around him. Hermione glanced sideways at Ron, who nodded slowly at his girlfriend. "Harry mate, you should really eat something, you're going to starve."

Hermione rolled her eyes, wondering why she didn't do everything herself to begin with. "Harry what Ronald means is, are you okay?"

Harry sighed, picking up a piece of toast and beginning to nibble on it. "All is well, go back to your conversations please."

He slowly stood up afterwards, turning away and ignoring all protests from his friends. He felt his anger fade as he left all of the pity and worry behind at the table. He hated everything about this year, and couldn't wait to find himself literally anywhere else than here.

Harry Potter didn't feel like Hogwarts was his home anymore. Harry Potter didn't want anything to do with being a wizard anymore. He wasn't prepared to feel this way when he returned for an eighth year, he thought he'd be at peace.. all he could think at this point is he'd wished he would've ignored that letter.

He shook his head, ridding him of those thoughts. He needed to finish this, if not for himself then for his parents. For those who died because of him. He only hoped the year would go by quickly, before he lost his mind in this castle.

Sighing he entered his common room, trying to strip and head straight to bed when he noticed the letter on his table. He huffed a bitter laugh of annoyance, choosing to open it and read it quickly. He assumed McGonagall had closely picked each person's pen pal because this person's lists of triggers and okay topics seemed quite similar to his open.

He threw it back down on his desk with another wave of anger, knowing that he simply didn't want anything to do with this exercise. He'd reply later, maybe.

-

A/N hope you enjoyed loves.

Much love,

-H🫶🏼