Cheers, Potter.

I couldn't help it.

Draco's POV

He'd been missing almost an entire day before I received his clearly panic-written letter. It amused me. The sentences were jumbled and rambled on about things that I didn't quite need to know but was happy he told me (like the fact that he and Charlie had had a heart to heart about their favourite dragons and then Charlie tackled him when he found out Potter had stolen one of their eggs. His handwriting gave away that he was nervous and I could see that when he was writing his quill had almost gone through the paper, but none of it mattered.

I couldn't have cared any less about his spiky and crooked hand, or his sloppy grammar, or the non-existent punctuation. Obviously I would berate him in my reply, but for the moment my head was swimming with every emotion available to me. All this because of two words, the first of which had been vanished... but badly, so I could still just about see it at the very end of the letter:

Love, Harry

He definitely hadn't intended on writing that word and the fact that he'd attempted to vanish it meant that there was no intention behind it, but it thrilled me nevertheless.

"Blaise!" I snapped, waking him in the armchair with a start, "Read this and tell me what this is.

"I don't need to read it to tell you it's a letter, Draco,"

"Okay Mr Smart-Arse, but what does that mean?" I thrusted the parchment towards him, pointing at the word that had me puzzled and he took it from me.

He stared at it silently for a few moments – too long for me to feel comfortable – and eventually said, "I think, now don't quote me on this, it's a term of affection,"

I snatched the letter back, "Oh you are no help at all."

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry but I think you know what it means,"

"Yes, but what did he mean? Was it deliberate?" I quizzed Blaise as he pretended to ignore me and opened his Astronomy textbook, becoming visibly more irritated by my presence.

"I don't know, Draco." Came his annoyed reply, finally throwing down his quill and turning to face me, "If he crossed it out rather than just vanished it he probably wanted you to see it. But if it was a genuine mistake and he didn't rewrite the whole letter because of that one word then he probably doesn't care about you at all."

"I know! That's what I-" I paused, realising the sarcastic tone the second point had been made in, "You're really helpful. I'm glad we're friends." I said, matching his attitude.

"Just write him back, mate. You'll find out soon enough anyway, he'll back from the Weasleys' in a few days."

That was one of the things I most loathed about Blaise. He had an ability to care very little about a lot, which made him infuriatingly impartial and brilliant at advice. Unfortunately, to add insult to injury, it was one of the traits I most liked about him so I couldn't really complain about it (and I do so love to complain).

So, without telling Blaise that he was right, I headed off to my dorm and started to compose a letter.

Harry,

Tell Hermione I appreciate the thought. I know it was her that told you to write me; you'd never have thought of it alone. Also tell her I miss her sensible brain and I want her back immediately.

I hate that I am writing this, just so you are aware, and resent the fact that I am doing it but I thought you'd probably fall in to some sort of gay panic if I didn't.

Anyway, have a not-terrible Christmas, and come back soon.

Draco

"You're not actually going to send that are you?" The voice of my small friend manifested behind me.