Chapter 17- Missing Him

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Draco's summer hadn't been amazing. He mostly stayed in his wing of Malfoy Manor. But there was a strange feeling now. It didn't feel like home anymore. Not really.

The Manor was dark, eerie, but something else had been added: sheer loneliness. There was no warmth, there wasn't a fuzzy feeling that he became so fond of over this past year. There was not happiness. This was not home to him anymore. His home was a green eyed, black haired, round glassed Gryffindork.

Draco walked back from the owlery charted to the left of the manor, night already swallowed the earth. He had just sent his present to Harry, hoping it would make it in time to be the first thing Harry would see on his birthday.

Sadly, they hadn't been in contact all holiday, but Draco had to make an acceptation. Getting caught would be fine as long as he got his present to his boyfriend safe and sound.

Harry got Draco a stuffed lion for his birthday, along with a corny poem Harry wrote him, which made his heart flutter whenever he read it, even though it was outwardly hilarious. When he felt extra alone he would read over it again and again. He even had the sayings memorized.

Walking back inside to the Manor, his favorite house elf, Choo-Choo, went up to him.

"Master Lucius wishes to see Master Draco in his East Hall Study," Choo-Choo's voice squeaked.

"Thank you, Choo-Choo."

"Master Draco is been so kind lately." The elf bowed and went on to the kitchen to do whatever they do in kitchens. Draco reckoned they cleaned? He never knew what that was like. Thank Salazar, he wasn't an elf. You wouldn't see him with a mop or broom or whatever they use for the matter any day.

The elf was right. Draco was happy. He saw things in a slightly brighter perspective which is a lot considering he didn't know much other than what his father told. Harry was opening a new, better side to him.

Draco made his way to the east wing, questioning why he was even there. He hadn't been anywhere near the middle of the manor let alone the east side, he wasn't allowed. Probably because the Dark Lord was going in and out. He must of been gone at the time. 

Crossing to a large ebony door, Draco knocked three times to find it open itself.

"Ahh, Draco, take a seat." Lucius pointed to one of the many leather sofas which made Draco feel oh so uncomfortable. Draco hated being in his office. The atmosphere itself was layered in tension. The walls were so dark of brown they were almost black. The floor was a scratched elk, and the furniture had an eerie snake theme. Not the badarse snakes that everyone loves, but the ones that chill the rods of the spine. 

Draco emerged to one of the chairs facing the desk his father was sitting at. An electric green fire flicked in the black marble fire place, but still the coldness was present. He had knights everywhere, followed by tiny light posts that looked as swords.

"Good evening, Draco."

"Good evening, Father."

"How was your year at Hogwarts?" Draco looked at his father in question. He'd never asked that before.

"Erm... Well it was... fine, I guess."

"Your hesitating Draco. Malfoy's don't hesitate," Lucius interrupted impatiently. He was obviously fishing for something.

"It was fine." Draco tried to make his voice as firm as possible but his father's silver daggers were shooting into his eyes.

"Really? Fine? That's it?" He paused and started right back up again, not wanting a response. Draco knew that, still wearing a look of confusion. "It was your fourth year? If I am correct, you should be fifteen now."

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