Chapter 7
It took them about half an hour to get to the area Hagrid had mentioned. Boy felt bad. The man probably could have gotten there in ten minutes, but kept to Boy’s pace. He’d apologized a few times, but Hagrid had assured him that it was fine.
“There ain’t no rush.”
Boy thanked him, the guilt easing some. Hearing a loud bark, he paused.
Now he understood why Hagrid started calling the dog ‘Bear’.
Bear was barking at a large tentacle that seemed to be taunting him.
It was playing, he realized, with the Giant Squid.
The tentacle was bobbing around Bear, but not touching him. Bear looked ready to pounce, his tail wagging. He let out a happy bark as he leapt onto the tentacle. The tentacle was wiggling until Bear slipped off.
Apparently, that was the whole game, Boy thought. From there, they just started all over again.
“Bear!” Hagrid called.
Bear stopped, head cocking to the side. Upon seeing Hagrid, he gave the tentacle a lick and ran over.
Licking Hagrid’s face all over, his tail continued to wag.
“Alrigh’, Bear. Ge’ down.” Hagrid started wiping the slobber off his face.
Doing as told, Bear put all four paws on the ground. He looked at Boy and gave a few sniffs. Bear approached Boy slowly, still sniffing. He let out a whine, nosing at Boy’s injured leg.
“Hi, Bear,” Boy said, patting the dog. “You’re about the fluffiest doggy I’ve ever seen.”
When Bear stood straight up, they were the same height. He let out another whine, and snuffled at his leg again.
“He can tell yer hurt.” Hagrid said. “Told yeh he was a smart one.”
Boy was impressed by the dog. “Alright, smart doggy. Would you like to stay with me?”
Bear’s head tilted. Sniffing and snuffling, he walked around Boy, as if appraising his worth. When he stopped, he used his muzzle to shift Boy’s sleeve out of the way.
And he bit down.
Terrified, Boy tried to pull away, but Bear wasn’t letting go. He could feel the teeth digging into his skin without breaking it open and the tongue laving at his arm. “Hagrid! Do something!”
“Ain’t nothin’ ter be done.” Hagrid said, sounding awed. “I din’t think he had magic. Full o’ surprises, eh, Bear?”
Boy didn’t want to hit the dog, but it wasn’t letting go. When he finally decided that he couldn’t do it, Bear let his arm slip out of his massive jaw. There were indents from his teeth, but he hadn’t drawn blood. Bear licked the ‘wound’ all over and the indents filled out, leaving a red mark. It almost looked like it had been tattooed into his skin. He gasped. “Did he do what I think he did?”
“Looks like yeh got yerself a pet, Little Mite.” Hagrid said happily. “He’s given yeh the familiar mark!”
Boy beamed. “So, doggy. You’re my familiar, now?”
Bear woofed, wagging his tail a mile a minute. He lowered himself to the ground and gently tugged on Boy’s cloak.
He didn’t have to lean down to pat Bear’s head, but Bear wanted something else. “Do you know what he’s after?”
“Can’ says I do,'' Hagrid replied curiously, scratching his beard. “I was on’y jokin’ about ridin’ him like a pony, but tha’ migh’ be it.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Dunno,” he said honestly. “Won’ know till yeh try, I s’pose.”
Boy felt stupid even considering it. He looked at Bear. “Are you trying to carry me?”
Bear woofed.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Boy stepped closer, wincing as he brought up his injured leg, and wrapped his arms around Bear’s neck as he rose. Shifting a little, he eased his grip. “Oh, Merlin!” He was sitting on a giant dog like a horse!
“Well done!” Hagrid brought his hands together in a loud clap.
“Do you really want to walk to the castle like this, Bear?” Boy asked, already preparing to climb down.
With one more woof, Bear happily trotted away.
“Bye, Hagrid!” Boy called out over his shoulder, bouncing along. “Thank you!”
“Yer welcome, Little Mite.”
“Alright, Bear.” Boy said, sitting up fully, keeping his hands in the soft fur. “It looks like we have an infirmary matron and some friends to scare.”
Bear barked in agreement.
Poor Madam Pomfrey nearly had a heart attack when he walked into the infirmary with Bear padding alongside him.
“I got a dog!” He said, smiling brightly. “He’s not a Grim, I promise. Just a really big dog. His name is Bear, but he answers to Cuddles as well.”
Her eyes were round as saucers. “Cuddles?”
Bear woofed, trotting over to her and licking her face.
“Oh!” She cried out.
