It all began with the Letter (Drarry)

Chapter Four

Chapter Four: The Letter's Contents, Surprise Visitor

Throwing the newspaper aside, Harry continued reading and re-reading the letter over and over again. A letter from his enemy informing him of his untimely demise. He hated Malfoy... right? Why then was his chest constricting the way it was now? Harry's surroundings blurred, and it took him a while to realize that he was tearing up. The tears spilled out of his eyes, dripping fat drops onto the dark brown desk. Harry roughly rubbed the liquid out of his eyes. 'Just dust in my eyes', he convinced himself, forcing his eyes back onto the letter.

His eyes fell upon the last paragraph in the letter.

"I suppose you must absolutely detest me by now. I'm really sorry. I don't know when this all began, but I'm certain you'll definitely hate me if I ever told you the truth. It has been bothering me, and I suppose I really must get this off my chest, even if it is on my deathbed. So I guess that's about it. I must be going, I have to do tea with my delightful mother. Don't sweat about this, Potter, just go about your daily The-Boy-Who-Lived business. Toodles for now, and forever.

Sneers, jeers and apologies,

DRACO MALFOY

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Harry leaned back on his chair, thoroughly disturbed. He hated Malfoy, so why was his vision blurring up again? Why were his cheeks burning from the hot tears that were trickling down from his eyes? Harry always had answers to everything, but he did not have answers to this. He gazed in dazed shock, surprise and slight horror at the parchment in front of him.

'That... That couldn't be true, could it? Malfoy's way too evil to die,' Harry growled out into the room, to no one in particular.

"Unfortunately, you're right, Potter." a sharp voice rang out from across the room. Harry stopped short. It couldn't- It wouldn't- It was. He could hear the fatigue, the pain and the agony in the jeering voice behind him.

'Malfoy...?' Harry breathed, his voice barely audible as he spun around, eyes widening at the sight behind him.

"Yes, Malfoy indeed." The blonde grimaced and a half-hearted smile graced his elegant features. "I take it that you've read my little..." he trailed off, uncertainty flickering across his silver eyes, but merely for seconds, "Letter, " he finished, " I apologize, that was a mistake on my part" he added briskly, taking long strides towards Harry's desk, wincing with every step he took.

Harry's jaw dropped as he gazed at the blonde. His usually neat blonde locks were falling all over his face, some coated with a dark red. 'Must be blood'  Harry noted to himself. Malfoy's usual cool and elegant demeanour was obviously absent, and the way he carried himself with that air of superiority wasn't present. The blonde was injured, badly. Harry was astonished that he hadn't collapsed due to excessive blood loss by now, but this would probably explain why Malfoy was swaying as he walked.

"Shut your mouth, Potter." Malfoy snarled, " I'm not a pretty sight as you can see. Got into a bit of a fight, I must admit, Auror business shit and all. Guess they must have thought I was dead" He laughed dryly, gesturing at the newspaper on the desk.

'Why... What.... How...?' Harry started, but was unable to continue his sentences as the words seemed to fail him. Malfoy frowned, heaving himself onto the chair.

"I suppose I owe you an explanation, Potter," he sighed wearily, "Sit. This might take some time."

-TBC-

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