Chapter Text
Harry was really sick of having a fractured arm. Not just literally.
He stared at the hospital wing. He'd memorized it by now, really. Each tile of stone on the floor, every window, each column. He'd even counted each and every grill on the window.
But here he was again, now staring at the Marauder's Map in hopes to see someone maybe skipping class or wandering around in a secret passage. He sat up, looked around, and whispered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
He watched it open fully, looking at it intently. Hermione was in the library, Ron was in the common room with Neville, and Ginny was in the courtyard.
Great. That was everyone he cared to look for.
That was what Harry told himself as he looked for Draco on the map. He easily spotted Draco in the qudditch field and sighed. Even his rival was doing something boring!
"This is no fun." Harry whispered to himself as he looked around.
Umbridge was gone, but in times like this, Harry had a slightly guilty want for her to come and disrupt this boring and bleak day. Maybe a dementor? Though he'd already taken care of that at the beginning of the year…
"Contemplating life, Harry?" Harry heard a voice, and he immediately jumped up. he shoved the map into his lap and looked over.
"Luna!" He said quickly, laughing at his own behaviour. "…why're you here to visit me?"
"I'm not." Luna said bluntly, with her normal smile. Harry frowned. "Okay…?"
"You seem upset." Luna said, pulling up a chair to sit next to Harry. Harry laughed.
"I thought you said you're not here to visit me…?" Harry mumbled as Luna nodded.
"Anyway," She said, shifting. "You seem upset. Why?" She repeated.
"I uh…well, I've really got nothing to do." Harry admitted, smiling shyly.
Luna paused, her hand on her chin as she thought for a moment.
"…Have you ever tried writing?" She asked softly.
Harry's eyes widened as he laughed. "Me? Write? Luna you really must be mad!" Harry laughed.
Luna stayed blank faced. "No, really I think you should. Like, write a letter to someone about your day. Or maybe vent? It'll make time pass, I promise." She mumbled, standing and wandering around before walking out abruptly.
Harry was still laughing as he waved Luna goodbye.
Though, as more time passed, the more writing seemed appealing. He was here alone, and bored out of his mind at that.
So, after a few more moments of laying in bed and complaining about being bored to himself, he sat up. He grabbed his bag and rummaged through it. He bit his lip as he looked for everything, though once he got it he was pleased.
He grabbed an envelope, a quill and ink, and grabbed his potions notebook. He ripped out a piece of the yellow and aged lined paper, slightly wincing as he torn the bottom left corner of the paper.
Harry grabbed his wand, then set his bag down with the journal inside it. "Papyrus Reparo." He said, flicking his wrist as the paper fixed back into a neat rectangle. No more torn edge. Harry set his wand down and grabbed a book from the stack Hermione had left at the foot of his bed. A giant list of charms and how they work.
He set it in his lap and set the paper down. But once he was set up, ink and quill in the corner, paper in the middle, and envelope and wand off to the side, his mind fell blank. He let out a groan of frustration and sighed.
"I won't address it then. Just…write like I'm writing to a pen pal of sort!" He said to himself, ignoring his slight pause as he spoke out loud to himself…without anyone around. He might've been going mad.
He picked up the quill and started writing down his thoughts, almost absently.
First Harry wrote about how he hated that his arm was fractured. Then how he hated the hospital wing, then the potions he had to drink. That then reminded Harry his hatred for Snape, then how Slughorn was barely a teacher. Then he complained of how Ron smacked while eating, how he hated inconveniences, and how he missed the adventure that Umbridge brought but hated her.
The last thing he wrote—having covered the paper front and back surprisingly quickly—was how he wanted every flavour jelly beans. He finished the letter and signed it, then sighed in relief. He'd enjoyed that more than he thought he would.
He stuffed the paper in the envelope and wrote 'from Harry' on the front. He even doodled a small version of himself, though he lacked the art skills for it to be recognizably him. It was close enough.
Harry smiled at it, looking at the envelope and sighing. "One more day and all of this mess'll be done." He stretched. He shoved the envelope into his bag, crushing it slightly as he went back to moping. Really, he'd thought nothing of it.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Harry sat in the common room, writing and making up all his missed work. He'd hoped he could spend his free time flying or hanging out with his friends, but he sit stuck on the common room couch writing about the importance of pronunciation when it came to spells.
"Harry?" Hermione said from behind the couch he sat on. "Yeah?" He asked, rubbing his eyes as she smiled. "I'm going to bed. Ron's already sleeping. You'd better stop this at a proper hour and go to sleep at at least 1." She said as Harry laughed.
"I know, I know. I won't stay up too late. I've only got….a few more paragraphs to finish. Won't take me long at all." Harry insisted as Hermione frowned but nodded. "I'm glad you're finishing your work. Did you read what I brought you?" She asked as Harry smiled awkwardly. She flicked his ear and walked off to her dorm.
