It Started With A Note

Harry Potter hadn't gotten any letters from Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, or Ginny all summer. At this point, he would have been overjoyed to receive a letter from Draco Malfoy --- his school rival --- telling him how horrible he is. He was beginning to think that Dobby wad tampering with his mail again.

It was currently the summer after second year. And, for the third time in Harry's school career, a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was hired at Hogwarts. The position seemed to be cursed, every teacher that got hired left by the end of the year. For example, Quirrel had Voldemort on the back of his head, and died at the end of first year. Lockhart was full of himself and tried to obliviate Harry and Ron using Ron's broken wand. The spell backfired and hit him instead, making him lose all his memories. What's next? A werewolf?

Harry was pulled from his thoughts by a tap on his window.

The burnette jumped up, wincing --- the lashes on his back from Vernon's belt being pulled open again --- and bolted to the window.

As he opened it, a brown owl hopped in and held it's leg out so Harry could untie the letter attached to it. Well, it was more like a messily-written note than a letter. It read:

Harry,

This might sound weird, but I need you to to the rundown old playground down the street from you at around 9:30. I'll explain everything there. Please, keep an open mind.

Harry was confused. This mystery person didn't mention their name. It could be a trap.

'I can't live any worse than I do now.' he thought bitterly. 'I mean, Moldyshorts can't kill me when he's dead, right?'

Harry decided to just go down to see who this person is, at the very least. He only had to wait a half-hour before his beat-up alarm clock showed it was 9:27 and he decided he should leave.

Harry wandlessly unlocked the locks on his door, his wand was locked up, along with his trunk and other 'freakish' items, and left Number 4, Privet Drive and walked towards the playground. Much to his astonishment, a blonde, grey-eyed boy, about Harry's age, tackled him in a hug upon his arrival. With a yelp, they fell to the ground.

"Malfoy! Geroff!" Harry whisper-yelled, not wanting anyone --- muggle or magical --- to see the exchange.

Draco's face flushed, and the tips of his ears went pink. Harry thought he looked rather cute like that. Draco pulled himself to his feet, he held out his hand to pull Harry up, who took it and stood as well.

"Sorry Harry, I didn't think you'd show up" Draco apologized, using the burnette's first name to try and gain his trust and to encourage him to do the same.

"It was kinda hard to ignore my curiosity when you don't put your name on the letter, Draco." Harry responded seriously, catching on and using the blonde's first name.

"I thought if I didn't put my name you would be more likely to show up."

"I guess that makes sense."

"Anyway, the reason I asked you to come down here is because, well, I- um... I've realized how rude I was being to you and your friends, and I wanted to apologize. All I wanted was to be your friend and the feud between the Malfoys and Weasleys has been going on for so long and I didn't know that you were already friends or I wouldn't have insulted Weas-Ron I'm truly sorry and, I understand if you don't want to, but, I think we should put our differences behind us and become friends." Draco stuck his hand out and smiled at Harry. Not His usual smirk either. No, a genuine smile. Harry knew how hard it must have been for Draco to spill his heart out to him, and Harry respected him for that. The burnette smiled back and shook his hand. Draco beamed and pulled Harry into a hug, and he happily returned it.

"Should we tell Ron, Hermione, and your friends through letter or tell them in person?" Harry asked the blonde. After all, they would probably still be enemies had he not done this.

"I think we should wait to tell them in person."

"That'd be the quite the shock for them to see us getting along after two years of hating each other's guts."

Draco laughed, "Yeah. Quite the shock."

"Sorry, I have to go. I don't want my relatives to notice I'm gone." Harry said, "Do you think we can hang out like this tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure. I don't have anything going on tomorrow. See you then!" Draco disappeared with a crack and Harry returned to Number 4. He was glad he wasn't entirely severed from the wizarding world, even if the only way of staying in touch was a Malfoy.

The next time Harry and Draco met up, Draco was practically vibrating with excitement.

"Harry! Guess what!"

"Draco, calm down! What is it?"

"MyfathertoldmethattheDarkLordneverwantedtokillyou!"

Harry blinked stupidly, "What...?"

"My father told me that the Dark Lord never wanted to kill you." He elaborated, "Or eliminate Muggles, Muggle-borns, and Half-bloods. The Dark wants to keep magic-folk and Muggles separated, integrate Muggle-borns and Half-bloods into wizarding society better and give werewolves the rights normal witches and wizards have."

"...this changes things..."

A vibrating noise from Draco's robes cut through the silence. He pulled out a small handheld mirror and tapped the glass. Lucius Malfoy's face appeared on the glass. "Yes Father?"

"Where are you? Wait, are you at a Muggle park? Get home. Now." The glass rippled and Lucius' face disappeared, leaving Draco staring at his own reflection.

"Sorry, I have to go. I'll owl you the next time we meet up. We can't meet here anymore."

"It's alright. I should probably head back anyway."

"Good-bye Harry."

"Bye Draco."

Harry entered Number 4 and got a punch in the nose from his uncle. Harry fell backwards onto the doorstep. He was dragged into the living room by his hair and thrown to the ground.

"Where the hell were you, freak?"

"Th- the park." Harry wimpered.

"And why did you think you could go there, hmm?"

"I- I needed t- to g- get s- some fresh a- air and-"

"Stop it with the stupid stuttering, boy!" Vernon bellowed.

"Yes, uncle Vernon" he said, forcing himself to not stutter, but his voice still wavering.

Vernon glared and left towards the kitchen. He reentered wielding a kitchen knife. He tore Harry's shirt off and shoved him back on the ground. Crouching down, Vernon placed the blade on the boy's back and carved one word into it. Freak.

Harry knew if he screamed, his punishment would only last longer. So he bit his tongue until it bled and only wimpered. The word was carved into his back nine more times, each carving deeper than the last, before Vernon was satisfied. He proceeded to pick up the scrawny boy and throw him into his coubord, fracturing his wrist along the way.

Harry hadn't slept in his coubord for almost two years. He thought they wouldn't put him in there again.

'I suppose I was wrong...'

Harry layed in the coubord all night, unable to get a wink of sleep. He found he had twice the amount of chores the next morning.

The word carved into his back haunted him for the next three weeks.

He didn't get a letter from Draco at all until the day before his birthday. It said they could meet on July 31 at the Leaky Cauldron.