TWENTY-ONE

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Back in the quiet of their shared room, warmth slowly seeped into their bones as they shook off the snow. The faint crackling from the small fire in the fireplace gave the room a comfortable glow, though the task ahead brought its own kind of shadow. Draco paced restlessly while Harry watched him from the edge of the bed, finally breaking the silence.

"We need to start somewhere, or we'll just end up stalling all night," he suggested gently, nodding toward the desk where a quill and parchment were waiting.

"Easier said than done. There's nothing I can say that he won't see right through."

"You don't have to lie," Harry reminded him. "Just... leave out the parts he doesn't need to know. Talk about the project like it's real—say it's too important to leave halfway through. Living with this curse is like a project of its own."

With a reluctant nod, the blond sat down at the desk, smoothing the parchment as if it would calm his nerves. Harry took a seat next to him, offering quiet support. After a moment, Draco dipped the quill in ink and hesitated, then began to write slowly, each stroke of the pen careful and deliberate.

Father,

I understand this may seem unusual, but I'm working on a particularly complex potion in Professor Slughorn's class that demands consistent supervision.

Leaving it incomplete could risk not only a poor result but also an embarrassment I don't think either of us wants. It's a delicate potion and part of an advanced project that Professor Snape selected me for, personally. I wouldn't have made this choice otherwise.

Please trust that I'm making this decision with our family's reputation in mind.

Your son,
Draco

When he finished, Draco put down the quill and read over the letter, his lips pressed together in a thin line. There was a hint of pride there, but more so, a fear of what lay ahead.

Harry leaned over his shoulder, scanning the letter. "That's... really well done, actually. It sounds formal enough to keep him off your back but still true."

A mix of relief and doubt flickered in his expression as Draco glanced at the boy. "You think he'll buy it?"

"It's believable. And if he doesn't believe it... well, you're here. We'll face whatever comes next."

Though the Slytherin nodded, he couldn't completely shake the worry in his eyes. "You're far too optimistic about this, you know."

"Maybe," Harry admitted with same answer as always, a smile touching his lips, "but someone has to be."

With the letter folded and sealed, they headed to the owlery together, each step echoing in the stillness of the castle. The cool air seemed to heighten their nerves, and for once, neither said much as they reached the high stone room filled with rustling feathers and sharp eyes in the dark.

Draco chose an owl, one of the sleek, gray family owls that had arrived earlier. It watched him impassively, awaiting its duty. With a sigh, he secured the letter to its leg, his fingers lingering as though reluctant to let go.

And as the owl took off into the night, Draco watched it disappear into the dark sky, his gaze following it until it was nothing more than a distant dot. A weight settled in his chest as he thought of the potential consequences awaiting him.

Harry placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Whatever happens, you're not alone in this. We're in it together."

"I know." A shaky breath left Draco's throat.

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