分卷阅读27（1 / 2）

Dracoshouldhaveprobablyknowtoletitgo,thatGeorgewasworkingthroughsomethings,buttalkingtoHarry’sfriendswaslikepickingyourwaythroughaminefield—mostplaceswereperfectlysafe,butonewrongstepandyoufindyourworldinpieces.

“Whynot?”

“Whatdoyoumeanwhynot?”Hegestureswildlyatthesideofhisheadwiththebottle,attheshinymessoftissuewhereanearusedtobe.“Ilostmyear.Ilostmybrother.Whatmoredoyouwantfromme?”AndofcourseitwouldbeaboutFred,everythingthathashappenedwithGeorgeoverthepastyearhasbeenaboutFred.

“Youdon’thavetostopjustbecausehe’snothere.”

Hemeantthattobecomforting.

(Actually,scratchthat,hedidn’tmeanittobecomforting,hewasjustthinkingabouttheflamesandGoyle,andSnapebeingdeadandhailedasaherowithoutonewordtothepeoplelikeDracowhowouldactuallymournhim,andhisfatherinAzkabanwhowouldbehorrifiedtoseehowhissonturnedout,abouthowhecouldnotstopjustbecausetheyaregone,andthenthatfelloutofhismouth.)

“YouthinkI’macoward,”George’svoicewassoftandquiet,andDracowasforciblyremindedthathewasRon’sbrother,becauseitseemedlikealltheWeasleyboyswouldliketopunchtheirfeelingsinsteadofworkingthroughthem.Dracowouldadmireit,ifitdidn’tkeepmeaningthathefoundhimselfthrownupagainstthewallwiththeirfistsinchesfromhisface,handsraisedinsurrenderandtryingtofixwhateverhehadbroken.“ThatIshouldneverhavewalkedaway.”

“Idon’tthinkanything.”Therewasacrowdaroundthem,allthesemuggleswatchingwithworriedfaces,andallofthemonGeorge’sside.“Really,man.Whatever’sgoingonwithyou,it’scoolwithme.”

Georgesnarlsathim,facetwistedinawaythatmakesDracothinkhe’sabouttocry,andthenshovesaway,stalkingoutthedoor.Dracopauseslongenoughtothrowmoneyonthebarandthenchasesafterhim,ignoringthepeoplewhotellshimheshouldletitgo.

Itdoesn’ttakelongtofindGeorge,whodidn’tgetveryfar.Hehadonlyturnedthecorner,andnowhewashunchedoverbeneathastreetlight,handsonhisknees.Helookedlikehewasabouttobesick.

“Areyouhavingapanicattack?”Astupidquestion,becausehewas,andevenstupiderbecauseeventhoughHermionewasforcingthemalltoreadupontheirparticulartraumas,knowingthelingoandknowinghowtohelparen’tthesamethings.

Georgedoesn’tanswer,justwipeshismouthwiththebackofhishandandstoodup.“Iwasgoingtokickyourass.”

“Youwouldn’thave.”

(Lie.It’seasiertofeelconfidentwhenthey’retenfeetapart,butbackthere,withthetensionrunninghighandnoonemovingtostopit,hewasso,sodead.)

“I’vepunchedyoubefore.”George’smouthtwitchedintoasmileashesaidit,andDracohadanuncomfortableflashofhimcurledontheground,tryingtoprotecthimself,GeorgeandHarry’sfistsflying.Ithadhurtquitealot.

“Ideservedit.”

“Yeah.”Georgesaid,smiling,andtherewasforgivenessinthatsyllable,enoughsothatwhenhesankdowntositonthecurb,Dracothoughtitwassafetocomeandsitbesidehim.“Youreallywereaprat.”

Dracochokedonalaugh,feelingbetterthanhehadallnight.“Imeantit,though.Aboutnotthinkinganythingaboutyounotfighting.”Hewaswadingbackintodangerousterritory,becauseapparentlyDracodoesn’thaveanyselfpreservationskills.“You’vedoneenough.”

Georgesighed,floppedbackontothesidewalksohewaslyingflatonhisback.“TrytellingthattoHarry.”

“Trustme,”Hesays,thinkingofgoingback,ofgettingthefirstaidsuppliesreadyandstaringfromtheclocktothedoorandbackagain,forcinghimselftostayawakeuntilHarrycomeshome.“I’mdoingmybest.”