Then He Opened His Mouth

Disclaimer: I don\'t own them and I don’t want to. I’m just borrowing them for a bit, but they will be returned, no harm done. No financial gain expected.
Rating: PG-13 to start, working to R later
Pairing: HP/DM
Summary: Harry Potter has a “despise-hate” relationship with Draco Malfoy. Slashy goodness will ensue, so if you don’t like slash, please don’t bother reading.
Feedback: Please read and review, but no es, es, please!
A/N: Thanks to a wonderful beta and a good (and reassuring) friend, Chark, your ideas and help are always invaluable to me. Extra thanks to Laura for brainstorming, what a help you\'ve been! Any errors left behind will be mine alone. Thoughtdicadicated by parenthesis. WIP centcenter>Chapter Four
Someone To Watch Over Me


Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were relatively quiet during the entire trip back to Privet Drive, and I hoped that once we got to the houhe she silence would not escalate into something more threatening. After the kind of year I\'d just experienced, I just wasn\'t in the mood to fight with them anymore. Apparently they felt the same, because as soon as we arrived home they kept out of my way and left me to my own devices.

I was feeling a bit tired after the long trip home, so I quickly carried Hedwig to the small extra bedroom upstairs, then I went back down for my trunk. Placing my trunk at the foot of the bed, I took a good look around the room and was happy to find that the window was no longer covered over or even barred. I\'d gotten into the habit of star gazing from my dorm window, and was glad I could continue to do so over the summer. It had been very relaxing for me to sit in the window trying to find the constellations and other celestial bodies in the night sky. Anything that would keep me from thinking too much. After recent events, I juelt elt that I was unable to deal with my thoughts at the moment.

And so the summer began. My days were spent taking care of Aunt Petunia\'s flower garden, which I actually enjoyed doing. I\'d come to find solace in working in the summer sun, the warmed earth becoming a friend who kept all of my secrets for me. When I felt like talking about losing Sirius be the the veil, I could talk to the plants and flowers, and allow my tears to water their roots. They never judged me, accused me, or told me to get over it. Goodness knows I\'d already spent more than enough time doing that myself. Never once did they tell me I was weak for feeling the loss of Sirius so keenly, and for that I was grateful. I guess that my work in the garden also held another benefit for me; Aunt Petunia never asked me to do any other chores aroune hoe house.

So my routine was pretty much the same day after day. Wake up by eight o\'clock, eat a light breakfast then head outdoors to plant flowers, pull weeds, and water the garden. Some days I would cut the grass, other days I would haul bags of fertilizer to nourish the flowers and plants. By one o\'clock in the afternoon, I\'d be ready for lunch and would head inside to have a sandwich, crisps and a glass of water. After lunch I would shower, then head to my room to keep up with my schoolwork (Hermione would be so proud). As long as I did not flaunt anything \"magical\" in his face, Uncle Vernon pretty much left me to do whatever it was I had to do in order to keep up. Six o\'clock would find me back downstairs for supper, after which I would help Aunt Petunia with the clearing away. She never asked, but I really didn\'t mind doing it, and she seemed glad for the help.

And on it went. I would get an occasional owl from Hermione or Ron, but I just wasn\'t in the mood to hear about all of the fun they were having with their families, so I lightly skimmed over their posts and owled back an appropriate response. I found myself a bit lonely, but honestly, I\'ve always been a bit of a loner anyway.

About two weeks into the summer break, I had just finished gazing out my window, trying to recall the different stars and constellat I\' I\'d learned about. It was at times like this that I wished that I had paid a little more attention in Astronomy, but the knowledge I did have was decent enough to have recognised The Summer Triangle, consisting of the stars Vega, Altair and Deneb, which left me feeling damn pleased with myself. So it was just around midnight, or maybe a bit after, and I was getting ready to get into bed when I heard an insistent scratching at my window. I put my glasses back on and peered out into the moonless sky. There on the window ledge sat the sweetest little heart faced owl I\'d ever s It It definitely wasn\'t Pig, or any owl I\'d ever laid eyes on, and it had a parchment attached to it\'s leg. I wondered who on earth would be sending me a post at this time of night? I stood up and unlocked the window, raising it slightly to invite the bird inside.

She hopped through the window and cocked her head expectantly at me. I reached down and untied the parchment, then motioned her towards the perch in Hedwig\'s cage. She fluttered up inhe che cage and settled in on the perch, so I reached into Hedwig\'s treat bag and offered her a snack, which she nibbled on contentedly. Then I turned on the little bedside table lamp and settled into bed to read the letter that was written in such an elegant script.

Tell me, Harry, what is it you think about when you\'re all alone in the dark?

Glenn deWedlour

I stared down at the parchment resting on my lap. There was nothing about the paper or the string used to tie it to the owl that revealed anything about it\'s author. Glenn deWedlour? I\'d gotten this cryptic letter, and at that moment the only thought going through my mind was \'what the fuck?\' I looked over at the little owl resting comfortably in Hedwig\'s cage. She showed no signs of departing soon, and it became clear that who ever had written this letter was expecting a response right away. I got up out of bed and walked over to my desk to compose a reply. I just had no idea what I was going to say. Hell, I had no idea why I was even thinking about replying. I closed my eyes and thought for a moment, then decided that the direct approach might be the best.

Glenn?

Who are you?

Harry

I carried my response to the little owl and attached it to her leg. Having fed her another treat, I sent her on her way out into the dark summer night. Then I headed back to bed and turned out the light, but I had a feeling that it would be a long time before I fell asleep.