“Bear, down!” Boy called, limping toward them.
Bear immediately stopped licking her and sat.
“Good doggy.” Boy said, scratching Bear’s head. He looked at Madam Pomfrey. “He let me ride him from the lake to the front doors, though he probably would have brought me all the way up if I hadn’t told him to let me down. He marked me with a familiar bite.” Pulling back his sleeve, he showed her the red mark.
"Oh my!" She exclaimed, gently brushing her fingers over the mark. "Would you look at that?"
"Hagrid said he didn't know that Bear was magical. I wonder what that means for him."
"Usually," she said, taking a seat. "The most common form of magic for a familiar is the ability to understand what their owner says, but only to a point. Some are able to apparate directly to the side of their owner, or they apparate their owner to their side. Some even have elemental affinities."
Boy looked at Bear curiously. "Can you do any of that?"
Bear woofed, wagging his tail.
"Okay," Boy said. "We'll take this slowly. Can you understand me?"
Woof and wag.
"Can you apparate to me?"
Woof and wag.
"Can you apparate me to your side?"
This time he gave a mournful whimper.
"That's alright, Bear. Don't be sad." He scratched Bear behind the ears. "How about elemental affinities?"
Woof and wag.
"Really?! That's amazing! Okay, is water your element?"
Whimper.
"Earth?"
Whimper.
"Fire?"
Woof and wag.
"Can you show me?" He asked excitedly.
Bear looked around, then made a strange sound in the back of his throat. He belched out a puddle of liquid fire and started rolling around in it like a puppy in mud.
"Up, Bear!" Boy cried, vanishing the puddle. Amidst all his splashing, one of the nearby curtains had caught fire.
Bear scrambled upright and sat at Boy's feet. He licked at the hand closest to him.
"It's okay, Bear. I accept your apology. Let's keep the fire stuff outside, alright? It's much more dangerous inside." Boy glanced sheepishly at the matron. "Sorry, Madam Pomfrey."
Bear licked her hand too.
"Are you hiding anything else, silly dog?" She asked, rubbing her knuckles under his chin.
Woof and wag. Bear huffed for a moment, then stepped back a bit. Suddenly, a pair of black leathery wings sprouted from his shoulders and a pair of short, black horns curved along his head.
"You can fly?!" Boy was astonished by his new friend.
Woof and wag, followed by the soft sound of his wings shifting. They snapped against the air, flapping faster and faster until Bear rose from the floor. All four paws tucked in as he circled over their heads.
Bear landed and got down on the floor like before.
"Is that another affinity or is it because of whatever breed of dog he is?" Boy asked the matron. "If I didn't know better, I'd think he was part dragon, what with the fire breathing and the wings."
Bear huffed, shaking his head, almost as if offended. He stood on his back legs.
"Two legs?" Boy wondered aloud. "Dragons have four legs. Wait, wyverns are similar to dragons and they're bipedal. Bear, are you part wyvern?"
Bear woofed and flashed his tail, which while furry, had a barbed end.
"So, you mean to tell me that my familiar is a part dog, part wyvern that goes by the name Bear?" Boy gaped.
Woof and wag.
"My goodness!" Madam Pomfrey gasped. "I've never heard of such a thing!"
"Me neither!" Boy proclaimed, excited to research his familiar. "Bear, you are a marvel."
Bear preened, letting his wings retract into his back and his horns slid back into his head. He just looked like a regular (huge) black dog again.
"I'm not sure he will need training, Harry." She said, still awed by the strange beast.
"I'd like to introduce him to Professor Flitwick. I figure that you and him are the best choices for Bear to come to if I need help."
"That's a good idea," she said kindly.
"You hear that, Bear?" Boy asked, ruffling his ears. "If I need help, you come get Madam Pomfrey. Okay?"
Woof! He nuzzled her fingers.
"Go on, you silly beast." She said, giving him a firm pat.
"Come on, Bear! Let's go meet Professor Flitwick and scare the girls!" Boy grinned.
Madam Pomfrey chuckled as they left.
Boy remembered the meeting with Professor Vector at a quarter after two. He was fifteen minutes late! Oh no!
Pushing himself, Boy hurried as quickly as possible to get to the arithmancy classroom.
Bear huffed and got down on the floor.
Boy bit his lip unsure, but climbed on his back nonetheless. "Careful with the stairs, Bear."
Holding his familiar's neck tightly, Boy squeezed his eyes shut until they leveled out.
