A Change of Heart

Chapter Twelve

Harry had just finished pacing his room again and had sank into his bed, feeling drained. There was no news from anyone, he had a hearing to attend to and there still was no news on Voldemort. Harry wondered if he'd dreamt that Voldemort was there on the evening of the Dementor attack. Was that only two days ago? It seemed so long.

Harry thought he would even settle for a meeting with Voldemort, just so he could be certain he was not imagining things. He snorted. The letter from the ministry which told him of the hearing on August twelfth was real enough. A faint tapping at the window had him out of the bed and at the window in a flash. Had his friends finally replied to him?

His hopes fell as he saw an unfamiliar owl outside. Maybe another ministry owl. That only made his heart sink further. What did the ministry want now?

He opened the window to let the owl in. It was an eagle owl that looked vaguely familiar. But before Harry could figure out where he'd seen it, it had dropped a letter on his table and had soared out again.

Harry stared at the letter. The handwriting too was vaguely familiar. He frowned suddenly. He remembered the owl. It belonged to the Malfoys. He had seen it at Hogwarts, bringing sweets and letters to Draco Malfoy. He picked up the letter with some trepidation. His heart was beating fast. What was Malfoy writing to him for? Or did the letter contain some jinx or curse?

He looked at the handwriting that certainly looked familiar. He was trying to remember when he had seen Malfoy's handwriting when it stuck him. It was not Malfoy's handwriting after all. He had seen this handwriting in his second year, in the diary. Tom Riddle's diary. When it had written back to him. There were slight changes, but it was, unmistakably, the same handwriting.

His insides went cold and he dropped the letter back on the table. Voldemort had written to him? Why? Was this some kind of trick? And how did the owl find him? How did Voldemort know where he lived? Should he send a letter to Dumbledore, telling him Voldemort is probably with the Malfoys in their house?

He was still angry with Dumbledore, but he knew to keep an information like this could cost lives. He sat down on his writing table, trying to ignore the letter as he thought about what to write. What was he to write anyway? If Dumbledore asked why Voldemort would write to him, and send a letter with an owl Harry was bound to recognize, so carelessly revealing his whereabouts,  what answer did he have? But did he need an answer? He was not answerable for Voldemort's actions. But it did seem like a convenient trap for Dumbledore that Voldemort was using Harry to spring,

He decided to do nothing, and went back to bed and lay down, staring at the ceiling. But the letter weighed on his mind. And, he was curious as to its contents. Was it just a blank piece of parchment, Voldemort so certain that he would write to Dumbledore without ever opening the letter that he did not even bother to put anything in it? Or did it contain threats or requests for help as before, just to nonplus Harry and make him less suspicious?

He sighed as he got up. He had to know what was in it.  No one else was writing to him anyway. His friends were not even replying to his letters. Why shouldn't he open this letter? After all, Voldemort could have harmed him, Mrs. Figg and Mundungus Fletcher the other night and didn't. It was unlikely that the letter was harmful.

He opened the letter and read
"How are you?
Tom."

Just that. He read the words again. Tom. Voldemort seemed to have forgotten his grandiloquent alias choosing to sign his real name.

But at least, Tom had asked him how he was. Which was more than everyone else had done. For a supposed trap, Tom certainly knew what to say to make Harry feel better and even safer. Of course, Harry would not be in this mess if not for Tom. He tore the letter up, threw the pieces to the dustbin, and flung himself back on the bed.