It all began with the Letter (Drarry)

Chapter Nine

Chapter 9: Feelings

Ohno guys tell me in all honesty did yall think that Chapter 7 was too rushed :( ack I got a review on fanfic.com that said it was. Eek :( it's ok I shall work on that too then... If I do change anything I'll tell yall ok. Oh and this part will have new areas in it like this other perspective in italics ok to be exact it isnt in this chapter yet it'll be in the next. (curvy like this)Anyway stuff that are being thought are also in italics. Oh and I borrowed an idea, that cute-ass time skip from one of the other fics I read recently but screw my memory I can't remember the author damnit (enlighten me pls)
Anyhow I was initially gonna post a really long chapter but then I decided I should post what I have first bc I promised @DRARRYLOVR4LIFE , @fae_moon93 , @Werewolfqueen1999 so here you go guys chew on this :) [and ahem the star is calling for yall to press it

↓GUYS DO YOU LIKE THIS GAY SEPARATOR HUEHUEHUEHUE

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In the confusion, Draco, and perhaps even young Potter, had forgotten that it was dinner time. As the clocks in Draco's apartment rang out (it was eight in the night), a large rumble emerged from the shivering terrified boy. With mild surprise that such a loud sound could have come from such a small boy, Draco gazed in amusement at the small boy, a slight smirk forming on his face. But what Draco had found amusing, seemed to horrify the boy. A look came over the boy, a look that Draco recognised, a look that meant the boy knew, or thought he knew, that he was in trouble. He backed into the wall behind him, afraid of consequences that, for once, would not be thrust upon him. Bemused, Draco simply left Potter to cower against the wall as he made his way towards the kitchen to prepare their meal. He was definitely not one to baby others, even if the 'others' in question was young Harry Potter.

'Kids will be kids, and since he probably doesn't know magic, there's no harm leaving him on his own. I'll just go do up dinner,' Draco thought to himself.

With magic, cooking up the delicious spread that soon laid on the dining table was accomplished in mere minutes. Steamy hot dishes were sprawled over the table - mashed potatoes with gravy of the most perfect brown, buttered rice with fat corn peeking through the grains of rice, smoked peppered duck - you name it. The food looked good enough to be sold in any well established diner, no one would believe Draco had cooked up that storm if they hadn't seen it for themselves. Feeling fairly pleased with himself, Draco headed back to the living room to invite Potter to dinner. It's funny how he was panicking just a few moments ago, but yet he was now calmly getting Potter to go and eat. Sometimes, even Draco didn't understand himself.

As he walked, falling back into his old habit, Draco called out," Hey Potter, dinner's ready. Come and eat." He waited a short while for a response, but when he didn't receive any, a frown settled on his face and he hurried to where he last saw Potter. The sight before his eyes was mildly interesting, somehow Harry had managed to find a quill and some parchment, and was busy drawing something on it. Walking closer, Draco saw that it was a rather stunning sketch of himself in a rather unglamorous position (on the floor with Harry on him) and immediately, rather annoyed, remarked.

"While I fancy myself being drawn so stunningly, I'm afraid it's time for dinner Harry Potter. Let's go, it's not early. "

Harry turned and looked at Draco, wide-eyed, and asked in amazement," There's food for me?" In that moment, Harry saw Draco as a benevolent God that provided him with food, especially since the Dursleys would only let him eat their leftovers, which was obviously close to none (considering their sizes).

"Yeah hurry up."

When they reached the dining table, Harry sat on the chair, watching as Draco swept up generous portions of each item and piled them onto Harry's large dinner plate. 'He's wonderful. No one has ever prepared so much food for me before!' Harry thought to himself in awe of the blonde in front of him. However, a small discomforting feeling nudged at him from a portion of his brain, a memory that existed even though technically he had not been through those experiences yet, seeing that he had 'went back in time'.

The rest of dinner went by uneventfully, as Draco chewed thoughtfully on his food, while Harry gobbled every morsel down, and even asked (slightly apprehensive at first but grew unreserved soon after) for seconds and thirds.

As it was, Draco was contemplating on what he should do next. He would first have to keep Harry Potter alive, needless to say. Feeding him, bathing and clothing him, entertaining him? The thought of entertaining young Potter sent chills down his spine. Undoubtedly, Draco didn't like kids. The feeding and clothing him part was doable, but Harry Potter would have to amuse himself- Ah. Since Harry seemed to enjoy sketching, that could keep him occupied. Swallowing his last bite, Draco immediately conjured up a quill, enchanted so its ink never runs out, together with a stack of bound parchments and handed them over to Harry.

"Here, it's yours."

--------AsHarrydrewDracoflew--------

As the night passed on, Harry gleefully filled up pages after pages of the parchment with detailed sketches and scenes of various places, while Draco slipped out of the apartment to purchase numerous rare and/or hard-to-get ingredients like dittany and fluxweed. They were once common ingredients but recently their numbers been declining sharply. Of course, the money was not of any concern, for the Malfoys had been allowed to keep their immense wealth (and also considering the money in Gringotts, let's just say that it wasn't all that the Malfoys possessed).

Although Draco was a genius, he hadn't any clue as to what would be required to form an aging potion- no one was interested in growing older. His best bet was while using the recipe for the de-aging potions, reverse the ingredients - that is, use ingredients from the opposite spectrum. The ingredients spectrum, something that was not taught in Hogwarts by the potions master, but was taught to Draco when his Godfather, Professor Snape, made periodic visits to the Malfoy Manor, when the potions-loving godson was merely a young child. The spectrum was the reason why bezoars cure most poisons, because they're located opposite the poisonous ingredients on the spectrum. But the problem was, there were too many ingredients, and too little time. Draco didn't know if Harry's current state would be stable.

He would need to hurry.