Letters To Harry | Harry Potter

Chapter Five

 The summer didn't go too badly for Harry at first. All he had to say to the Dursleys was that his godfather was a convicted murderer who escaped prison and liked to check on him every now and then, and that seemed to help with things.

 He spent his time sitting alone in his room, silently reading through D.M.'s letters over and over again. There was the initials, the way they weren't afraid to say Voldemort and not just You-Know-Who. How could their parents 'not understand' if they wrote back and forth all summer? Unless it was the Malfoys.

 Was it even possible that Draco Malfoy was the one writing letters to him? It was true that Draco had offered friendship once, when they started their first year at Hogwarts. But Harry had refused; he knew the kind of person Draco was, and didn't want to be associated with someone like him. They had been enemies ever since.

 "It can't be," Hermione had said on the train. "Not Malfoy. What would he be doing writing all these letters to you?"

 "The only Malfoy would send Harry love letters would be if it was some kind of trick," said Ron. "It can't be Malfoy, Harry. This person seems too nice to a git like that in real life."

 "But it makes sense," Harry said, feeling sick inside. "The writer's initials are the same as his. They're not afraid to say Voldemort, either. Look." He pulled out the letters, all tied together securely so he wouldn't lose any of them. Read them. You'll see."

 "Harry," Ron patted his best friend gently on the shoulder, "You don't have to worry so much. When we get back to Hogwarts next year, tell him you don't want him writing to you anymore. Or I'll give him a piece of my mind, if you want."

 Harry shook his head. "If it is him, I have to confront him myself."

 "It seems possible that it's Draco," Hermione said, looking through the letters. "From what you figured out, it's certainly a possibility. But in these letters, this person writing to you sounds nothing like him. They were happy Gryffindor won the House Cup, and they don't seem to like Slytherin, either."

 "Well, he couldn't sound like his usual Malfoy self in his letters, could he?" Ron pointed out. "Harry would know straightaway."

 "Can we stop talking it about it, please?" Harry asked. "I...I don't want to think about it."

 Could it be? That was Harry would be stuck wondering throughout the summer. All through the aching of his scar and the trip to the Quidditch World Cup and staying with the Weasleys, there was always time for Harry to wonder if it was true.

 Draco Malfoy was at the Quidditch World Cup match between Ireland and Bulgaria that summer. Harry thought about confronting him about the letters, but couldn't bring himself to do it.

 "You want to go talk to him?" Ron asked him. "You know, if you're still worried about the thing with the letters. I'll go with you, and we'll give him a good talking-to."

 Harry shook his head. "No. I'll wait until we get back to Hogwarts. If it's true, we'll get to embarrass him in front of all the other Slytherins. Draco Malfoy, who hates Gryffindors and anyone who's actually nice, writing love letters to his enemy."

 Ron grinned. "Now, there's some good thinking you've got going on there, mate."

~~~~~~

 Far away from where Harry was staying at the Burrow, another boy sat alone in his bedroom. He looked at the letters Harry had written him, realizing it had really made him happy that Harry had written him back. He would be genuinely sad if Harry decided not to write to him anymore.

 The first time he had seen Harry Potter was the sorting hat ceremony. He was a small boy, and looked scared at what his fate would be when the Sorting Hat was placed on his head. There was something about him he liked then. Of course, he doubted Harry would remember who he was. After that sorting ceremony, he had always made himself scarce and tried not to draw any unnecessary attention to himself.

 If only he had a different name, he thought. He wanted to tell Harry who he really was, tell him everything. But he knew that if he heard his name, he would never trust him.

 He heard what happened at the World Cup, and had heard talk. Lord Voldemort would find a way to return. He wished he could think of a way to tell Harry, but how could he if he wanted to keep himself a secret?

 He sighed. He would have to wait and see what his fourth year would bring.