A Fluffy Little Olive Branch (A Drarry FanFiction)

Chapter Four

   "There you are," he cried in relief as the owl flew back through the door. "I was starting to worry you'd gotten lost!" After his best landing yet, the owl definitely gave him a scornful look, as if such a notion was absolutely preposterous. "Alright, I'm sorry," he apologised. "Please may I have my letter?"

The bird acquiesced and stuck out his leg. Harry hurriedly freed the note and unravelled it, but then had to apply a small enlargement charm as their chain mail had obviously gotten out of hand and bigger parchment was needed to carry on their conversation.

"Someone owed me a favour," the note started with a winky smiley face. "You might want to add some extra charms to your door when you leave for the night.

"Yes. We do know each other. And I don't think you'd really want me to come up and talk to you, let alone be friends, but I had to do something. We've never really gotten along, and that's my fault, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, for everything. I've always liked you Harry, a lot, but I was utterly useless and never knew how to tell you just how much. But when I saw this little fellow, all alone at Eeylops, I thought about how you didn't have an owl, and how much that would limit you just talking to whoever you wanted, and that made me sad. You don't have to talk to me, we don't have to talk again after this letter if you want. But you deserve to be happy.

"Having a new owl doesn't mean you have to forget your old one, I know she meant a lot to you. But you don't seem to really be living your life, and after everything you did to save those of us less worthy, you've earned the right to live the fullest life possible. You DIED for us, so please. Live for us too.

"I'll sign off now. I'm not sure you know who is writing this to you, and maybe that's for the best? Despite everything I've ever done, I do like you Harry. In fact, I might very well love you. But your light far outshines my own, and I wouldn't want to burden you with the trouble of being polite and acting out any kind of friendship. I will just be happy to know that you are reconnected to those you love because of this keen little owl, so please, keep him. Not for me, but for you. You deserve to be connected to the world, not shut away from it, and he just might help you do that.

You friend xxx"

"No!" said Harry out loud. "No it can't end there – who sent this!"

The owl looked up at him with sympathy, and stuck his leg out for the expected reply. Harry just looked back down at the letter again though, and re-read it several times. A niggling suspicion was forming at the back of his mind, but he couldn't fully put it into words. Perhaps he did know who was writing to him though, perhaps he knew exactly who his new little owl had been bought by.

"I've got a good guess," he wrote without any preamble. "I think I might know who you are, and-" he paused, quill hovering above the parchment. This wasn't the time to second-guess himself though, he had to be honest. "-I might not mind as much as you think. The war changed us all, we've all grown up. But we won't know until we try. Please, I want to talk. Harry xxx"

He almost took the kisses off several times, but in the end he shrunk the damn parchment before he could change his mind, and clumsily tied the note to the owl's leg. "Go, before I burn the damn note entirely," he begged the speedy little bird, who nodded his fluffy head and shot into the air.

He – and Harry was almost certain he now knew who the mystery person was – he loved him. He felt so confused if that really was the case, there was so much hurt and animosity to unravel, but Harry hadn't felt anything like that towards this man in years. He'd felt sympathy and even a touch of forgiveness from afar, but now, if he was right, he had a chance to get closer than he ever had.

If only the alarm hadn't sounded.

His head shot up as if the ceiling might take the klaxon back, but there was no denying it. A top level emergency had broken out, and Harry should already be running out the door.

He clenched his fists and let out a noise of annoyance, but that did nothing to wave off the crisis. So he made several more sounds of disgruntlement, grabbed his wand, and pelted out of his office, taking the time to follow his pen-pal's advice and throw up some extra locking and protection charms.

After several hours of gruelling pursuit and a number of hexes to the head that had been entirely too close for comfort, Harry trudged back to his office, slightly singed, pretty knackered, but mostly just eager to see what reply his owl had brought him.

Except, there was no owl.

Harry stood as the door swung open to his dark, empty office, and felt like his heart was being dragged down by an anchor. He hadn't realised until that moment how much he had been looking forward to the new note, to seeing the little ball of fluff hopping up and down on his desk, eager to see him return. Instead there was nothing, and Harry didn't know whether to shout or cry.