分卷阅读29（2 / 2）

Shewaggleshereyebrowsathim,anddespitehimself,Dracocouldfeelhimselfgettingflustered.“Notlikethat.”Whatwasitlike,then?Yousleepinthesamebed.“Courtorderedbabysitting,basically.Keptmeoutofjail.”

Hetriestoshruglikethatdoesn’tmeananything,butshesmileslikesheknowsbetter.Andmaybeshedoes.Lavenderdidalwayshaveanannoyinghabitofknowingeverythingabouteverybody.“That’snotwhatI’veheard.”Shegiveshimonelasttiredsmileandrapsherquillagainsttheglassonelasttime.“Seeyouaround,Draco.”

“Yeah.”PartofhimwantstoinvitehertohimandHarry’s,justtocatchup,butabiggerparttellshimthatmaybeheshouldtakethisoneinbabysteps.“I’llseeyou.”

Harry

TheyhadmadeitallthroughdinnerwithoutHarryaskinghimwhatwaswrong.AndwhenDracohadfinallytoldhimthetruth,hehadtoadmit,thelastthinghethoughthewouldbehearingisthathewantedHarrytogointothemanorwithhim.

“Iknowyoudon’twantto.”Dracosaid,everythingcomingoutinarush,lookinglikehemightthrowupthatmeatloafhehadpainstakinglycooked.“ButIcan’tdoitalone,andIjustneedtothis,Harry,Ineedto—”

AndHarry,notthinkingaboutwhathewasagreeingto,notthinkingaboutanythingbutmakingDracofeelbetter,saidyes.

Whichisallwellandgoodintheory,butit’squiteanotherthingtostandbesideDracoandtrytobestrongforhimwhenhepushesopenheavyoakdoorsthatmakeyouwanttopuke.Harrycouldremembereveryawfulmomenthehadbeeninsidethishouse—Bellatrix’sbreathsouronhisface,Ronpoundingonthedungeondoor,Hermione’sscreams,andDobbyafterwards,achandeliercrashing,whatabeautifulplacetobewithfriends—stop.

“Jesus.”Dracopushedthedoortherestofthewayopenandthenjuststoodinthemiddleoftheroom,inthemiddleofallthedebrisandclutter.“Theysuredidn’tbotherwithacleanupcrew,didthey?”

Theyhadn’t.Itlookedliketheyhadtornthougheveryinchofthisplacetotryandfindwhateverdarknessmightbehiding,rippingoffthewallpaperandtearingthechandelierdown(forthesecondtime,notthattheyknewit).Therewerespiderwebsspreadingthroughthehallwayslikelacecurtains,dustandgrimegatheringonthefloor,ratsscurryinginthecorner.

“Myfather,”Dracostarted,andHarryhadheardthosewordssomanytimeshecouldheartheminhissleep,asneeronhisfaceandathreatinhistone.“Wouldhaveratherdiedthanletthishappen.”

Harrysnorts.“Oh,comeon.”Hepicksuphalfamarblebust,thenoseshatteredoffandtherestofitlyingonthefloor.“Thisstillsortoflookslikehim,don’tyouthink?”

“Thatwasn’thim,youprat.”DracoshoveshisshoulderintoHarry,butatleastnowhesmiles.“ThatwassomeoldGreekdude.”

Hestandsinthemiddleofthewreckageamomentlongerandthenkicksoutatthechandelier,whichdoesn’tmoveitaninchbutmusthavehurthim.“Comeon.”HereachesouttoHarry,leadinghimforward.Thiswashishome,afterall.“We’vegotalotofgroundtocover.”

Theyheaddowntothebasement,becauseapparentlytheyhadasecrethideawaydownthere,andDracowantstomakesuresomeonetrustworthywitnessesthathe’sgoingtoturneverythingin,nomatterhowmanygalleonsitwasworth.

“Nope.”Dracoslammedthedoorclosedagain,wipingthedustoffonhispants.“Thebastardsgoteverything,Harry,wecan—”Hepaused,noticingthatHarrywasnolongerlistening,wasnolongereveninthesameroom.“Harry?”

“Ialwayswondered.”Harrysaid,hiswordssoundingalittlestrangled.“Whysomeonewouldbuildahouseequippedwithadungeon.”

Theywerebackinthatsameroom,andnowHarrycouldn’tblockitout—Ron’sfistintothemetaldoor,thebloodtrailingdownHermione’sarms,LunaclosingDobby’seyesforthelasttime.Itwastoomuch,toosoon,andhefeelshisthroatcloseupwiththesuddenpanicofneedingtogetout,butthenthereisahandonhisarm,drawinghimback.