Chapter Text
Draco hummed to himself lightly, reaching down to place the herbs he had been collecting in his basket, as the sun shone gently through the trees above. The empty forest was alive with the rustling of leaves, the sound of running water in the distance and birds singing their tune. This was Draco’s favourite place, his only place away from the hell he called home and his two vile step-brothers, Gregory and Vincent. The Malfoy Manor was once home, really home, a place where he felt wanted and safe and loved. Now, it was a prison, a house full of Draco’s ghosts, where he served as a slave for his supposed family. Now, it was his nightmare.
Draco stood up. Brushing himself down, he glanced at the dark, looming manor behind him. He didn’t need to go back just yet. Bellatrix, his step-mother, wouldn’t notice his absence. Not until she needed something cleaned anyway.
Drace faced the sun, allowing himself to bask in the heat. It was in these forests he had first learned magic with his mother. She had taught him that nature founded the basis of magic, allowed its idea to become a reality, and every witch or wizard felt a deep connection with their environment. Every part of this forest held importance, she had told him, each leaf, each flower, just like how every spell has importance. To cast a spell, you must allow it to become the most important thing to you, and only then will you be able to perform magic to its full extent.
That had been one of last times she had left the house before her illness left her bedridden. Draco sighed, glancing to the path back home. It was probably best to go back. The last time he had stayed for too long, he had been locked in the cellar for three days, and was only let out to do the chores. Even now, he still felt fear grip him thinking about the torture of that.
However, as Draco walked to the path, he caught a glimpse of a strange blue light in the corner of his eye. He would have continued on had he not realised there was no streams or rivers this side of the forest. Slowly, he spun around and moved closer to the bright orb hidden amongst the trees. As he got closer and closer, and the light clearer and clearer, the blue orb seemed to take on the form of a stag. A glowing stag that was standing in a forest clearing.
It was in this moment that Draco realised two very important things; the first being that this was, in fact, a patronus, something that Draco hadn’t been able to produce since his mother’s death six years ago. The second realisation, and the much more alarming of the two, was that this was a Potter Patronus, a deer, which could only be produced by those from the Royal Potter line. And the only heir to the throne was Harry Potter, the Prince of Hogsmeade, the Golden Boy, the most prestiged man in all the kingdom. Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy’s childhood best friend and former crush.
Draco’s heart dropped. This could not be good.