WE NEED EACH OTHER [DRARRY]

CHAPTER TWENTY : LETTERS CREATE MATTERS

"Fine," I mumbled. There was no other way.

Astoria smiled and retreated back to her seat. I sighed and looked out of the class to clear my mind. A group of girls walked outside the corridor, giggling about something. One of them slowed down, looking right at me before waving sweetly.

I recognised the face, but couldn't seem to remember the name. In response, I raised my hand in a small wave. The girl's smile widened, and she blushed furiously. When the girl disappeared from my sight, I remembered it was Natalie Harris, the sixth year— the one who had grabbed my hand to ask me a question she never got to ask.

I sighed again, realising Astoria was probably right about girls wooing me. In that case, Astoria would try to own me until we wed.

A small part of me hoped that maybe things would change, but the chance of that happening was becoming slimmer and slimmer. It was bound to happen. It was almost like it had already happened.

Should I be happy about it?

Harry's POV

The sunlight is blinding. I blinked, awake groggily. With a yawn, I grab my glasses and clumsily put them on. Glancing around, I checked the sofa for Malfoy, who had gotten his own blanket, but there was no sign of the blond anywhere.

I wasn't surprised. Malfoy kept him to himself after the incident. It suited us both well. I glanced at the sofa again, thinking about how Malfoy would get back pain from sleeping on it too much.

After freshening up, I changed into formal clothes. I put the sock on my left foot but found the right sock missing. As I looked around, I saw it lying beside the couch. I had no idea how it went there, and I leaned to pick it up.

After grasping it, I tried to stand up, using the sofa as leverage. Before I had fully stood up, I noticed a piece of crumpled parchment underneath the couch. It was under the sofa, so I ungracefully fell onto my belly again, stretching my arm to reach the parchment.

It was fresh, only a few days old as it seemed. It was scrunched up quite ferociously. I carefully peeled it open without ripping it.

When I saw the familiar slanting handwriting, I registered it was Malfoy's.

Merlin knows how he manages to make his handwriting look so perfect and neat.

In the back of my head, something nagged. You shouldn't read it... it was scrunched for a reason.

But the curious part of my mind wanted to read. So, after glancing around, I began to read the parchment, my eyes running over Malfoy's precise lettering and formality:

Dear Mother,

I hope Father and you are doing well. I'm doing fine myself.

You can tell Father that I have been trying to keep up with Astoria. She is good company. She never leaves my side and is always there when I finish class. It's like she's part of me now, which I suppose she will be soon enough. I'm trying to adjust to it. It's proving to be quite the challenge. You know that I like my space.

Well, on a good note, I have settled at Hogwarts as much as I could have. But, Mother, to tell you the truth, I can never fully fit here. I don't belong here. Everyone here knows it.

The classes have been, well... bearable. Sometimes good, if I'm lucky. The students are cooperative, at least. I'm trying to adjust, especially with Potter being my partner. He is trying his best. Well, I think he is. Honestly, it can be pretty hard to tell through the many glares he gives me. Most of the time, it's quite difficult to coordinate. And I don't know if we ever will be able to. We are different. He's all business. It's like he knows what he is to do here. He has everything planned out, unlike me. I'm just a silly inconvenience.

Mother, just look at me. Who am I? What am I doing here? Why do I even bother with all of this? It's pathetic, really... I'm a lost cause.

You do understand— I never wanted to do this. Right? I never wanted to come here because I knew what would happen if I did. I see it on their faces, especially in Potter's bloody eyes. They blame me all the time. It's either hate or sympathy. I despise it. I despise it all.

They're looking for some excuse to dump all their sorrows on, blame someone for their misery, and well, they have been presented with a fucked up death eater. Someone would think that they would think twice before spitting out cruel things? It's quite ironic. Really. I used to be the same, Mocking people about their muggle heritage just because I could, and not considering how none of it was their fault...

They are doing the same, targeting me for something I couldn't help. I'm getting the taste of my own medicine.

And I absolutely hate it.

I hate this. I hate being called a death eater. I hate to see that look on Potter's face every day. I hate to look at myself in the mirror. I hate myself. I hate my entire fucking life-

I cut off sharply, my hand trembling slightly.

That was one hell of a letter, and it still went on. But I couldn't bear to read anymore. I fold it in halves, then in quarters. I didn't know where to keep it. I couldn't just leave it lying around like that. Nor could I keep it in the drawers or the shelf.

I hid it beneath my blanket. That was the last thing Malfoy would touch. So, I carefully slipped it in, feeling my hands tremble and my heart pound.

////Sooo helloo!

Publishing a chapter after a loooong time :)

I hope i didn't keep you all waiting.

Progress is happening? I guess :/

Ooh and also, I've now published this book on Ao3!! 

I'm really excited :D

Anywaysss, I hope you guys enjoyed!!