Harry sighed, resting his head on the table as he looked to his bag. He looked around, before pulling out the letter. He looked to the crumpled envelope and smiled, then he looked to the fire. "It was nice." He mumbled fidgeting with the opening flap. "I send you off with good will." Harry mumbled, as if speaking briefly at a funeral. He was just about to flick it into the fire when he heard a loud crash, followed by a loud—"Draco Malfoy!"
Harry's eyes widened as he stood. "Draco Malfoy??" He huffed, throwing the envelope into the fire as he rushed to the noise. As his back turned, the paper travelled through the fire in a quick flash of green. Harry, however, hadn't noticed.
He found it was just Neville. He'd fallen asleep on the study tables. He had awoken from a dream of Draco pantsing him, which Harry couldn't help but laugh at. "It's not funny, really. I was bloody mortified." Neville said as Harry gather his stuff, shoving it into his bag. "I bet." Harry said as the two walked to the dormitories together.
Draco Malfoy's room was a private one. Dark green walls, a giant four poster bed that he had needed a lot more help with than he'd like to admit, and a basic desk and common area. It wasn't too fancy, just a common dorm with only one person in it. But, one person could make anything look big.
Draco sat at his desk in the dark, a candle lighting his homework directly and a fire lighting the room ambiently. He sighed. Sure the homework was easy, but writing an essay about common sense seemed pointless. Of course how you pronounce a spell is important!
He was almost fully done with the long paper when he heard a soft tap hit his floor. He paused, looking around his room to try and look for where the sound had come from. Or what the sound had came from.
Draco got up from his desk, pushing his chair in as he inspected his bed and window, his dresser and wardrobe. He sighed as he walked to the fire. But that's when he noticed a stark white envelope on his dark hardwood floors, contrasting.
He felt a little silly for not noticing such an obvious contrast, but he shook his head. He grabbed it and saw immediately in big chicken scratched letters 'FROM: HARRY'. He scrunched his nose and squinted at the envelope. He sat on one of the plush chairs by the fire, just inspecting the envelope.
It didn't look tempered with, and the words were the only thing on it. No wax seal or magic glow around it. It was just an envelope with text. Well, text and a crudely draw boy with glasses. "Whoever Potter was trying to make fun of with that drawing must've been quite ugly…" Draco mumbled.
He shifted the envelope around in his hand a few more times before he officially decided that Harry Potter himself had written him a letter. Though it wasn't addressed to him, Draco doubted Harry knew to address the reader.
So, with a slow elegant pull, he took the folded piece of paper out from inside the envelope and set it in his lap. He set the envelope on the table beside the chair and opened the folded paper. It was covered in sloppy handwritten text, front to back without a proper spacing sequence. "Golden boy needs a golden tutor." Draco said to himself, smirking at his own quip.
Draco read through it with surprising intrigue. Harry lacked big problems, but had many tiny things he'd complained about. Draco wasn't surprised by Ron smacking while eating. He laughed at Harry saying the prescribed potions he'd been given were "yucky and probably a form of magical torture before his time."
Draco read through it intently until the end, then stared even after he'd read it all. He bit the inside of his cheek and looked. Harry Potter had written to him, of all people. Why though? To speak of his problems?As if Draco were Harry's personal journal!
Draco almost felt offended, if not for the immense amount of intrigue he had. "Very well." He mumbled. Harry Potter had written to Draco as if they were strange pen pals, and Draco would pry.
He set the paper down by the envelope and went to his desk. He looked through his desk drawers, taking out a dark green envelope, a wax seal set with the malfoy crest on it, a black piece of paper, and a white tub of ink. He dipped his quill and slowly started writing.
Harry Potter,
Why do you write to me? If just to share your deathly boring life, I say why me again?
But, to answer you back, I find everything you say slightly interesting. You've recovered from your fractured arm, so it does not matter to me how you feel of it currently. I find the hospital wing boring as well, but I don't quite hate it. I find the potions revolting, but I like to brew them myself. Snape was important, Slughorn is slow. Umbridge was annoying everyone's senses, really. I also have no doubt the weasel smacks whilst eating.
Now, I must say your handwriting needs help. So does your grammar. But, I enjoy your stories. I have nothing to say to you without intent, so I ask;
Why are you writing to me?
Why did you use small paper?
Do you know how to address someone in a letter?
Have you tried having a tutor?
Write me back once you've answered these in separate letter. Thank you, Draco.
Draco wrote his signature smoothly and sealed the paper into the envelope with his family seal, before immediately throwing it into the fire. "Harry Potter." He whispered into the fire as the envelope burned away.