"Alright, go left." It hadn't even occurred to him to find out if he knew directions, but Bear went left. Curious about his dog's knowledge, he told Bear to go to the fourth door on the right. He watched incredulously as Bear followed his instructions to a T.
"Alright, Bear." Boy said, climbing down. "This is the arithmancy classroom. We're going to chat with the professor. Can you sit by me until we've finished?"
He wagged his tail.
Boy pushed the door open. "I'm so sorry, Professor Vector. I was showing my new familiar around and I lost track of time."
"You finally got a support animal?" She asked. "That's good news. Come in."
"Come on, Bear." Boy said, pushing the door open further.
Professor Vector jumped at the sight. "You don't do anything halfway, do you?"
"No, Professor," Boy snorted. "I suppose not."
Bear stayed dutifully by his side the rest of the way and curled up on the floor as soon as Boy took his seat.
She summoned an elf for tea. "Now," she said, pouring the tea. "If you remember, as I'm sure you did, I told you that there was a staff meeting yesterday."
"Yes, ma'am."
"You were a major point of discussion, Mr. Potter."
"Me? Why?"
"Your academic performance, of course." She crossed her legs. "The school board cannot allow a student to take their NEWT's without first taking their OWL's, which is why you're stuck in the fifth year, rather than the seventh. The school board has decided that if you do well enough on the OWL's, you'll be able to skip your sixth year. It's a little known fact that the tests include information beyond what is taught for the year. It sounds unfair, but it only enhances the scores. If the advanced questions are incorrect, it doesn't go against the scores. That would be inappropriate. Instead, if there are enough of the 'secret' questions answered correctly, then the students can be placed in advanced courses when necessary. I believe that you could very well be moved directly to seventh year."
Boy didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to think. "Are you joking?"
At that, the professor laughed. "Education is not something I would joke about. Especially when the student in question is so gifted."
Boy blushed brightly. "Wait. That means I won't be with my friends anymore." He didn't want that. He liked having friends!
As if sensing his upset, Bear rested his head on Boy's lap.
"I don't believe that is the wisest way of looking at the situation, Mr. Potter." She told him. "It's not as though you'll never see them again. It will only be for classes. You'll still see them at meals and during your free time. I would be quite disappointed if you didn't put in your best work to stay with your friends. You wouldn't sacrifice your future, would you?"
He wanted to argue the point but didn’t say a word.
“You still have several months before you take the OWL’s. I want you to think long and hard about this, Mr. Potter.” She said sternly.
Nodding, he excused himself. Suddenly the idea of scaring his friends didn’t seem like so much fun. Having Penny, Olive and Amelia in his classes, he was pretty sure, was the only thing keeping him from being hexed when the teachers' backs were turned. Of course, it wasn’t only that having friends afforded him a little security, they also made it fun. He liked racing Penny in arithmancy. He liked when Amelia would ask him about why different plants would react with various potions. He liked how Olive would make funny faces when she was concentrating in transfiguration because it was something she struggled to enjoy. He liked when they tutored each other in their best subjects.
As he left the classroom, something hard slammed into him, sending him sprawling.
“If you’re not on the pitch at four,” Marcus Flint sneered. “I will personally make sure that you’re-”
Bear snarled at Flint, slowly stalking closer.
“What the fuck?!” Flint squealed, seeing what looked like a Grim about to attack. In his haste to get away, he tripped over his robes.
Bear was on top of him, growling.
“Bear!” Boy called. “Come here.”
From snarling and growling, Bear pranced to Boy’s side looking satisfied with himself. He licked Boy’s face and sniffed him all over.
“I’m not hurt, Bear.” He said, patting the beast’s neck. He waited until Flint had gone from sight to get up. His bullies liked to taunt him as he struggled to stand, so he didn’t do it anymore. Besides, Sir always took it as an invitation to continue, so he stayed down.
Bear gently bit down on the back of his robes and tugged.
Boy was surprised, but he realized he shouldn’t have been. Bear was a magical creature who had connected himself irrevocably to Boy. “You’re such a good doggy… thing. I really need to look up what you are. I don’t like calling you a thing. Until I figure it out, I’m calling you my doggy.”
Bear licked his face.
Boy giggled. “I’m so glad you agree.”
At first, the girls had been terrified, but learned of Bear’s love of cuddles and sweet nature and that was it. They were smitten.
For some reason, he didn’t ask for their help to find out what exactly he was. He told them, of course, but he wanted to solve the puzzle on his own.
He sighed at three thirty. It was time for him to head down to the pitch for practice.
