Current mood:	sleepy
Entry tags:	hp

Title: Lonely Letters
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Challenge: contrelamontre's Letters Challenge. 1 hour 16 minutes
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Draco writes letters. Harry doesn't write back.


It's been months since I've last seen you. You left suddenly. Without warning. The same way you always do. I doubt you have ever considered informing me of your departure, or the time of your return. You never do. I can't say that it upsets me. You would leave, and I would wait. You would return as if nothing had happened and I wouldn't broach it. It was our tacit agreement.

I wrote you every time you left. You never wrote back. I didn't expect you to. I wrote because it reminded you that I was still where you left me. I wrote you because it reminded me that you were still mine. I had doubted you even received those letters. Then I found them hidden in your dresser. Every one of them. So I continue to write to you.

It is my birthday today Harry. I was looking forward to your present. You better make this up when you return.

I don't miss your presence at my party. You were never here for any of my previous birthdays. How can I miss something I never knew? Besides, you wouldn't have come anyway. Mother hates you. You hate her too. She blames you for Father leaving as well. I don't see the harm. Father always left whenever he pleased. Just like you.

Mother caught me writing to you today. She was furious. She packed my clothes and banished me from the Manor. She bought me this little flat in London and locked me in. She said she wouldn’t let me let me return to the Manor until I realized that I should leave you. It's not as if I can leave you, Harry. You're the one that's not here.

It's not bad here. The interior decorating is shot to hell but there's this woman that brings me my meals. She does my bidding. I send your letters through her. I don't like her but she's useful. She fetches me everything I require. Perhaps not everything. Certainly not you.

I tried painting the walls today. Their plain surface is terribly dull to stare at. I only painted half of one wall though. I didn't feel well. I think there was something bad about the food I ate the previous night. I'm going to yell at that girl whenever she comes up again.

I was severely scorned for trying to paint the walls. Not by the girl. She couldn't even look me in the eye. But she came by that afternoon. She screamed once she saw the my half-colored wall and ran off to fetch Mother. And Mother wasn't pleased. Foolish girl. She won't be so silly next time. I'll assure that.

Snape came by to visit today. It was lovely. I've forgotten what it was like to have company that didn't glare or flinch at my every move. He invited me to this ceremony that Dumbledore is holding in your honor. I'm not surprised. I inquired it was odd to have a ceremony without your attendance. Snape fell silent. Then he turned the subject to idiotic students that couldn't even brew a No-Failure Potion. You were listed.

Mother came by to check up on me every two weeks. I asked her for a few days to attend the ceremony. She refused bitterly. I took out my anger on the girl. I threw every meal she handed me. Now my half-painted wall is crusted with dried foods on a mix of brown and white. At least there's more to stare at now.

Weasley came by to visit me today. Shocking. I admit I gaped openly for at least a few seconds. Only a few. I don't know why he came by. He didn't say anything. Just stood there like an idiot, expecting me to break the awkward silence. Don't scowl, Harry. I can tell you are. I did break the silence. I asked him if he has heard anything from you. He said no. I asked him why he was there. He said that he found my birthday present in your room last week and thought he would bring it over. I would have appreciated it more if it came from you. But you're not here. I haven't opened it yet. Even if you didn't wrap it. I won't open it until you return.

I gave my letters to Weasley this time. He was here and far more reliable than that stupid girl. I suspect she probably confiscated the previous letters I gave her. Mother would ask that of her. But Weasley gave me a funny choked look and asked exactly how he was supposed deliver these letters to me. I stated patiently that there was an address on the front of the envelope. He hesitated and the reluctantly agreed. He left shortly afterwards.

I wrote you another letter after he left. You're mine, Harry. I have proof. It's on the table drying right now. And I won't stop writing until you return. So I can open my present. I settle myself in bed and entered the subconscious world with the last image of a piece of parchment and a ring box on my desk.


In the little house twenty-three kilometes away, Ron Weasley was lying in bed awake. He was wondering how he was going to do with the envelope that said:

Harry J. Potter
Little Whinging Cemetery
Surrey

A/N: I wrote this in a hurry. I really need to be studying right now. I'm sorry for any grammar and spelling errors. I'm sorry for my notorious jumping around in tenses. Also sorry for that lack of canon in this.