Disclaimers:  I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters.

Notes:  Harry gets a letter from an unknown source.  Then he talks with Ron and Hermione about the nightmares he’s been

Shadows of Truth

Part Three

Harry sat in the Great Hall, moving his breakfast around on his plate with his fork.  He just wasn’t all that hungry.  He was still
nauseous, that dream continuing to haunt his mind.  Now and again, he spared a discreet glance over at the Slytherin table,
trying to keep an eye on Malfoy without making it obvious.  Just last night, he had been bandaging the other youth’s injuries.  
Malfoy still looked rather tired, but his act of normality was very good.

Ron’s voice broke through the haze that had settled over Harry’s mind.  It was tinged with concern, a deep worry.  “Oh, eat
something, Harry!  You won’t do yourself any good by starving yourself.”  Ron said, giving Harry a quick jab with his elbow.

Harry looked over at his redheaded friend and managed a weak smile.  “I’m sorry, Ron . . . I just don’t feel hungry today.”  He
wasn’t about to tell Ron that the reason for his loss of appetite was the horrid nightmares that he was being plagued by.

As if to spare Harry the embarrassment of having to answer any questions Ron might have, the distant sound of thousands of
flapping wings and the screeching of owls approached . . . signaling the arrival of the daily mail.  All over the great hall,
students from every house reached out as the various owls dropped letters and packages into their waiting hands.

Harry frowned in puzzlement as a strange owl headed for him.  He didn’t recognize it, and it certainly wasn’t one of the owls
that the teachers used.  It was however, headed straight in his direction.  Not knowing what else to do, Harry held out his hand
and blinked as a letter fell into it.  He opened it quickly and read the writing on the parchment.

“Dear Mr. Potter,

For the past few days, you have been receiving dreams foretelling of the fate of one, Draco Malfoy.  I do apologize for
distressing you, but you are my only hope.  Only you can save him from his horrible fate.  My ability to send the dreams is
waning and I cannot send them to you any longer.

PLEASE, I beg of you, save Draco from his fate.”

The letter was unsigned, but still it held a tone of such urgency that Harry could not ignore it.

“Does that letter mean the Draco Malfoy that I think it means?”

Harry jumped, startled, and looked over to Hermione.  She had been reading the letter over his shoulder.  “That was rude,
Hermione.”  Harry chided, although he was more embarrassed about being found out in such a way.

Ron, who was sitting on Harry’s other side, frowned and spoke up.  “Draco Malfoy?  Oh, Harry . . . tell me he wasn’t the one
you were helping last night!”

Harry sighed and nodded.  “I’m afraid it was, Ron.”  He shook his head.  “I know he’s been a total git to all of us, but . . . you
didn’t SEE him.  His front is covered in cuts and bruises.  He’s been tortured, Ron, and for no good reason.”  He shook his
head.  “And according to the dreams that I’ve been having, he’s going to throw himself from a high place . . . and I don’t
know when.  I told him he could come talk to me if he needed to.”

Ron was still frowning.  “Come to think of it . . . Malfoy hasn’t said anything mean to me today.  I was so busy thanking my
luck that it never occurred to me to think that something was actually WRONG with him.”

Hermione nodded and set her hand on Harry’s shoulder.  “I don’t care HOW badly behaved a person he is.  There’s no reason
to torture him.”

Ron shrugged.  “As much as I don’t like him, I agree with Hermione.  Any idea when he’s going to take that leap?”

Harry shook his head.  “All I know is . . . he’s all dressed up.”  Harry said, thinking back on the images that taunted his
nightmares, the vision of Draco standing there in his dress robes, his voice pleading for help.  “It’s as if he’d been attending a

Hermione rolled her eyes.  “Then you must not be thinking straight.  Even I know that the only times we dress up are for
Halloween and the Yule Ball.”

Harry thought of something, another snippet he’d picked up on that was true in all of his dreams.  “It’s snowing in the dreams
. . . all of them, he’s standing on a rooftop and there’s snow falling around him.”

“Must be Yule Ball then.”  Ron said.

“With all the festivities going on that day, he’d be able to slip away unnoticed.”  Hermione added.  “All you have to do, then, is
keep an eye on him.  Tell us, in detail, what happens . . .”

Harry did so . . . while taking the occasional glance over at the Slytherin table as Draco pretended to be hungry.  The blonde
met his gaze briefly, but looked away.  Harry swore to himself . . . he’d save Draco when the time came.

To Be Continued . . .