Title: Dear Harry
Author: Chrissy (iwantasoda)
Feedback: My drug of choice
Word Count: 490
Summary: Draco’s thoughts and musings on the death of Dumbledore and the events that followed.
Notes: Written for 50passages #17: The sun dipped and vanished, and as if at the shuttering of a lamp, black night fell
Spoilers: SS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP, HBP
Warnings: Mentions of m/m relationship
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling pwns all
The sun dipped and vanished, and as if at the shuttering of a lamp, black night fell. Draco sighed as he stared out the window at the moonless sky. It had been six long months since that fateful night at Hogwarts, and he was going absolutely insane. He gave the skies one last searching look before turning his attention to the blank piece of parchment lying on the unmade bed.
What the hell were you thinking in that last letter? I told you no names for a fucking reason. God what if the owls get intercepted and they figure out you know where we are? Dammit if Snape even knew that we’re communicating, he’d toss me to the wolves in a heartbeat. Just use your head next time, okay?
I’m going crazy here. The only human contact I’ve had in weeks is Snape- if you can count him as human these days. You thought he was a brooding and manipulative bastard before, you should see him now. I tend to stay in my room and avoid him like the plague
So, how goes the hunt for me? Am I still hiding in Paris? I wish I was there, we have a beautiful summer home in the country there. Why did things have to get so fucking complicated? I can’t even be the person I was raised to be. I’m a failure, my father taught me to do the Avada Kedavra curse when I was thirteen and when the moment of truth came, I wasn’t strong enough and I hate myself for that. All my life I was taught to honour the family name and all I did was bring more shame. I don’t know what to do anymore, I’m sick of running and the only thing keeping me out of Azkaban is the fact that I’ll lose you forever if I turn myself in.
Remember that idea you were thinking up to get me out of this? Well, you better come up with one soon because I’m getting very desperate here.
Draco’s head jerked up at the sound of an owl flying in through the open window. “About time Apollo. God you are the pickiest hunter ever,” he said with a laugh, stroking the tawny brown owl’s soft feathers. Apollo hooted softly as Draco fastened the letter to his leg. “Take this to Harry and be careful,” Draco insisted, watching the as the owl disappeared into the darkened sky.
Days later, an unfamiliar owl flew into the bedroom where Draco was sleeping soundly. The bird nipped the sleeping boy’s hand, hooting softly when Draco’s eyes snapped open. He yawned as he took the letter, casting lumos as he unfolded the piece of parchment.
Stay strong. I’ll thing of something, I promise, just don’t do anything stupid.
I love you.
Draco smiled at the short letter, rubbing his sore hand gently. Maybe he could tough it out for a while longer.