The Lost Potter || Draco Malfoy [BOOK 1]

Chapter 76

I walked towards the Gryffindor  Table, where Hermione and Harry were sitting across from Ron. "Hey guys," I said, sitting next to Ron.

"Hey," Said Ron with a mouthful of bacon.

"Chew with your mouth closed, Ronald," reminded Hermione. Ron just nodded. "Where's Ariel?" I asked.

Harry gestured to the big group of Gryffindor first years at the end of the table with Ariel deep in conversation. She made eye contact with me, smiled and waved. I smiled back and watched as she turned back to her friends. After a second, all of them looked at me and started giggling.

"So she finally decided to become friends with people in our house, huh?" I asked rhetorically.

"I guess so," said Harry.

"Anyone got a pen and paper on them?" I asked. "What's a pen?" asked Ron. "Muggle writing utensil," I said. "Now does anyone?"

"Here," Said Hermione, handing me a clean sheet of lined paper and a pen. "Why does it already have lines on it?" Asked Ron.

"Its easier to write on with the lines," I said, clicking the pen and clearing away a bit of space for me to write. "What are you writing?" Asked Harry.

"I think I've told you about my muggle friend Michael, correct?" I asked. "You've mentioned him twice," Said Hermione.

"Well, I wanted to write him a letter and give him some explanation of where I've been. Obviously, I'm going to leave out the whole witch thing, but I just want to tell him that I'm in England and that I am okay." I said.

"Oh. Okay." Said Hermione.

I stared down at the blank sheet of paper for a few minutes and began to write.

Dear Michael Hernandez,

It's been ten months since I last saw you, but I started to feel particularly guilty that I just left you hanging, so I wanted to mail you this letter. First off, hi. Second off, how are you, Rosie, Olivia, Julian, and your mom? I'd like to think that you are doing well, but I can't always assume. I myself am doing just fine.

Okay, let me just get to the point. It's a long story, but it's worth the explanation. Last August, I had an old family member of mine (my Great Uncle Albus) show up at my foster house, along with my apparent "long lost twin brother." I know, it's insane, but it happened. (We even have the same scar. The one on my neck is the name one that he has, but on his forehead.)

Basically, I found out that I am originally from Britain, and my parents did not, in fact, die in a car crash. When I was born my brother and I (his name is Harry by the way) were born into this feud, where basically this gang was after my family, mostly us. During an attack, my parents were killed trying to save us, but my Great Uncle Albus managed to get away with us.

He sent Harry to live off with my Uncle and Aunt, and I was obviously shipped off to America, to live with a friend of my aunt, to somehow convince the gang that I'd died.

And that's basically the story. Now I live in the United Kingdom, and go to a boarding school with him, along with some of my friends that I have met here. Oh, and Ariel is here with me too, because it turns out that my godfather (the one who literally just let me be shipped to another country,) is her dad. Meaning, that he shipped her off to live with me, for some ungodly reason.

If you can't tell, my godfather is a bit of an asshole. But Harry's godfather is amazing. He was put in jail for a crime that he didn't do, but he couldn't exactly prove it because the real criminal got away. He promised us that when he was released and proved innocent, we would be able to live with him. And that is my story. again, I'm so sorry for leaving you in the dust, and I'm really hoping that we can talk soon. I miss you and love you kid.