Dear Mr. Potter

Chapter Forty

"Alright! That does it!"

Harry looked up at his red haired friend as Ron came storming down the stairs into the Gryffindor Common room.

"What does it, Ron?"

"That bloody bastard of a thief, that's what!" Ron came to the bottom and didn't care that most of Gryffindor was there as well as he raged. "That bastard stole my favorite scarf! I've only got the two and he nicked the best one! It was as soft as a baby's bum, that one!"

Hermione quickly took out her notebook and jotted down the specifics. Yes, she did indeed look like a detective.

"That makes fifty items, all told. Some as small as a pair of mittens and the biggest was a quilt that George, a Hufflepuff, had from his Great Aunt." Hermione tapped her finger to her lip in contemplation. "It's very odd."

"No! It's bleeding criminal, is what it is! The loon should be locked up!"

"Harry," Hermione said, ignoring Ron's tirade. "Have you or Draco experienced any thefts in the past three weeks? Anything at all gone missing?"

"Um, no," Harry said. "None at all, Hermione. Sorry."

Hermione scowled. "That's peculiar. We now have confirmation from the last prefects meeting that the Slytherins have also experienced missing items. That means you two are the only ones not affected."

"Oh, well, maybe Draco lost something," Harry added. "I mean he's got more clothes than the Queen. Something could have gone unmissed."

"That's true," Hermione said as she stared at her notebook. "Also, it is only the two of you in that room. I doubt anyone would be able to traipse in there and take something without being noticed."

"No, that would be pretty difficult," Harry agreed.

"Well, whoever it is ought to be drug out into the street and hexed!" Ron seethed. "That was my favorite scarf!"

"Oh Ron, just wear the other one for now," Hermione said distractedly. "Somewhere there is a large pile of clothing and bed linens. It'll turn up sooner or later."

"Um, hey!" Harry said, standing up from the settee he had been sitting on with Hermione. "Draco said I'd better be back by now. So I better go." He started to make his way to the portrait.

"Harry, when did Draco start putting you back on a curfew?" Hermione asked with her brow scrunched in dismay. "Has something happened? Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine, Hermione," Harry said as he backed towards the exit. "He's just been a bit uptight lately. Probably worried about the term finals, yeah?" Hermione understood that and her face returned to calm.

"Oh, well, then. Just tell us if anything goes wrong, alright?" she called out.

"Of course, Hermione. Night, Ron. Night everyone." Before he heard the returned farewells, Harry was out of the door and trotting down the stairs. He silently made his way to Draco's room and slipped in the door. Waving his hand, the torches sprang to life. Harry glanced into the dark bathroom. Once he was sure Draco was still out, he slipped through the door out to Draco's private garden.

Harry had been quite happy to discover this little treasure one day. It wasn't a particularly large garden but it was very pretty and had a small gazebo in the back part of it. There were no other ways into or out of the garden except through the door into Draco's room. Harry glided through the small scattering of snow that had managed to get into the protected space and entered the quiet gazebo. The small enclosure was kept at a constant comfortable temperature due to a charm placed in the very fiber of the structure. Harry had spent many nice evenings and mornings out here reading, studying, or just getting away for a bit. Draco did not come out here, saying that the gazebo was trite and had no real architecture to it and was an atrocious eyesore. He had attempted to strong-arm Dumbledore into having it removed but the headmaster had been quite pleased to tell Draco that bad garden decorations had nothing to do with being a rare magical being and that Draco would have to lump it. Draco had not been pleasant to be around that afternoon. But Harry had been quietly delighted at his defeat in the matter.

Harry walked past the small stone bench and table and made his way to the back, which was hidden behind the half walls. Kneeling down, he pulled his bag off his shoulder and opened it. Digging deep, he found what he was looking for. He slowly pulled out the beautiful green scarf that Mrs. Weasley had bought Ron as a gift for becoming such a strong and respectable young man. Rubbing it against his cheek, Harry sighed in contentment and then placed it on the top of the pile. Then, carefully, he rearranged the heap of materials until they were exactly as he wanted them to be. Almost in a petting motion, Harry ran his hands over the top of the pile, touching each piece. Did he really have fifty now? He hadn't stopped to count them, but he trusted Hermione's notes. Seeing a bit of shiny material, Harry poked his invisibility cloak back into its hiding spot under the bench.

Standing up, Harry grabbed his bag and headed back out into the garden and into Draco's room.

"Out in that garden again, Harry?"

Harry was startled by the voice and found Draco by his armoire, taking off his Quidditch gear. Harry quickly shut the door and walked further into the room.

"Yeah, it's peaceful out there," Harry said.

"Gryffindors get too much for you, then?" Draco smirked. He frowned and stopped fumbling with the laces on his leg shields. "Come here and get these damn things off of me."

Harry came over and began undoing the knot Draco had successfully made of the laces. Finally getting it loose he began removing them. "Why didn't you change in the locker?"

"Because that prat Basil was going on and on about team work and strategy and how much we needed to beat the Cravenclaws on Saturday. I told him that the best strategy was to beat them into the ground and stay the hell out of my way. Then I left." Draco threw off his gloves and placed them with the rest of his gear on the armchair by the door. Once he was down to his underpants and vest, he turned and faced Harry.

"Fancy a shower? You can wash my back," the Slytherin offered with a smirk. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Oh yay for me," he deadpanned. Draco came over and leaned in close to whisper in his ear.

"You do my back and I'll do you," he whispered suggestively. Then suddenly he pulled back with a look of disgust. "Circe, Potter! Were you wrestling with Weasley up there? You reek of him!"

"Oh, um, we were sharing a settee," Harry offered. Draco walked away towards the bathroom.

"Ugh, well first we'll see about fumigating you," he said from inside the tiled room. Then popped his head back through the doorway with a sly look. "Then we'll see what else we can do with the soap."

Harry smiled and happily followed.