Draco was woken from a fitful slumber. He had see the sun rise with no one by his side. A king-size bed didn't seem so cozy with no one to share it with. Silence could send the sanest of men mad.
A notification flashed up on the phone seated on the bedside table. Draco was quick to reach for the message, hoping to see Harry's name... He was disappointed. Private number; Who could it be? Draco's mind whirled as he read the message.
PN: If you want him back you better follow my instructions. If you want him alive, no one knows where, when or why we meet... understood?
Draco's breathing became reckless. Before he knew it he was on his feet, pacing the kitchen tiles, waiting for his coffee to pour. Silence had gripped the world. No longer did the sound of London's 8am traffic disrupt Draco's thoughts; not even the roar of steaming coffee could break through the horror that had consumed the logic of the Malfoy's mind. The message shining on his screen made no sense yet he completely understood it. How can they have my Harry when I watched his lifeless body being wheeled away only yesterday? Draco thought.
DM: Very well. What must I do?
Draco hit send, only to immediately regret it. You idiot! Draco's logic screamed from the passenger seat, Harry would kick your butt if he know you did this to free him! You have to tell someone. But Draco had had enough of thinking rationally, look where it got him last time. He couldn't think straight never mind logically. Harry was missing but still alive. He needed his Gryffindor back... no matter what it took. Draco drifted towards the coffee machine in an effort to pay some attention to his waiting drink. He seemed to be in a slight trance, anxiously awaiting further instructions. He managed to down half his coffee before his phone notified him of yet another message from the unknown number.
PN: Meet me inside 12 Grimmauld Place... Alone. Bring only yourself, no one else.
Draco took four deep breaths before dragging his fingers to form a reply.
DM: Very well. I will be there in 20mins, no sooner no later.
Draco's heart was pounding against his ribs, fighting to escape its confides. Panic began to boil within his mind, there was no time to waste. Dialing Narcissa's number, Draco raced into his room to change. After a few rings, she answered the phone; Draco told his mother that he had a lead as to where Harry's capture may be and that he wouldn't be in reach until after lunch. Once he had hung up, the blonde's leather jacked was stretched across his tensed back and a bag was slung over his shoulder. He could not bare to miss the opportunity of finding his Gryffindor alive and well... and yet he doubted the liability of the demanding message from the private number. Draco walked from his apartment, along the main high street and turned the corner to Grimmauld Place before he began to form logical thoughts. What was he doing? Following a mysterious black mail for an untraceable message. Not to mention that he was stepping foot into the house where his boyfriend was found dead less that 24hrs before hand. Yet, he continued down the street until he stood before the iron gates of Number 12 Grimmauld Place.
Draco's thoughts were scattered but his footing was sure. He trudged up to the top step. A fist raised from his side and rapped on the door 4 times. The sound of echoing footsteps sounded from within.
The lock clicked.
The door swung open...
And it all went black.
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