Draco POV:
Since the incident in Charms class, Granger didn't seem to be any more suspicious. Maybe what Harry did actually worked. I had bigger things to worry about than Granger finding out, unfortunately.
It was a week before Christmas break the week after our Mock-OWL exams. All the different houses were seated as usual in the great hall enjoying a normal breakfast while waiting for the post to arrive. Usually, I wouldn't expect anything except the Daily Prophet being delivered to me. That, however, was not what happened today.
I watched as the stream of owls of all different shapes and sizes flew into the room diffusing out into the crowd finding their owners. My owl was a handsome multi-colored checkered brown Eurasian Eagle-Owl with majestic eyes that reminded me of fire. I had decided to name Altair after the common name of the star Alpha Aquilae. Altair is Arabic for the eagle which I found fitting due to its breed.
My father had bought it for me because it was the biggest owl in England and I can't be seen with a common owl. That was far too embarrassing for my father. He constantly went on about how Malfoys must have the best.
Needless to say, I was surprised when my owl Altair arrived with a pristine letter which was decorated elegantly with the Malfoy crest. The writing on the front was in a beautiful bordering unintelligible penmanship which I recognized immediately as my father's writing. This was certainly unusual even my parents did decide to write it was never my father wielding the quill so to speak.
Pansy watched as the events unfolded and gave me a sympathetic look. I ignored it and used my butter knife to cut open the top of the envelope. From inside I pulled out a long letter.
Draco,
I hope you are well and thriving out Hogwarts as I was when I was your age. I am still awaiting your class progress reports which I have observed has not been coming as frequently as of late.
I should also hope you are holding yourself to the standards worthy of a Malfoy. It would displease for it to be revealed otherwise.
The Slytherin team as I have heard have not been performing and are consistently falling short to none other than the Gryffindors. I must have been wrong to assume that my invaluable contributions to the team's equipment have not in the least inspired better performance.
This letter however is not being sent for such trivial reasons. It has been arranged that over the summer or maybe indefinitely our house will be hosting some guests. Due to this development Draco, it has been arranged for you to come how this Christmas regardless of what you have previously planned.
There are some things that are better discussed in person and I can't imagine that you should want to miss it.
Your Father,
Lucius Malfoy
Reading the contents of the letter more than once did not cease to make my blood boil. Harry and I had planned our first Christmas as friends for weeks now. He is going to be so disappointed.
Despite my feelings towards my father I could not get rid of the sinking feeling of guilt in his stomach. I was deliberately disobeying my father, knowing that if he was to find out about me and Harry's friendship he would murder me.
One would assume that he would be thrilled to have someone as influential as Harry on his side but that was not the case. My father saw the boy who lived as a threat. To what I still didn't understand.
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The look of crashing disappointment on Harry's face when I told him was incredibly hard to look at. So I didn't. I averted my gaze to the floor.
"Do you know what he wants?" He asked his voice terse and clearly strained.
"He didn't say. Again Harry, I really am sorry!" I tried but he just shrugged.
"It's not your fault. At least I can see you after the break." He said and I nodded.
"Of course!"
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When the puff of green smoke finally subsided I stepped out of the chimney into my sitting room. My mother and father sat in their separate armchairs waiting for me. My mother didn't meet my curious and was instead fiddling with the end of her dress.
The dress she wore was plain not like the heavily sequenced dresses she wore when she left the house. My mother had deep circles bulging underneath her eyes that looked like they had tried to be hidden by a glamour but to no avail.
On the other hand my father looked positively chipper his suit was pressed and tailored. He looked very smart and presentable.
"Draco we need to have a conversation with you." My father said and all the blood drained from my mothers already pale face.