A New Chapter at Hogwarts [Drarry]

Chapter 35: Beneath the Surface

It had been two weeks since Draco had left Hogwarts, and the Easter holidays had blanketed the school in a quiet stillness that was both peaceful and unsettling. Most of the students had gone home, leaving the castle feeling vast and hollow, its once-bustling halls now echoing with only the faintest signs of life. The ancient walls seemed to breathe in the silence, absorbing the rare moments of calm. Despite this stillness, the school maintained its pulse through the tireless efforts of the house-elves, who were busily attending to their deep cleaning, scurrying through the corridors and sweeping through the empty classrooms with quiet diligence.

In one such secluded corner of the castle, a house-elf named Nixie was making her way through the professors' quarters. Small, sprightly, and full of determination, Nixie had a particular fondness for this task. She prided herself on keeping things in perfect order, and cleaning the private rooms of Hogwarts' staff was a responsibility she treated with extra care. The professors were, after all, the guardians of the knowledge that shaped the young witches and wizards of the world.

Today, Nixie found herself in Professor Draco Malfoy's quarters. The room was exactly as Draco had left it—impeccably neat, with only a few personal touches to mark it as his own. The faint scent of parchment and potion ingredients lingered in the air, mingling with the faintest trace of something darker, more mysterious. As Nixie dusted the shelves, humming softly to herself, she noticed a small stack of books on his desk that had yet to be moved. Her wide eyes narrowed in concentration as she flicked her hand, sending a soft breeze over the books, whisking away the thin layer of dust that had begun to settle.

But as she shifted one of the heavier volumes, a small folded piece of parchment slipped out from beneath the stack, fluttering silently to the floor. Nixie froze, her gaze snapping down to the fallen letter. There was something about it that made her hesitate, a small twinge of curiosity sparking in her chest.

Carefully, she bent down and retrieved the parchment, her tiny fingers brushing the edges, worn from handling. As she unfolded it with care, her eyes widened as she recognized the neat, formal handwriting immediately. It was Professor Draco's. The letter had been addressed to someone—Professor Harry.

Nixie hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do with the letter. But her instincts as a house-elf told her that it was important, something meant to be delivered but missed in the rush of Professor Draco's departure. Surely, it had been forgotten.

Without reading any more of the letter—she would never dream of such a thing—Nixie made a quick decision. The parchment had to reach its intended recipient. With swift, practiced movements, she slipped the letter into a fresh envelope, adding a small note of her own in her best handwriting, explaining how she had found the letter and that she believed it had been meant for Professor Potter.

Nixie's feet barely made a sound as she scurried out of the room, the newly sealed envelope clutched in her hands. Her heart beat with purpose as she made her way up to the Owlery, her mind racing with the urgency of the task. She reached the tower quickly, her sharp eyes scanning the various owls resting on their perches. Choosing the swiftest one, a sleek barn owl with sharp, intelligent eyes, she gave the bird a gentle stroke before sending it off into the evening sky.

The owl soared gracefully into the air, disappearing into the fading light as it carried the letter towards Harry Potter. Nixie watched it go, a quiet satisfaction settling in her chest. And with that, Nixie turned and slipped back into the shadows of the castle, her task complete, unaware of the echo of the letter's contents about to collide with the present.

Meanwhile, at the Burrow:

For Harry Potter, the Easter holidays had only deepened the hollow sense of confusion that had been gnawing at him since Draco disappeared without a word. The silence left in Draco's wake was suffocating, pressing down on Harry no matter where he went, what he did, or how hard he tried to escape it. The emptiness Draco had left behind was all-consuming, making each day bleed into the next with a dull ache that he couldn't shake.