Much to his incredulity, Boy was pretty much left alone. He was still the target of too many bludgers to be a coincidence but they weren’t openly taunting him or harassing him!
It was the best practice he’d been to yet! He was just happy that Bear hadn’t flown onto the pitch when the bludgers were so deliberately aimed at him. He didn’t want his housemates to know that Bear was part wyvern. They were wary enough of the ‘Grim’ that followed him.
Practices were becoming colder as November faded into December. His classes were still going very well and some of his professors had taken him aside and told him that they were going to be giving him more advanced work to do outside of class. The only two that hadn’t were Professors Snape and McGonagall. Boy didn’t mind the extra work, because they had exempt him from most of the regular homework. He was still doing classwork and all of his tests, but his homework was based on the reading for the sixth years. The professors gave him secondhand books that had been either donated or forgotten by previous students to keep up. His friends were scanning the books too, when they had time. Because of that, Penny was excelling in Potions in a way that left her stunned. Olive was doing better in Transfiguration and Amelia was embracing the information in Herbology, which was also boosting her Potions work.
When he’d told them about his (one-sided) conversation with Professor Vector, they were upset. It wasn’t because they wouldn’t be in class together anymore but at his less than excited feelings on the matter. They didn’t understand that he’d never had a single friend before Penny, and he certainly wasn’t going to tell them. They were already acting suspiciously when the Potter’s were brought up.
During that time, he also continued to grow his ‘salon business’. Penny had taken over scheduling when he became overwhelmed with requests from upper year girls from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff for Hogsmeade dates every weekend. The only time he refused was within an hour of his games. There had been a few, and he’d caught the snitch every time.
Because of this, he was finding himself with less and less free time as the term began to slip away. On the upside, he had about five whole galleons saved up on his gift certificate. He would use that money for Christmas presents for his friends.
When Penny had a date with Percy, he gave the certificate to Amelia. When Amelia had a date with Freya, he gave it to Olive, and when Olive had her dalliances (because she assured them that they were not dates) with a Raven called Roger Davies, Penny got the certificate.
He'd spent hours going over the store catalogues to pick stuff out for each of them. Much to his delight, he had spent a little over half of his money, so he still had two galleons and a handful of knuts and sickles. Even though Percy was slightly less than friendly, he found a set of quills.
It might not be the most personal gift, but Percy didn't seem to have any hobbies. The quills came with metal nibs so that he wouldn't have to worry about breaking the tips.
For Freya, who he really didn't know aside from being Amelia's girlfriend, he got a medium sized box of chocolates. They all had caramel filling, but were cloaked in strange flavors of chocolate. Amelia said the girl liked caramel, so he went with that.
Olive told him flat-out not to get anything for Roger. She said he was only good for his tongue.
"Kissing is gross," Boy said absently, flipping through another catalogue.
"Olive!" Penny hissed. "You should not say things like that in front of eleven year olds! What is wrong with you?"
Olive's eyes widened. "Sorry! I keep forgetting how young you are, Kitten."
"I've heard worse than you talking about kissing." He replied easily, not understanding why it was such a big deal.
Amelia pulled him close and petted his hair, knowing how much he loves it. "Alright, Kitten." She said, flipping to the beginning of the chapter. "Explain this. I've read this twice, and I'm still lost."
"It'll cost you," he said in a sing-song tone.
Her nose scrunched, but she dug around her bag. "You already worked your way through most of the chocolates, which is kind of disgusting, but I got these for you to try."
She held out a red lollipop.
"I'm not overly fond of lollies." He'd help her regardless, but he didn't want that.
"They're the same flavor as the chocolates."
His brows rose, intrigued. "Okay." Tugging off the cellophane, he popped the lolly in his mouth. "Mmm," he hummed around the sweet. Maybe lollies weren't so bad.
She made a face. "What is it with you and blood candy?"
Boy's jaw dropped, the lolly falling in his lap. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Did you seriously not know that the sweets you've been so obsessed with were made with blood?" Penny asked, astonished. "What did you think they were?"
"Not blood!" Boy shouted, scrubbing his mouth on his sleeve.
"Harry," Olive said carefully. "They're what you've been asking for them the past two months. How did you not know what they were?"
Boy was horrified. He started scratching his arms. "I don't know! I just-"
"Out!" Madam Pince rounded the corner, looking angry. "I will not have my library disturbed by-Harry?" She was shocked that he was the source of the shouting.
