Harry Potter: Miss Malfoy

Chapter 134 Intimate Letters

"Is it Hedwig?"

He asked in a low voice, a little timidly.

Everyone in the school knows that Harry Potter has a striking snow sculpture, and everyone knows its name.

For some reason, it always feels unreal to see it at home, as if Harry is visiting in person.

Hedwig cried proudly, and Draco could clearly feel his father's displeased look.

I also clearly noticed that my father's gaze had just swept out, but was immediately suppressed by my mother's reproachful expression.

After receiving the letter, he spread out the tissue wrapped in Bacon Dean on his palm and let Hedwig peck at it gently.

After pushing open the sliding glass door leading to the backyard next to the French window, he watched Hedwig leave.

Then he lowered his head and returned to his seat, quietly finished his breakfast, said goodbye to his parents, and returned to his room.

The morning was very quiet.

Thinking of my daughter's shy expression,

Narcissa couldn't hide the smile in her eyes in the living room, while Lucius paced back and forth in the study, sighing uncomfortably.

-

Draco's boudoir, apart from the elegant wall reliefs, has no excessive decorations, and looks neat and generous.

In front of the window facing the small pond in Malfoy Manor is the desk where he usually reads and writes letters.

The shelf beside the table where ink and feather pens were placed opened slightly.

On the table, there lay a piece of exquisite letter paper with fine pulp that absorbed the ink and spread it evenly.

I just wrote a few lines on the off-white paper.

The owner of the elegant handwriting was not in front of the desk.

Draco just felt limp all over and wanted to roll around on the bed.

Her rosy face was buried deep in the pillows, and she would occasionally look up and glance at the letter paper spread out next to the pillow.

He stared at the words above in a daze, then buried his head deeply in the down pillow in his arms.

After a while, he jumped up and sat down at the desk.

But he picked up the pen and wrote a few words, then put the feather pen back into the ink bottle.

She threw herself back on the bed, acted coquettishly towards the pillow, then looked up at the letter on the bed in a daze.

This cycle repeats itself over and over again.

The tingling feeling in my heart cannot be described as happiness.

But it just makes the whole person feel warm from the inside out.

If it weren't for her status as the only daughter of the Malfoy family,

Deep down inside, I had the urge to hug my pillow and scream.

Perhaps only in this way can the tenderness that is about to melt my bones be exhaled from my body.

If only Pansy and Daphne had visited this afternoon.

She really wanted to hug them tightly.

I am willing to endure Pansy's ridicule for a long time.

He lay down on his back, picked up the letter on the bed, and read it aloud softly.

I couldn't remember at all how many times I had read in just over ten minutes since I returned to the room.

?My dear Draco, if I may,

How are you doing?

We haven't been in touch since the end of the semester, which has made me want to send you a message.

I originally thought that it was the inconvenience of living with Muggles that prevented me from taking action.

Later I realized that I actually didn’t know how to start.

(Even this opening, including the way of addressing, was suggested by Lupin and Sirius)

(“Just be honest,” they say.)

(Oh, don’t worry! I didn’t tell anyone who I was writing to, so don’t be mad!)

I am now visiting Ron's house, and I didn't expect that writing a letter here would be more difficult than at my aunt and uncle's house.

Whenever Ron saw me take out my quill he would start to fuss, thinking I had caught Hermione's bug and was studying for my lessons.

(You can imagine how this is possible!)

Sometimes I wondered if even Ginny was trying to stop me from being alone in my room.

As soon as I went upstairs, she would always find a reason to make me go back downstairs.

Fortunately, Hermione always found a way to get the brother and sister away.

How are you doing?

I have actually been a little nervous about writing to you.

(I wasted a lot of paper writing this letter.)

(It seems that Fred and George were doing some experiment that required burning a lot of paper.)

I shouldn't have said those things to you the night we rescued Sirius.

Hermione has been urging me to write you a letter to apologize, but...

There are some things that I always feel I should tell you in person.

This brings us to the main point of this letter (I know this is a bit abrupt, I can only hope you don’t mind).

Will you be going to the Quidditch World Cup?

Mr. Weasley was given some first class tickets.

If you were going, I think you would be in that carriage.

I wonder if I would have the honor to invite you to sit with me while watching the game?

(I heard that there are no numbered seats in the carriages, I hope so!)

Or, if it is inconvenient,

Would I have the honor of spending a few minutes alone with you before or after the game, or during breaks?

Besides wanting to personally apologize for my rudeness, I also want to ask you how you were spending your summer vacation.

With my most heartfelt blessings.

Yours ever,

Harry

-

Draco's mornings were spent moving back and forth between his bed and his desk.

He gently pressed the left side of the desk and picked out the envelope that was paired with the letter paper from the interlayer that popped open.

From the low slot in front of the table, take out the sealing wax seal that was specially made after last Christmas.

Engraved on it is a constellation totem that only the exclusive recipient of this wax seal will understand.

I am somewhat glad that my wishful thinking last year has come in handy at this moment.

I took one last look at the reply I had carefully drafted, fearing that I had made the same mistake again.

I realized that after I finished writing the letter, I couldn't help but add some notes when I read it over and over again.

The letter became unsightly.

I blamed myself secretly, and was torn between the urge to write a new letter and the courage to send it directly.

After reading Harry's letter one last time, he resolutely chose the latter.

With some trembling, he folded the letter into three pieces.

After taking out the steel stamp and pressing out the crease, put it into the envelope and apply sealing wax.

I went downstairs with Harry's letter and sealed envelope, and found that my father and mother seemed not to be in the main house.

Walk out of the side door of the restaurant, follow the path in the backyard, bypass the fountain and greenhouse, and come to the owl house.

Along the way, he silently read Harry's letter and replied to it.

I was afraid I would miss anything that Harry said in the letter.

After confirming that everything was correct, I watched the eagle owl fly out with the envelope, feeling satisfied but also a little exhausted.

Come to the fountain, take off your sandals, and put your ankles into the cool water.

His heartbeat was unusually fast, but he hoped that he could fly to the Weasleys' house even faster...

Although the data has not improved much, I will keep my promise and add another article today! I am still asking for gifts!!! Those who don’t have the ability to do so can give more gifts to help generate electricity for love! (Each person can give three gifts) I don’t mind those who pay!!!

Start calculating next week’s power generation for love (still one more chapter if 1000 words are reached) (Finally, if possible, go and promote the book!)