It all began with the Letter (Drarry)

Chapter Six

Chapter Six: Thereafter

Hi my friends I am super duper sorry for the mia hahaha hope yall enjoy this ;) Pls don't skin my friends and I (but if you insist come on I'll meet you outside let's fight ) Just kidding (am I really?) I was at fault (?) too hehehe

(Psst I placed a pun in this chapter I wonder if yall will find it hehe comment if you do maybe? My friends laughed at me when I showed it to them though :/ )

Quoting my friend (I question his sanity really) ...

"Onwards! To Narnia!"

__________________

Draco awoke to the comfort of his own four-poster bed's soft silken sheets in his apartment. The sun was already hanging high; judging from it's position in the azure sky he estimated it to be around ten in the morning. Stifling a yawn, he swept himself off the tempting silky sheets and headed towards his personal washroom . As he brushed his teeth as usual out of habit, he had a sudden nagging subconscious feeling in the back of his head. He was forgetting something. Something important, yet seemingly scary.

Glancing at the large mirror spanning the length of his bathroom, Draco did a double take and dropped the toothbrush in his hand. The reflection staring back at him was neatly bandaged in various places; his forehead, arms and even across his torso. Had he been in a fight? Who had bandaged him? And most importantly of all, why did he seem to not remember anything- anything at all. Washing up, Draco peered at his reflection, a quizzical look dawning upon his fine facial features. What exactly was in that span of memories that he seemed to have lost?

As Draco headed towards his kitchen, a sudden sharp pang of pain came upon him and clutching his head, he stumbled down the hallway and fell into his favourite armchair. Flashes of his 'lost' memories flooded back into his mind as he let out a series of uncontrolled grunts and groans. When Draco finally recalled everything right up till the part where he had collapsed in front of Potter, the pain in his head subsided, and left him gasping for air just like a goldfish out of water. He sat up from his sprawling posture on the chair with a start, realising that there was a gap in his memory from the time immediately after he had collapsed in Potter's house to this moment, where he was back in his own apartment.

Draco rose from his armchair with a frown plastered on his face, and started pacing around the hall, trying his best to make out anything at all. From the corner of his eyes, he realised that there seemed to be a silvery wispy specter in the corner of the hall. He spun around, eyes flashing, and he could not believe the sight in front of him. The silvery figure was a Patronus, not in the shape of any animal he had ever seen, but one of which he was very closely acquainted with. It was not his Patronus, but the figure in front of him was himself. The Patronus was in Draco Malfoy's likeness.

Mouth agape at the rather queer figure in front of him, Draco could do nothing but stare. The Patronus chuckled silently, ran a silvery hand through it's wispy hair and gestured for Draco to follow it. Hundreds, no, thousands of thoughts were racing through Draco's mind. Why did the Patronus look like him? Is it even possible for a witch or wizard to conjure a Patronus in a wizard's likeness? But more importantly, who was the one who had conjured that Patronus currently striding down his hallway?

Curiosity overcame him and he followed the Patronus down the hallway. It stopped abruptly, pointed at a folded parchment on the floor by the door. While smoothing down its silvery suit, it bowed and with yet another silent chuckle, vanished. Draco gazed at where it had stood for a moment, and moved forward to pick up the piece of parchment by the door.

I'll see you tonight at 8.

Sowsmeade.

H.P.