It all began with the Letter (Drarry)

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen: Revelations
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Draco vaguely registered the cold hard floor he was lying on. A moment ago, he was re-living some past experiences he would have preferred very much to forget, and it seemed even his brain was bent on ignoring him today- seeing that his limbs were clearly out of commission. Where was his father? His Patronus would have already reached the Manor and conveyed the message without a doubt, yet his father was nowhere to be seen, not that Draco could see either. Everything looked like a blur right now, his body parts were most definitely going on a strike and -

Draco never got to finish that thought.

Heat burned uncontrollably through his body, his flesh and his bones alike all felt like they would combust and turn to ashes immediately. (No, he was not being melodramatic this time.) The pain was unbearable, on par with, no, far more searing than when the Dark Lord had decided to indulge Draco with a bout of Crucio curses, as punishment for his father's failures.

Draco cried out, writhing and thrashing wildly on the cold floor, desperate, desperately trying to extinguish the flames that had ignited in him to no avail.

Severely distressed, Draco failed to hear the concerned call that echoed across the room as he flailed madly on the ground, his broken burning body now exuding a shimmering silvery mint colour.

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Lucius sped through the events that had transpired earlier. After he finished giving a honourable mention about the vast stupidity of most house-elves, he faltered, casting a nervous look at the dark haired man who looked like he was brooding.

"You do have a spare potion?" The older blonde asked, cursing inwardly at the slight crack in his voice, "Yes, Severus?"

Snape snapped back to reality by the question. A shadow of uncertainty made its way up, and he murmured, "I do have it. But based on what you have said..." his voice trailed off, "I don't think we might make it in time." He added quietly. "We best hurry, and see whether we can salvage whatever situation Draco might be in. After all, we both know how wild the magic becomes when it is first awakened, not to mention the fact that we haven't the slightest idea what his Animia is." Lucius' thoughts briefly went back to the time he had awakened, trying to forget all the intense emotions and pain he had felt back then. If it weren't for Severus... He blanched at the thought and nodded to the other man.

Turning sharply on his heel, Snape swept up various vials of stoppered potions before heading to his fireplace together with Lucius, who gazed questionably at his choice of travel. "Unstable magic," the older man shrugged, before grasping a handful of Floo powder.

"Dragon's Lair!"

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"Malfoy?"

The blonde lay on the ground, not moving at all. Harry inched closer, wand slightly lowered but still trained on Malfoy.

"Malfoy, are you alright? What are you-"

The silvery hue around Malfoy suddenly dimmed, before bursting into a bright mixture of orange and yellow. Harry stared. It was oddly captivating, and he was certain he would have continued to stare, if it weren't for the loud cry that emerged from the previously deathly still man, followed by the wild thrashing. Harry's eyes widened almost comically and he panicked.

"Malfoy?" He called anxiously, voice rising by two whole octaves, "Merlin Malfoy! Calm down, are you alright? Malfoy? DRACO!" Harry all but roared, rushing towards the bucking man almost immediately. He approached the now orange orb and slowed, wondering what it was, before plunging in. (Typical Gryffindor behaviour, he would later admit.) He entered the orb without any major incident, apart from an odd tingling in his arms. Two large calloused hands pressed down on Draco's arms, trying to hold him down and prevent him from flailing, before recoiling instantaneously. Harry yelped, he certainly hadn't counted on Malfoy being so hot. Not in the 'handsome-prat' sense, although he was one, Harry thought noncommittally as he gazed at Draco's long lashes, (Focus Harry!) he chided himself mentally, but Malfoy was literally burning up. Far too hot to be a normal fever, he thought darkly, Magical perhaps?