As soon as Draco exited the Headmaster's office, he carefully, but excitedly, ripped the envelope open. He immediately recognized his mother's small, neat handwriting, and his insides swelled with joy. He felt full to the bursting with happiness to be holding the letter. It was as if his mother knew he had been so desperately missing her, and she had left a messege for him. Of course, he knew that was untrue, but he thought it nontheless.

He held the thin piece of parchment in trembling hands as he read:

My Darling Draco,

As I write this to you, I fear I have little time left. Your father grows more and more occupied with the Dark Lord as each day passes, and I know my time on this earth grows short. Once you have reached your coming of age, I will no longer be with you. Please, my darling, cherish this time while you can, for when you are an adult, far from being freed to do as you please, you will be indentured and soon destroyed.

Your father gave you away to the Dark Lord before you were even born, and though I tried to stop it, I had no say. The Dark Lord wished for an heir, lest your father die before the Dark Lord was reborn. Your father may tell you somday that you're to be the Dark Lord's heir, but that is all a lie. Though he tells his followers that he was restored with the blood of Harry Potter, the Dark Lord is still weak. He needs only one thing to regain his full power, and that thing is you.

Be watchful, and do not leave Hogwarts, for only there are you safe from him. He will kill you, my love, the moment you have turned seventeen. Then you will truly be a man, and a man is all that he wishes to become.

My only wish is to be with you, and help you to freedom, but I doubt that will be possible. I'll do everything in my power, darling, but I want you to know that if I am gone, don't worry. I'll always be with you.

Find an escape, my love.

Your mother,
Narcissa

The happy excitement that had blossomed inside Draco was now shriveled and gone. She knew all along she was going to die... Draco thought miserably. His poor, poor mother. He contimplated going straight back to Professor Dumbledore's office and telling him, but he was unsure as to whether he'd be strong enough. Instead, he headed back to his common room. He needed comfort, and only Blaise could truly understand his loss.

She was seated primly on a pouf in front of the coffee table, writing something important-looking and long. She was so near the fire that the flames reflected in her eyes and on her hair, making the color dance. She turned to look at him when he got near.

"What're you doing?" he asked hollowly.

"Potions essay for Snape. He's still angry at me about ... the incident," she said, holding up her still bandaged hands.

"Still? Holds a grudge, doesn't he?" Draco said, then added, "Do they hurt you much?"

"Oh... well, no. I mean, not really," Blaise lied. The burns had turned to gashes, and the gashes to something painfully between a scab and a scar. Madam Pomfrey had said this was not terribly uncommon, but that if it didn't heal soon, Blaise may need a trip to St. Mungo's. Blaise feared that place. She'd gone there as a child to see her brother before he'd died, and dreams of it still haunted her. "Madam Pomfrey says they're doing fine, and should be all healed in no time."

"But it's been months. Shouldn't they be better?" Draco asked, sitting on the floor next to her, his mother's letter pushed to the back of his mind. "Let me see them, then."

Blaise jerked away from his touch, hot pain shooting up her arms. "No! You just let them alone, will you? I told you I'm fine." She paused. "I'm sure you have other things to worry about..."

"I worry about your wellbeing. Now give them here, come on," Draco cajolled, holding his hands out.

"They look worse than they are," Blaise warned. Draco unwrapped the bandages and Blaise winced.

"Ugh, Blaise these burns are awful. They're... seeping reddish stuff, look." Draco seemed appalled. Not at the wound, since he'd had worse, but at Blaise for keeping it from him.

"That reddish stuff is blood, Draco."

"What? Its still bleeding after all this time?" He was shocked. "You little liar, tell me what's really going on," Draco demanded.

Blaise told him everything, how she'd been waking up at night crying from the pain, how she was afraid she'd be put in St. Mungo's, and how hard it had been to keep it all from him.

"But you've been so busy with Hermione lately, I thought... I didn't want to bother you with it," she blurted out, then suddenly looked very guilty. "I didn't mean to say that..."

"Oh... I'm so sorry, I really am," Draco said quietly. He pulled her close to him into a hug.

"Love you, baby dragon," Blaise said softly. He hadn't heard that name since he was a child still in nappies. His mother had called him that...

"Love you, too, firefly," he said back, calling Blaise the nickname her mother had given her when she was a little girl.

"Anything bothering you?" Blaise asked after they'd sat in silence for a while.

"Actually..." Draco started, then told her everything that had been in his mother's letter.

"Oh, Draco, that's terrible!" She said, sitting upright. You have to tell the Headmaster!"

"I planned on it, but I wanted to talk to you first."

"Oh, don't be stupid. Your birthday is only a month away, we barely have any time at all to think of a plan."

Draco honestly hadn't thought of it that way. His birthday had never been important to him, so the eleventh of May was a practically meaningless date.

Blaise dragged him back to the Headmaster's office, and Draco recounted everything to Professor Dumbledore.

"This is startling news," Dumbledore said quietly, placing his fingertips together under his chin. "Well, that's it, then. You'll be staying here for the summer. Sadly, there will be no more Hogsmeade trips for you, of course, nor any other outings. In the meantime, the other professors and I will think of something more permenant."

Draco nodded, and Professor Dumbledore smiled a thin sort of smile.

"Do not worry, Draco. You will most likely be safe in the end. However, if you somehow won't be, there's no need in worrying about it now, is there?"

"I suppose not, sir," Draco answered.

"Well, then. Off you go." Dumbledore said, shooing them from his office.

"He's a strange one, isn't he?" Blaise asked as they made their way back to their common room.