Underneath the Mistletoe

ChapterFiftySeven

Draco's POV
SeventhYear

Draco sat at a small, lightly wooded, circular table in the chalets library. It was a big room, but not nearly as big as the library back at Malfoy Manor. The table he was seated at was located beside a row of three windows, draped with heavy forest green curtains which had tassels hanging from above. The suns rays provided him with enough light to write his letter.

Harry,

It's been nearly a year since I last saw you in person. Merlin, I miss you. The last time I saw you I had to tear myself away or I knew that if I didn't do it then I wouldn't be able to leave at all. Just the thought of you makes me giddy and warm and happy. Not very many things, or people can do that, so feel honoured. I can't believe that time has turned me into such a sap. That's one of the last things I said to you, I told you not to be a sap. And now here I am, being a hypocrite. I'm rambling now, something I didn't do before you. Let's get to the point shall we.

How's the hunt for horcruxes going? In the last letter I received you mentioned the locket and your success in in infiltrating the Ministry. However, I actually already knew about your success by the time your letter arrived, as did the rest of the Wizarding World, because you decided to make a break away on a bloody dragon?! Have you completely lost your marbles you buffoon?! Did you think that would go unnoticed, or did you know then that you'd be on the front cover of the Daily Prophet?

All moronic behaviour aside I am relieved that you made it out alive and that you haven't been arrested. I'm not sure when you'll get this. Save the bloody world. Then come back in one piece.

Yours,
Draco

He sat there staring at the way he'd ended his letter for several long minutes, debating whether or not he should cross out the 'Yours.' However, he decided to leave it. Draco wasn't sure how he felt about this letter. Writing it, not even thinking about the words, had been fine. But now, as he read it over he wondered if the other letters he'd written and sent in the past sounded as clingy and desperate. A year ago if someone had told him that it was possible to miss Harry as much as he did right now he would have laughed in their face and told them they were bat shit insane. However, it had been nearly 12 months since he'd seen the other boy and recalling the moments between them, the good and the bad, made his chest ache with longing. Draco folded his arms on the table and rested his forehead on them as that exact feeling began to settle in. He figured that it probably didn't help, the amount of missing that he felt, that he was stuck in this massive chalet in Montreal, in fucking Canada of all places. Being unable to leave was driving Draco stir crazy. Something he'd been doing a whole lot over the past year was over thinking situations that he was useless to help now that he was in hiding. He had to be careful, if he didn't keep himself occupied he started thinking about the darker things that were going on in the world. He'd read all sorts of horrible stories in the Dailey Prophet, the terrible things that the Dark Lord was doing. Terrorizing and killing Muggleborns had only been the start to the horrors that were being done.

His Mother must have realized the dark headspace that he was in because she tried to distract him by encouraging him to continue his studies so that he didn't fall behind. Draco had thanked her for the suggestion, and he'd ordered Jassy, the Malfoy house elf, to buy the seventh year textbooks, but he didn't have it in him to tell his Mother that after the darkness that was sure to come his schooling likely wouldn't matter. His years at Hogwarts already felt like nostalgic distant memories. Those days were over and a new chapter had begun.

But he'd read the school textbooks anyway because there wasn't much else that he could do.

Draco thought about writing to his housemates but realized that he had no idea what he wanted to, what he possibly could, say. He missed them, even though he wasn't close with them like he was with Harry. Draco missed the passive aggressive comments that he'd trade with Blaise. He missed being at ease around Crabbe and Goyle, who had always been loyal to him, doing as he'd asked. He missed Pansy's pointless gossip and Theodore's stupid puns. He missed the routine of class and homework. He missed Harry. It always came back to Harry.