My feeling turned out to be spot on. Two hours after going back to bed I was still tossing and turning, and not one bit closer to coming up with the identity of my midnight owler. I\'d just closed my eyes in an effort to get some rest when I heard the familiar tapping on my window. My mystery writer was certainly persistent, if anything. I turned the light back on and opened the window to allow the little owl to enter. After I\'d removed the parchment from her leg, I scratched her head and told her to go rest for a bit. I didn\'t bother to go to the bed to read, I just unrolled it then and there and began reading.

Dear Harry,

I happen to know that there\'s more to Harry Potter than meets the eye. You are so much more than just who they want you to be. But I\'ve seen past the scar, I know the real you, now it\'s time that you know the real me. So then, what are you thinking about, there all alone in the dark?

Glenn deWedlour

I\'d started shaking, and it felt like the wind had been forced out of my lungs. I couldn\'t imagine who would play this kind of a sick joke on me. I quickly picked up a parchment and quill and composed a response.

What the fuck do you think you\'re playing at?

I sent the little owl back out into the night, hoping that this would get a rise out of him, if in fact it was a him. Considering theed ted that the reply had come, I thought that the author must still be awake, so I didn\'t even attempt to go back to bed. Instead, I paced impatiently in my room, glancing between the window and the parchments in my hand, glad that my relatives were heavy sleepers. Between the owl and my restlessness, a lighter sleeper would have woken sooner. At least I hadn\'t had long to wait for the next message.

Dear Harry,

I\'m not playing. Playing is for Quidditch, and I can assure you, Quidditch is the last thing on my mind.

Yours,
Glenn

Well, at least Glenn deWedlour seemed tow mew me. I just wasn\'t sure that I wanted to know who he was. That would be like admitting that I was interested, and after only three very cryptic messages, I still wasn\'t ready to go that far.

It wasn\'t that I was put off because this was someone who was claiming to be a male that was interested in me. Ever since my first and second year crush on Malfoy, I\'d pretty much come to grips with the idea that I was attracted to other boys. The kiss I had shared with Cho Chang last term pretty much solidified that fact for me. I\'d just never noticed any other boys at Hogwarts showing that kind of interest in me. That\'s why I felt that I was the object of someone\'s sick sense of humour. But until I knew for certain, there was only one thing for me to do.

I put quill to parchment once again that night.

Dear Glenn

Why are you doing this to me?

Harry

The response to that message was the fastest I had received that night.

Dear Harry,

What am I doing to you? Am I scaring you? Please believe me, that is not my intention.

Your Glenn

Your Glenn. Was he mine? Hell, how was I supposed to answer that when I had no idea who he even was? This last post seemed sincere, and I guess it was enough for me to send another response just as soon as I\'d read his message. His poor owl was going to be worn out before sunrise, I knew that much.

Dear Glenn

I believe you don\'t wish to scare me, I just don\'t know exactly what it is that you want from me.

Waiting,
Harry

I was kind of scared to find out what his next response would be. I looked over at the small Muggle clock on my bedside table and noticed it was nearly five am. I had a feeling that there would be no more sleep for me this night, but at this point, I really didn\'t care. I was quickly becoming fascinated with Glenn deWedlour, and I was anticipating his next owl. True to form, I did not have too long to wait. The familiar little owl tapped anxiously on the glass, and once again, I let her in.

My dear Harry,

That\'s easy to answer. You. All of you.

Anticipating your reply,

Glenn

Oh my god! I was shaking as I read his message, and the only thing that kept running through my mind was \'whywhywhywhy!\' My mind racing, I sent him the only response that came to my mind at that time.

Glenn?

Why?

Yours,
Harry

I gently ruffled her feathers, and let her nip lightly on my fingers before attaching the message, bidding her a safe trip. And then I counted the minutes (or was it seconds?) until his reply came back to me. It was the longest letter he had sent yet, and although part of the words were not exactly his, there was no mistaking their meaning.

Dearest Harry,

Believe it or not, I had anticipated your last question for me, so this reply to you has been written before I ever began to owl you. I want you to know that I\'m not always so great with expressing my thoughts or feelings, and I want to make sure that my thoughts and feelings in regard to you are crystal clear. What follows are lyrics to a song that is a very well-known Muggle standard, and I think that it does a good job of speaking for me, at least at this stage in our correspondence. Don\'t ask me how I managed to track down this song, as it wasn\'t easy, let me tell you. What I need you to do now is to trust me, keep an open mind, and believe that what I\'m telling you is the absolute truth.

There\'s a sg olg old
Says that love is blind.
Still we\'re often told
\"Seek and ye shall find.\"
So I\'m going to seek a certain lad I\'ve had in mind.
Looking ev\'rywhere,
Haven\'t found him yet;
He\'s the big affair I cannot forget -
Only man I ever think of with regret.
I\'d like to add his initial to my monogram.
Tell me, where is the shepherd for this lost lamb?

There\'s a somebody I\'m longing to see:
I hope that he
Turns out to be
Someone who\'ll watch over me.
I\'m a little lamb who\'s lost in the wood;
I know I could
Always be good
To one who\'ll watch over me.
Although he may not be the man some
Boys think of as handsome,
To my heart he carries the key
Don\'t you tell him, please, to put on some speed,
Follow my lead? Oh, how I need
Someone to watch over me.

Please don\'t answer me right away. Take a few days to think of the song and make it a part of you, as it has become a part of me. Then let\'s spend this summer getting to know each other better. That\'s all I\'m asking of yo
T
They say that the eyes are the windows of the soul, Harry. I\'ve gazed into your windows, and have seen only beauty.

Yours Always,
Glenn

As I finished reading what I knew would be the last message for the next few days, I found that for once in my life, I was at peace with myself. sun sun had just begun to rise on the horizon, wrapping me up in the warmth of what was promising to be a very interesting summer.

tbc