Catch 22 (Harry/Draco)

Whose Bright Idea Was This, Anyway?

Harry rubs his forehead. This all sounds extremely complicated, and if fifth year was any indication, N.E.W.T.s are bound to be occupying most-if not all-of Harry's time. They haven't been back for a week and already he has a mountain of Charms, Potions and History homework to finish, not to mention Quidditch practice three nights a week.

'You have ten minutes before class is dismissed,' McGonagall adds after answering some other questions about the 'letter project'. 'I suggest you use that time to respond to your letters.'

There is a great amount of parchment-shuffling and quill-scratching as the class follows McGonagall's advice. Harry stares down at his letter again. With a furtive glance to his left, he notices that Ron's letter is almost a full paragraph-certainly enough to prompt a response. He can't see Hermione's letter, because she has already begun a reply, and it is nearly half a foot long already.

Am I the only one that thinks this is a stupid idea and a complete waste of time?

What am I supposed to say to that? Harry thinks. It's their very first letter and already his correspondent is annoying him. Though he supposes his correspondent got the shafted end of the broomstick; having to write the first letter was probably even more frustrating. Feeling slightly less irate with this in mind, Harry bends his head low over a fresh sheet of parchment and begins to write.

I don't think so. I know my homework queue certainly agrees with you.

He pauses, quill poised over the parchment. He suddenly realises that he doesn't even know if his correspondent is a boy or girl. It is even harder than talking to a complete stranger; a stranger you can see, and can tell whether they are male or female, and you can judge their reactions and expressions and tone of voice. What do you say to someone who you know so little about?

A drop of ink falls from his quill tip to the paper, leaving a small splotch. This is going to be more difficult than he thought. Well, there is one thing he knows about the person... the one and possibly only thing they have in common.

So, I guess this means you're #22, too. I guess that doesn't really mean anything, except that we'll be seeing a lot of each other's scrawling for the next couple of months.

Hmm. It isn't the most elaborate of letters, but it will do. He's-sort of-prompted a conversation, if you can possibly even have a conversation about the number 22.

'Time's up,' McGonagall says just as Harry rolls up his answer. 'Pass your letters forward. On a final note, I daresay I hardly need describe the sort of punishment any student or students found trying to sabotage the project will receive. Consider yourselves warned.

'Be sure to place your replies in the envelopes provided, with your numbers on the inside, Mr Longbottom,' she reprimands as Neville begins to write on the outside of his envelope.

: : :

Harry does not receive an answer for almost ten days; it's been so long he's almost forgotten they have to keep these correspondent letters going. He is deeply engrossed in his History of Magic essay when Hedwig lands on top of Hermione's stack of books with a letter in her beak.

'Oh, Harry, your letter is here.'

'What?' Harry says, looking up. He has ink smudged on his fingers and really hates everything to do with Chimeras and the illegal trafficking of their bodily fluids. 'What letter?'

Hermione points at the letter still in Hedwig's beak. 'McGonagall sends all our correspondent letters in red envelopes, so that we know not to open them unless they're for us.'