A Whispered Confession Can Change Everything

Chapter 10

He’d actually been fairly bored all week, quickly settling into his new home and deciding there wasn’t much to do here. Of course he was quite frank with Pansy, telling her everything and describing his room and of course his wicked violin. He played it every day, spending hours just losing himself to his music. What he didn’t know was the staff of Hogwarts had discovered his playing quite by accident and more than once they would stop what they were doing to listen as he played slow, sad melodies that enchanted them to their very soul.

With Hermione he’d been a bit more reserved. He made positive comments about the pictures she’d sent of her home and neighborhood and inquired about the objects he could see that he had no knowledge of. The next day a second owl greeted him at breakfast, he recognizing Potter’s snowy owl anywhere. He’d completely forgotten about his pen-owl assignment and carefully grasped the parchment held out to him. He unfurled it, frowning to see it utterly blank. The Golden Boy must be having him on. About to crumple it up in disgust, he froze as writing starting to appear.


Read this alone.


Draco considered not doing so for a second but he was just too intrigued. And even if he was a sneaky Slytherin he was still a boy full of curiosity. Finishing off his breakfast, watching as Potter’s owl flew away, he walked briskly out of the Hall before running up the stairs and straight to his room. Closing the portrait behind him, he grabbed his quill and sat down.

D: Who is this?

H: Scared Malfoy?

D: You wish.

H: Who do you think it is? Give you a hint: I’m the Boy You Love To Annoy. I know you know who this is. This idea actually came to me after a little incident in second year courtesy of Tom Riddle. I have a duplicate parchment and anything you write on this will be sent to me and I can do the same thing back. You have no idea how carefully my relatives watch me.

D: Why? Afraid you’ll do something heroic.

H: In spite of what you may have heard, my relatives don’t like me and they don’t like magic. And I swear if you mock me again I will hex you in the autumn.


Draco raised an eyebrow at that. Potter sure was touchy about sarcasm. He’ll have to remember that. His summer was going so well, wouldn’t do to have something good overshadowed with the threat of a fight with Potter when it ended. Even if he did love to antagonize the brunette he just wasn’t feeling like his old self lately. Sighing to himself, deciding to play nice and keeping in mind what Albus had told him. He now understood the difference between honesty and brutal honesty.


D: Touchy, touchy, Potter. It was sarcasm. Learn to embrace. I learned it from Pansy and have been charged with the task of passing it on to all I come in contact with. Even Albus can tell the difference.


His eyes widened as he watched the ink fade. His message sent. He hadn’t meant to write that last part but words seemed to flow beyond his control. In a way he had eagerly embraced this new situation with the Headmaster but he’d always tried to be formal with the man around others. But it was too late now.


H: Alright, I concede so long as you weren’t serious. And sorry, but I don’t like talking about my relatives.

D: Me either.

H: I sympathize. Oh, where did you learn to write like this?

D: Like what?

H: Your penmanship. I’ve never seen anything like it.


Draco thought very carefully before responding. He didn’t like talking about his past, for obvious reasons. But Potter had been there, heard some of the worst parts of it, and had remained silent amongst his house. Maybe he could be trusted.


D: My father made me practice six hours a day since I was four. A Malfoy must always show poise and superior intellect and penmanship is a sign of breeding...or so he said.

H: You don’t agree?

D: I’m not sure what I believe anymore. Oh, and Granger sends her best I’m sure.

H: You’re having me on. Since when have you spoken to Hermione?

D: I didn’t speak to her...I wrote to her. She did me a bit of a favor.

H: Hermione Granger? My Hermione did you a favor?


Draco felt his temper spike a bit. The insult, tease or not, was clearly implied that he wasn’t worthy of such things. He’d been perfectly civil and that was uncalled for.


D: Good day, Potter.

Firmly, he turned the page face down and left his room.
***
Scowling, Draco kicked the side of the castle, glad for his steel toed boots as he swung around and leaned against the wall. He’d worked out a compromise with Albus, switching the blasted sneakers for them. The boots were much more comfortable in his opinion. He sighed and tilted his head back, sliding down the wall until he was resting on the floor dejectedly, “Draco?”

Smiling slightly, “Hi, Sev.”

Severus tilted is head, arms folded as he contemplated the boy on the floor. Raising a single eyebrow, “Are we taking after the Gryffindors now with their lack of posture and undignified poses?”

Shrugging a little, “I’m annoyed right now...I’ll play Slytherin later.”

Murmuring to himself, “I see...with anyone in particular?”

Sighing, “Potter.”

Snape snorted, “You’re surprised?”

Wrapping his arms around his knees and resting his chin on top, “I suppose not. Perhaps I had higher hopes than...oh, I don’t know. I really thought the Headmaster’s idea would work.”

Onyx eyes narrowing a bit, “What idea?”

“He chose the assignments for our pen owls. I suspected that he teamed myself with Potter so we might get along.”

Rolling his eyes, “The Headmaster has a lot of-...” Severus cut himself off, realizing what he was going to say would be a very bad idea. This situation had the potential of the Headmaster being his godson’s guardian for many years. The worst idea would be for choosing a side or insulting the Headmaster, even subtly. It would put both Albus and himself in a difficult position should Draco choose to exercise it and pit them against one another. And the boy was a Slytherin. He would take advantage, “The Headmaster’s plan has merit but I think you and Mr. Potter have a lot of animosity between you. Such matters take time to mend.”

Draco looked up, looking wary, “Do you really think so or are you just placating me?”

Smirking, “Catering to your delicate sensibility, of course.” The blond made a scoffing sound as his godfather passed.

***

Harry thumped himself on the forehead, sighing to himself and putting away his quill. After ten minutes it was obvious Malfoy was done with him, at least for now. He thought back to what he wrote and he could see how Malfoy might find it insulting although it hadn’t been his intention. Just a tease, a way of including him in. But maybe Slytherins took everything differently, cause God knew Hermione almost always took him literally unless she could see the slight grin to let her know he was kidding.

He sighed to himself, hiding the parchment under his bed before laying on top of the threadbare cover. He had about an hour before he’d have to start dinner and now with no one to talk to. It had been nice, really, to have a voice to the outside world, even if it was a Slytherin that hated his guts. But he felt a slight frown settle on his face. Was it true, though? Did Malfoy really hate him or just not like him? Or maybe Malfoy didn’t really even know him, because he certainly didn’t know much about the blond Slytherin besides his snide comments and an afternoon confession that would never cross his lips.

“Boy! Get down here!” Harry sighed to himself, gave Hedwig a smile, and left his room.