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Chapter7

Draco

“Comeon,”Harryhadsaid.HewastuggingonDraco’shand,hairstillmessyfromsleepandasmileplayingoverhisface.“It’llbefun.”

Dracodidn’twantto.Hedidn’twanttobecauseHarrywasmakinghimgooutside,andtoDiagonAlleynoless,wherehewouldberecognized,wherepeoplewouldstareandmutterandsnarlawfulthingsbehindtheirhandsandmaybeevensendtrippingspellsathisfeet,andhewouldbewithHarry,andifHarrysawallthathewouldrealizewhatanawfulmistakehehadmade,whatkindofpersonhehadinvitedintohishome—butHarrywassmilingdownathimandtouchinghimandDracoisquicklylosinghisabilitytosaynotothingswhenHarryislookingathimlikethat,sohethrowstheblanketoffofhim(Idon’tsleepverywell,Hermionesaidwhenshegaveittohim,thrustingabundleofblueintohishands,soIthoughtI’dmakeyouonetoo)andgettingtohisfeet.

“Alright,”Hehadsaid,eventhoughthethoughtofsteppingfootoutsidethishousemakeshisstomachcurlinonitself,andHarry’ssmilegetsbigger.“I’llgo,youbastard.”

Therewasnobiteinhiswords,andtwohourslaterhefoundhimselfwalkingthroughtheLeakyCauldron,listeningtoHarrysayhitoOldTom,whodespiteeveryonewhohadbeenlostinthepastfewyears,wasstillputteringaroundinhisbarandchurningoutpotsofwaterycoffee.Whentheywalkoutintothealley,Dracohastosquintagainstthesuddenburstofsunlight,andcrowdsintoHarrywithoutnoticingit.

“Alright?”

Dracoknew,withoutHarryneedingtoreallysayit,thatifDracotrulywasn’talright,theywouldturnaroundandapparatehomeandnotmentionit,andHarrywouldspendhisdayofflikehehadspenteveryotherdayoff.Butsuddenly,Dracowantedtobeabletowalkthroughthisalleywayandsqueezehiswaythroughtheothershopperswithoutdrawingsecondglances,wantedtobeafreemanwhodidn’tfeellikeheneededtobeinchains.Andmaybetheonlywaytodoitistofacethingslikethisheadon.

Andbesides,Harrywaswithhim.It’snotlikeanythingwasgoingtohappenwhenHarrywaswithhim.

Dracotakesadeepbreath,forceshimselftobetheoneandtakethefirststepintothecrowd,evenifhedoessearchbehindhimandkeephisfingerstouchingHarry’swrist,likeHarrywasalifebuoyandhewoulddrownifheletgoforevenasecond.

“Alright.”Anditwas.

Theygointotheapothecaryfirst.Thatwasthewholepointofthetrip,becauseheandHermioneneedednewingredientsfortheirexperiments,andwhenDracohadgivenHarrythelist,hehadlookedfaintlyembarrassedandthenconfessedthathehadnoideawhattolookfor.

“Youreallylikethisstuff,huh?”Harrywassittinguponthecounter,becausethegirlbehindthecounterwasfriendswithhimanddecidedshecouldtakeabreakwhilehewasintheshop(notlikeanyone’sgoingtotryanythingwithyouinhere,eh,Harry?)soitwasjustthetwoofthem.Dracocouldn’timagineHogwartsHarrybeingthepersontoclimbuponcountersandpickupitemsthathehadnointentionofbuyingjusttocringeatwhatwasinside.SchoolHarryhadbeenmuchlessimposing,butmaybethisonehadgrownintohisskinabitmore.

“Ido.”Hehadafullbasketbesidehim,fullofoddbitsofthisandthat.“Itwasalways…soothingIguess.”

“Andyouweregoodatit.”Harryoffers,andhisgazewasfixedonDraconow,themomentcomingsosuddenthatDracoduckedaroundasetofshelvestobreakit.“Youalwaysdidlikebeinggoodatthings.”

“Thatwaspartofit.”Foramoment,Dracothoughttheyweredancingalongtheedgeofsomethingdangerousandthoughtaboutplayingalong,ofturningthismomentintosomethingcompletelydifferent.Andhecouldhave,godknowshe’ddoneitbefore,buthisthroatseemedtodryupandthewordswouldn’tcomeout.Heholdsupthebaskettobreakthetension,instead,forcingafriendlysmileonhisface.“Youwantanything?”

Harrystartled,jumpingevenmorewhenthecountergirl(Hannah?)cameoutoftheback,thebellonthedoortinkling.IwasnicetoknowthatDracowasn’ttheonlyonefeelingthetensionintheair.“No.”Hescratchedthebackofhisneck,ruffledhishairsoitfelldownoverhisscar.Hewasdueforahaircutsoon.“Notfromhere.”

Theybouncedfromstoretostore,afterthat,fromthebookstoretothedelitoevenduckingintoBorginandBurkesforsomereason(DracohadthesneakingsuspicionthatHarrywaseithertryingtoincludehispastinterestsordoingsomedetectiveworkwhileDraco’sbackwasturned),untilfinallylandingintheQuidditchsupplystore.