"I'm sorry, Madam Pince." He stopped scratching. "I should get back to my common room."
Bear picked up the knapsack Boy left behind and trotted along with him, offering silent comfort.
Why hadn't they told him what those candies were? They'd been giving him blood candy for two months! Why?
Boy froze. Why did he like them so much? Was this a part of the disease Ma'am and Sir were constantly going on about? Is that why a tiny part of him wanted that disgusting lolly, even after finding out what it was?
No. It wasn't his disease. And he wasn't going to ever touch that vile candy again. Ever.
Two days later, Professor Snape showed the Slytherins a sheet of parchment on the bulletin board. It was for students to sign if they were going to stay over the holidays.
Boy desperately wanted to sign it, but… should he? Jamie would absolutely be going back to the manor, which was good. But would Sir and Ma'am make him go along to keep up appearances? To make it look like they lov-wanted him 'home'? Despite never having been allowed to leave before this past summer, he couldn't really call that place home.
He needed someone to talk to, but who? His friends couldn't find out about the way his so-called family felt about him. He had already gotten into serious trouble when they wrote that blasted letter.
"And if anyone wishes to remain," the professor was saying. "Parental consent must be brought to myself or the Headmaster by no later than the thirteenth. That is next Friday, for those of you who don't already know. I will not tolerate excuses, nor will I accept late consent forms. Back to your studies." With that, the professor strode out of the room, robes billowing.
Not a single student signed up. Why would they? They probably have nice homes and nice families to go home to. Families who actually acknowledge their existence.
Boy sighed. He could tell that it was going to be another long night. It seemed that the closer the holidays got, the more antsy his housemates became. By now, he was used to staying up until midnight, despite having to get up earlier than the others. It was fine. He was getting almost six hours a night.
Honestly, he really only felt bad for Bear. There hadn't been enough space to turn something into a bed, and now the poor beast was stuck in there with him. Bear had gone from sleeping wherever he wanted to being squished into a broom cupboard.
"Why do you stay with me at night, Bear?" Boy asked the beast. "You could stay in the common room by the fire. Curl up and stay nice and warm."
Bear huffed and gave him a look that clearly said 'yeah right'.
"You could!" He said persistently. "I've got you all cramped in here with me. It isn't fair to you."
Boy could swear he saw the hybrid roll his eyes.
Bear carefully bit the collar of his transfigured pajamas and pulled him closer.
It was out of necessity, really. Bear took up a lot of space, so Boy had started curling up as best he could and used Bear's middle as a pillow. It wasn't the most comfortable situation, but he was fine.
At least when he was forc-when he went to the manor, he'd have his little elf mattress for a few weeks. It was a far cry from luxury, but in comparison it was practically extravagant.
A week later, a regal looking, pure white falcon landed gracefully in front of him. Boy let his spoon drop back into his porridge. The falcon held out a letter.
"Vasilis!" Draco called out. "I'm over here. Leave the trash alone. There's no telling what you might catch."
Boy looked up. Half of the lower years were staring at the spectacle. He glanced at the letter before daring to touch it.
Mr. H. Potter, Slytherin table, Great Hall, Hogwarts.
Well, it was definitely for him.
Just as he reached out to take it, he was covered in porridge, the large serving dish still hanging over his head. At least it wasn't scalding hot stew like last time.
The falcon screeched and lifted off the table to avoid the mess.
Why had he told Bear to go play outside? Oh yeah, because he was supposed to be safe from bullies in front of so many professors.
Doing his best to remain calm, Boy pointed his 'wand' at the mess and vanished it. He still wanted a shower, but he was technically clean. It would have to wait.
Eventually the falcon decided it was safe to deliver the letter, so it landed once again.
Boy was quick to take it.
He pocketed the expense feeling envelope to read in private. He wondered who it was from. People didn't write to him. Ever. The only reason he had gotten his Hogwarts letter was because they were standardized and sent automatically. While he hadn't gotten a good look, there was something familiar about the handwriting.
When he stood, an owl swooped down and dropped a letter. It never even slowed down.
This one was addressed to H. P., Hogwarts. Odd. That one went into his pocket as well.
He only managed to limp about twenty feet from the door before he was joined by Bear. "Come on, Cuddles," he said, scratching behind the dog's ears. "If we get to class early enough, I can read my letters before anyone else shows up."
Bear nudged him until he stopped walking. He lowered to the floor and waited.
Well, this would all but guarantee that he had plenty of time. "Onward, then, Cuddles." He noticed that he only called the dog Cuddles when he himself was feeling a bit down.
