give me a reason || a draco x harry story

II - a family affair

It was fair to say that, as a result of the year that had just passed, Draco Malfoy was in a state of shock. With his father incarcerated indefinitely in Azkaban, and his mother inconsolably distraught, Draco had appealed with Professor Snape to let him stay at school for the summer to avoid becoming further tangled in the madness going on in the Wizarding World. He had started having vivid and terrible nightmares - skies swirling with dementors, evil suffocating the very air of Hogwarts, those he loved dying in unthinkable ways. He knew, with little doubt, that dreams were just dreams, simply manifested by his inner conflicts and troubles, but they unsettled him just the same. He knew a summer in the echoing halls of Malfoy Manor would have only deepened this sense of crippling darkness; and so he sat, alone in his dormitory, letting the quiet settle around him.

Every other bed was stripped, the quilts neatly folded away, but his still burned a deep green colour. He lay on it, just for a moment, staring at the ceiling for some sort of clarity. There was no clarity to be found there; just cold, grey stone. As if out of nowhere, he let out a low anguished yell, like a growling scream, as he curled onto his side. There was only so much one boy could stomach, he noted, as a familiar migraine began to set in over his distressed thoughts. 

Draco wasn't quite sure how he would spend his summer; studying, you might think, but that didn't seem like something he'd likely conjure the enthusiasm to do. He could practice flying, but even the rush of a broom had worn tired and hollow. The library was, as ever, infinitely stocked - but Draco doubted anything would catch his eye enough to keep him thoroughly entertained. Still, even if he spent the whole summer in bed, doing nothing at all, that somehow seemed less bleak than being at home, listening to his mother's troubled ramblings and caught up in the various complexities of the scrutiny the Malfoy household currently faced. 

Draco turned his attention now, rather idly, to the pile of post he had picked up that morning, which was gathering dust on his bedside table. There were three letters; the first was from his mother. It was sombre and rambling - something deserving of nought more than a skim-read, Draco deduced. I send you all my love, et cetera, I understand why you have chosen to stay at Hogwarts this summer, et cetera, I am filled with despair and loneliness, et cetera. He folded it over quickly, shaking his head a little, before discarding it to a nearby draw. The second letter seemed to be a thick envelope, yellowy and official looking. Draco opened it tentatively, only to be shocked by a small jolt from within the envelope. 

To his despair, the envelope suddenly unfolded with a snap and a spark, before releasing an exceptional puff of green glitter and smoke onto Draco. He coughed through the cloud, swearing under his breath, as he squinted at the piece of parchment.

"You've been Weasley Whizzbanged! 

Prototype product produced by Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, opening imminently at 93 Diagon Alley." 

It appeared to be some sort of flyer, but knowing the twins, Draco knew there was a personal intent behind the preposterous gag. He crumpled up the paper with an angry sigh, and launched it across the room. Dusting himself off from the 'whizzbang', he turned his attention to the third and final letter on his bedside table. It was a small envelope, with a slightly irridescent huge to it, and his name was written in a bold green ink with a metallic sheen. He puzzled at it, just for a moment, before tearing the seam and reading the short and simple letter it contained.

He grimaced.

"As if this couldn't get any worse."