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Malfoy,
You just missed the Welcoming Feast.
Where are you?
You're supposed to be there.
8th years have their own common room and everything.
Get your arse to Hogwarts, you git.
Potter
Malfoy,
You're going to miss the first day of class if you don't arrive within the next two hours. They have coffee at breakfast now. You like coffee, don't you?
I have not received howlers all summer for speaking up at your trial just so you don't show up now.
Potter
Malfoy,
I know that you're receiving my letters. I hope you're reading them, too.
Come to Hogwarts.
I've got your homework.
Potter
Malfoy,
I overheard Parkinson say that you haven't spoken to any of your friends since you were released from the Ministry. She thinks you're depressed. Blaise thinks you're being dramatic.
I think we're all sad. I think we all wish we could start again.
You can.
Come here and start again. We stand with you.
Harry
Malfoy,
actually, I have more to say on the topic of being depressed/dramatic. I don't care which one you are. Maybe you're both, maybe you're neither. You know what I think? I think you are giving up. And that's just plain stupid, Draco. You're giving up on your education. You're giving up on completing schooling. You're giving up on getting into whatever it is you fancy doing after this but you cannot sit in that huge arse manor of yours and do nothing. I swear, I will come and get you if you aren't here by the end of the week, I will. Because apparently I care more about your future than you do – strange, huh? Even Hermione cares more about your future than you do. She keeps copying her notes for you. She says classes are less fun without the competition.
I know that you have lost a lot during these past months – we all have.
Whatever all the other issues are that keep you from coming here, we can deal with them. Just, for fucks sake, come on.
Harry
Malfoy,
I never would have thought that I'd admit that I miss you. But I find myself looking over at the Slytherin table in the mornings in the hopes that you will be there, calling me a speccy git.
I need someone to call me a speccy git and mean it. I need you.
Stop being a wanker.
Harry
Draco,
It's the end of the week tomorrow.
You have one more day to show up.
If you don't, I will drag you out of there.
Harry
Dear Draco,
You might wonder why I'm writing a letter to you on this fine day.
It is because I have found the shoebox under your bed. The one where you keep all my letters.
I cannot believe that this is one of the things you chose to take with you when I burst into your room all those months ago telling you you had five minutes to pack up and it immediately made me feel all warm and giddy – until I remembered that I threatened you in most all of those letters.
So I decided we are going to start a new shoebox and this is the first letter to go in it:
Dragging you back here was the best decision that I have made in my whole life because I don't want to live another day without seeing you. You ground me. You call me a speccy git and you call me out on my shit and it makes me happier than anything else.
Somehow, I've fallen in love with you, you idiot ferret.
I love you more than I can articulate because let's face it – it's not my strong suit anyway. I love you, Draco. I love you, I love you!
I cannot stomach the thought not seeing you everyday in the future. Which is why I decided that we should move in together when we graduate next month. I think we should look at flats together – just to get us both out of creepy old Pureblood houses. I think we should pick out furniture and decorations and I'll even let you buy some plants. I think I want to watch you hum while you make coffee every morning and I want to cook us dinner in the evenings. I want to be there for you no matter what happens and most importantly: if you should ever lose yourself, I want to be there to drag you back home.
Love,
Harry.