Chapter 7 : THE LETTER
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Draco’s Point of View
The rain was still falling as Hermione and I raced toward our destination. No one had any idea where we were or why we left and I preferred it that way. You see, we were tracking my father and his cronies in order to get information out of them or at least finish them off. Only I knew where we were headed. Hermione would know the place once she saw it but she wouldn’t know why I had taken her there.I heard her gasp as we approached Grimauld Place. Slowly she turned to me, “Why are we here? Your father wouldn’t be here, would he?” “He might be. My mother often stayed here when they were courting. He could have come just for nostalgic reasons.” I said, gazing up at the dark, foreboding house.
We quietly crept up to the doorway before going inside. I placed a finger to my lips while I tread softly on the lush carpet and up the creaky stairs. Hermione obviously knew the way but she let me lead in case of danger. Once on the landing I headed straight for Sirius’ open bedroom door. Peering in quickly, I motioned for Hermione to follow me as I went further into his dark, cobwebbed bedroom. I t was obvious that the occupant hadn’t been in there for quite some time, judging by the dust on the dresser. Immediately we began looking for any sign that my father had been there. After a few minutes of frantic searching, Hermione excitedly motioned to me.
At first I didn’t see where she was pointing but then slowly, as my eyes adjusted to the lack of light I saw what had caught her attention. On the dresser was a letter in a familiar slanting hand. It read:
If you are reading this then my job hasn’t been done and you are thankfully safe. But if someone else is reading this, like my son Draco for example, then I have both succeeded and failed. I have succeeded by doing as the Dark Lord commanded and I have failed by killing the only one I have truly loved. My darling Narcissia you must know that I did this not for my own gain but to keep the remainder of our family (Draco) safe. And yes the Dark Lord knew you were a double agent, but what he never knew, although he probably does now, is that I am as well. Years ago, after Lily and James Potters’ deaths I decided to talk to Dumbleldore and see if he could protect my family if need be. He agreed, and in exchange he asked that I get him inside information in order to protect you and our young son. By now you probably know that I am dead and that the Dark Lord is after Draco. At all cost he must be kept safe! As for me, I go now to join you, my dearest Narcissia in that eternal sleep know as death. (And Draco, on a final note, all the things needed to run the Manor and the business can be found in the top drawer of my desk in the library.) Yours Forever,
My mouth suddenly went dry and my hands became clammy. Quickly I ran my finger through my hair, noticing it was damp with sweat. Why was it though? It’s not like I had a very good relationship with my father, I mean he did teach me everything I know but that’s not saying much. I glanced at Hermione to gauge her reaction and was surprised to see the tears running down her cheeks. Sorrow filled me, not for my father but for Hermione. I gently put my arm around her and pocketed the letter. Sighing, I turned and lead her from the room, closing the door behind me when we left.
As soon as we were in the hallway, Hermione slumped against me and continued to cry profusely. I tightened my hold on her as my hands moved in slow, soothing circles on her back. “It’s all right. I don’t miss him that much anyway. And he’s with my mother now, his one true love. As you are mine.” I murmured as she buried her face in my chest. To have her so close like this was heaven in itself. No interruptions, no owls fluttering in from worried friend. Nothing, just she and I, as I had wanted for so long. Hermione’s words pulled me from my thoughts. Slowly I unwound my arms from her slender body as she pushed herself away from me, standing up quickly. By the look of determination in her eyes I knew she had plans of some sort. Grinning to myself, I stood as well and followed her as she walked downstairs.
“I think this place could use some fixing up, or, at the very least, a good polishing.” Hermione said, with that gleam of determination in her brown, dancing eyes. “Um…what do you have in mind and are you sure Harry will be okay with it?” I asked, knowing full well what she expected me to do. Ignoring the look on my pale face she curtly replied “First off Harry will be perfectly fine with this because he doesn’t even like this place. Secondly, I plan to restore this house to its former glory, with your help of course.” She strode past me, disregarding my laughter at the notion of helping fix this place up. I knew that neither one of us had any idea how to go about it anyway. I mean, I’m the spoiled, pompous rich guy and she’s the know- it -all, stubborn bookworm. There was no way in heaven or hell I was doing this.
Author's note: thanks for reading this story so far, i really appreciate it. now if all of u would kindly leave me a review that would just make my day. :) happy reading
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