"Dear Draco."
"Oh dear," she murmured. "I should stop reading this right now.... but then, voyeurism is what drives these sorts of stories, so let's get on with it."
"I know all about it."
"Ah, good opening line, Harry." Hermione nodded in approval. "Gets the reader interested and makes him - or her, in this unfortunate case - want to read more."
"I admire the way you can put on such a strong and nonchalant expression all the time. It reflects strength of character. However, these sorts of problems can't be avoided. That is to say, I know your father abuses you."
"WHAT - he spoils him rotten!"
"And I know he inflicts the sort of scars that don't go away so easily, but time will help. I want to help too."
"This is not a love letter! this is an invitation to a psychiatrist's office! HARRY!!"
There was movement at the next bed over. "Who are you talking to - have you got Harry Potter in here?" asked a sleepy voice.
"Oh, put your glasses on - I'm just.. reading a letter."
"A love letter from Harry Potter?"
"Er - well, yes. it is."
"Hermione!"
"Go get dressed!" Hermione snapped. Nosey friends disuaded, she turned back to the letter.
"You see, over these past few years I've become very fond of you despite our outward quarrels. I want to fix things. I don't want to let him hurt you anymore and I don't want us to be enemies anymore. Please let me help you. I have things to say - words that cannot be written - feelings that can't be expressed with the quill - please meet me at the astronomy tower Tuesday at midnight."
"For tea and crackers," grumbled Hermione as she inspected the signature. It was indeed from Harry. "This is utter rubbish - good thing Malfoy didn't get it." She paused. "On the other hand, it's probably for the best that I pass it on to him at breakfast."
---
Breakfast was noisy again, but at least there were no food fights. A slightly more serious fight was brewing: the minute Hermione sat down, Harry scowled at her.
"Hermione, if you were jealous of my affections for Draco, all you had to do was say something."
"What are you talking about?" Hermione looked from Harry, whose expression revealed nothing, to Ron.
Ron pouted. "I'm not talking to him anymore." He pushed eggs around his plate absent-mindedly. "The toast is stale too."
"Hermione! What's this about me sending you love notes!!?"
"Oh! Did you hear about that already?" she chuckled. "No - really, we need to talk. Hedwig must have put your letter to Malfoy on MY BED!"
"WHAT!"
"It's addressed to 'my beloved' - perhaps she made a mistake?"
"No. I told her specifically to take it to HIM!"
Hermione sighed. "Perhaps she decided it would be in your best interests if he didn't receive it!" She produced said letter from her bag. "Have you READ this? it's terrible!"
Harry stared at her in horror. "I can't believe she read my letter!"
"I can't believe you read my letter!"
"How can you think his father abuses him!?"
"He's gone mad," grumbled Ron from behind a spoon of porridge. "You should have heard him going on about Malfoy's Veela lineage this morning..."
"Of course he does!" Harry ignored Ron. "That's why Draco is so tragic - tragic and beautiful." He sighed for effect.
"I say we take him to Madame Pomfrey. He's sick." Ron said.
"Ah," Harry brightened. "That might be a good idea - Draco will find strength in himself if he has to comfort me while I am ill and in need of love! Then he will recognize his true feelings for me!"
"How caring he will be in sympathy for me - how beautiful he will be in love with me - how dazzling white his teeth and hair-"
"No sense of adverbs OR parallel structure.." Harry grumbled under his breath. He noticed the confused silence around him. "But, er - the hospital plan - yes, that's a last resort, I think - self-inflicted injury is never fun. Except of course in the angst-filled, suicidal respect."
"I'm not working with him in Care of Magical Creatures," Ron said, wide-eyed with sincerity. "Malfoy can have him for a partner, that's what I say."
"Oh, you're a good friend, Ron."
"Not talking to you."
"Hey Harry," said Hermione suddenly. "Didn't you say you sent Hedwig out with three love letters? - I only got one."
---
"Uh oh...""Plan 2: Ask Dumbledore for Advice."
After Charms class (Charms with Hufflepuff), Harry had stopped by Dumbledore's office. Now he was having tea and biscuits with the headmaster and making innocuous conversation.
"Harry," said Dumbledore finally, "I know you should be in potions class right now..."
"His eyes are twinkling merrily."
"Quiet - they always do that." Harry thought to himself. He was concentrating very hard on not appearing to be having a conversation with himself.
"Did you have something.. else to talk about?" Dumbledore asked.
"Yes, actually."
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "About Sirius Black? Or dementors?"
"Er.. well maybe in a little bit - first I wanted to - really, I needed to tell someone about my deep-abiding love for Draco Malfoy."
Dumbledore was silent.
"That is, I don't know what to do, and you're the wise, most powerful wizard in the land-"
"-and you have twinkly eyes!"
Harry coughed. "And you have lots of 'life experience' - whatever that may be-" Dumbledore's quiet stare made him conscious of his rambling. "That is, I thought you might be able to help me," he finished hastily.
Dumbledore was silent for another moment. "Well, Harry. Wouldn't you prefer to solve this sort of problem on your own? That's the joy and sorrow of gaining your so-called 'life-experience:' you don't know what to do."
---
"Damned twinkling eyes," Harry muttered to himself as he hastened to Defense Against the Dark Arts. "That was useless! Since when does Dumbledore refuse to help me?"
He reached the classroom and was about to open the door when he spotted Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle coming down the hall.
"YE GODS-" Harry was too busy staring to take issue with the nagging inner voice's choice of language "-IT'S HIM!"
"It is HE!" (Author stands corrected.)
"Potter talking to himself again -- and what are you staring at?" sneered Malfoy maliciously. Crabbe and Goyle walked up to Harry and stood on either side of him.
"Uh-" Harry blushed.
"WHERE'S MY LOVE NOTE WHEN I NEED IT NOW!!"
"Uh - HEY!" Harry had an idea. "Don't insult me, Malfoy - why don't we finish this fight - not during class time - meet me at the astronomy tower tonight at midnight!"
"So your friends can ambush me? I don't think so, Potter."
"But - It'll just be the two of us," he winked clumsily.
Malfoy scoffed. "WORSE STILL! Now get out of the way or I'll be in trouble with that shabby Lupin git." He motioned to Crabbe and Goyle, who combined their weight to slam Harry into the stone wall. They entered the classroom.
"He's so beautiful when he's angry - besides he got the message, I could tell from the way his steel gray eyes sparkled with righteous indignation and interest. MAYBE he got one of the other love notes!! TONIGHT HE SHALL COME!"
"Shall is only used in first person," mumbled Harry, trying to adjust his glasses as he recovered from the attack.
"Whatever! - when he comes we won't do anymore talking!"
"That's the spirit."