Leaning forward, Boy rested his chin on his familiar's head. He traced random designs in the impossibly soft fur with his index finger all the way down to the greenhouses.
He read the one that bore only his initials.
There's no need to come back here until summer.
---Lord James Fleamont Potter
Boy couldn't help it. He broke down crying. It didn't make sense. He had wanted to stay in the castle to begin with, but seeing in print how little his own father cared for him hurt. A lot.
He clung to Cuddles' neck desperately, sobbing himself hoarse.
Cuddles gave a sad whine, then began licking his face like crazy.
Boy was startled by the odd behavior and pulled back. "Wh-?"
But he kept licking.
Quickly, he realized that Cuddles was giving him an excuse to wipe his face as students started filing in. "Good doggy," he whispered, making a show of getting rid of the slobber (and his tears).
Penny laughed at their antics. "You know, I think I finally figured it out, Buh-Harry. That monster sized dog chose you so that he could eat you. He's just biding his time. Those aren't kisses. He's making sure you taste good."
"Is that what you're doing, doggy?" Boy asked his familiar in a silly tone. "Are you making sure I'm sweet enough to eat?"
His joke question was met by a yip and a tail wag.
"Told you," Penny smirked.
It was clear to Boy that Cuddles knew he needed cheering up.
Professor Sprout happily went over what they were doing for the day and had them split into groups of two or three.
He and Penny stuck together at the table next to Amelia and Olive. While they were all close, Penny was his closest friend.
The same was true for Olive and Amelia. They were closer to each other. It worked out perfectly. No one was ever left out.
"So why did a Malfoy write you?" She asked out of the corner of her mouth.
Boy's brow knit in confusion.
"The pretentious falcon. It belongs to Lord Malfoy." She said, rolling her eyes.
That's why the handwriting looked familiar. It was the same as his letter from the board of education.
"I haven't read it yet." He shrugged, going back to his own Burning Gelphrey plant. It sank its tiny fangs into his middle finger and he was very glad to have the protective dragonhide gloves.
She sketched the basic outline of the Gelphrey and directed him to adjust it this way and that. "Why didn't you open the letter yet?"
"I'll get to it later," he said, turning the bulb downward so she could detail the sketch.
"So… you'll tell me later?" She asked, grinning. Her grin faltered as she eyed the plant. "Why is it turning orange like that?"
"Wh-?" He gasped in alarm. "Get down!"
Before she could react, Boy yanked her arm and pulled her under the table.
Professor Sprout cried out in shock as his familiar ate the ticking time bomb that is the Burning Gelphrey. "Spit it out!"
Breathing a sigh of relief, he got out from under the table. "It's okay, Professor. He's got a fire affinity. It won't hurt him. Do you know what made it try to throw fireballs in December? It's supposed to be hibernating!" That hibernation was the only reason they could study them safely. Or, it should have been safe.
"All right everyone!" She said loudly. "That's enough for today! Please leave your Gelphrey's where they are and head back to the castle. You're dismissed!"
There was still forty minutes or so left of class, but if her plants were defying nature and starting fires, then no one could blame her for having them leave.
Boy headed for his cupboard to read his letter from Lord Malfoy.
Dear Mr. Potter,
As is customary, I have written to you to determine whether or not you wish to attend the Yule celebration at Malfoy Manor, as you have yet to respond to the invitation. Please send your response no later than this weekend, so that final preparations can be made with an accurate accounting of the guests. In addition, please add whether you will be attending with a chaperone, or on your own. I do hope to see you there, as does my wife. We will await your reply.
Kindest regards,
---Lord Lucius Abraxas Malfoy
How did reading this letter hurt so much more than Sir's? Was it because Lord Malfoy actually wanted to see him, even when his- when Sir clearly didn't?
Wait, what invitation?
It made no difference. He was going to accept.
There was still a little time left until he had to get to class, so he quickly penned a short note.
Dear Lord Malfoy,
I apologize for not acknowledging your gracious invitation before now, as I had not received one. It would be wonderful to attend such an infamous affair, and I am quite looking forward to it, as well as meeting your lovely wife. I will likely be attending alone, but I will need to confirm such arrangements with my parents.
Many thanks,
Harry E. Potter
He still had no idea what the E stood for, but since Lord Malfoy used his middle name, Boy would use his middle initial.
He would wait until after his last class of the day to send the note. He had never been to the owlery, nor had he ever sent mail, so he’d have one of his friends show him.