Theo turned away from the dark swirling clouds and back to his writing desk. It, like most of his personal belongings, had been handed down to him. This particular piece of furniture had been his uncle's, a bit of an eccentric. Theo guessed this was the reason the dark surface was littered with black burn marks and a deep gash in one corner, exposing the pale wood within: the result of many failed self-invented (thereby not Ministry approved) spells and potions.
But Theo was not interested in the desk's history or his eccentric uncle tonight. He was more interested in the pale, rolled up bit of parchment on the desk's rough surface. It was tied with a green ribbon and stamped with - and this was what had so captured Theo's interest - the Malfoy crest.
It lay unopened. Theo had not even wanted to touch it, let alone open it. He hadn't seen Draco (as that is the only Malfoy who would really contact him) for years now. Hadn't spoken to him for years, nor had an inkling Draco wanted to speak to him.
Theo surveyed the creamy - expensive - parchment with distaste. He knew all about Voldemort's defeat and Potter's victory (and didn't care either way). He knew Draco had narrowly escaped death and Narcissa had betrayed Voldemort. He knew Lucius had wormed himself out of Azkaban (No doubt gold had crossed palms Theo thought bitterly. Being on the run, money was hard to come by. All he really had now was his log cabin). Theo knew all this (it was amazing what you picked up on your travels) but he didn't know why Draco, of all persons, had owled him, little old Theodore Nott (although he wasn't quite as little now).
Theo realised he had been pacing the small, candle-lit room, and stopped. He stood right in front of the parchment, swallowed hard and then reached out a - shaking - hand.
A/N: Theo, Draco, any other Harry Potter characters and the world they inhabit belong to JK Rowling. Unfortunately. Wow this is short but it took ages to write. LOL. Adding the next chapter ASAP :) Please review!