Chapter eight
"Draco there is a letter for you," Blaise said walking into the bedroom that Draco 'used' whenever he stayed over. Draco was lying on the bed on his back, his arms behind his head and frowning at the ceiling. He had been in this mood since Lucius had visited, clearly at a loss as to what the heck to feel or think. It was driving Blaise mad and breaking his heart at the same time.
"Is it from mother?" Draco groaned. "I swear she has sent me more letters in the last two days than she has in my entire life,"
"Its not another pleading letter from her no, I don't actually recognise the writing," Blaise frowned looking over the envelope before holding it out to Draco as he crawled onto the bed and settled beside his hip. Frowing slightly Draco took the letter and flipped it to look at the writing on the front.
"Its from none of my family," He said after a moment of going through them all.
"Then open it and find out who it is from, nothing harmful can get through our wards," Blaise smiled stroking his fingers through Draco's hair and watching as he leant into the touch.
"I'm not sure I can take many more surprises this week," Draco said dryly flipping the envelope. "The way this is going it will be a letter from Gringotts saying some obscure bonding contract has been found and I have to marry a Weasley,"
"Don't be so melodramatic dear," Blaise rolled his eyes.
"Just saying," Draco grumbled before he broke the seal on the envelope. Both of them froze at the sound that filled the bedroom from the envelope, they stayed were they were for a good fifteen minutes just listening to the sound.
"Is that..." Blaise finally spoke sounding a little awed. Draco quickly opened the envelope further and pulled out the letter inside before carefully laying down the envelope making sure it stayed open so the sound would carry on.
"Its...its from Potter," Draco finally said, his eyes not taking in the rest of the letter, only the signature at the bottom of the admittedly short letter.
"What? What does he say?" Blaise asked wide eyed.
"I don't want to read it," Draco scowled throwing the letter onto the bed and closing the envelope shutting the sound off dead.
"Draco..." Blaise sighed.
"He's splitting up my family, I want to hear nothing he has to say the little..." Draco scowled at Blaise when he was stopped from finishing the sentence when he quickly put his hand over his mouth.
"Draco whatever history you have and whatever is going on right now he is the bearer of your brothers. And you need to think this through. He's split nothing up, your parents have never been happy together, and when your father arrived the other day he looked a hell of a lot happier than I have ever seen him," Blaise said softly.
"Saint Potter managing to make everything better by spreading his legs, your supposed to be on my side not his! He's turning everyone against me, how long do you think it will be before he convinces Father to forget all about me and concentrate on his perfect new little family," Draco sneered slapping Blaise's hand away.
"Its because I am on your side that I am saying this. Even if Potter would say that, which I doubt, Lucius would never go for it. He loves you, you are just determined not to see it!" Blaise sighed.
"Shut up Blaise," Draco rolled onto his side. Gritting his teeth Blaise reached across and grabbed the envelope opening it again so the rhythmic sound echoed around the room again, quickly holding it out of reach when Draco snatched for it.
"This isn't the sound of the end of your family, it's the sound of a new one, a bigger one with the potential to be happier. Do you think Potter, who has no parents of his own and has showed no real vindictivness towards you is going to try and pull your father away? And he's not exactly having an easy time of this either, he's sixteen and is pregnant with twins by someone who has been the 'enemy', he's had to run away from all his friends and family because he wanted to keep your brothers safe, and he gave Lucius a chance when he didn't have to," Blaise attempted to reason with Draco.
