分卷阅读30（1 / 2）

“Harry.”

Draco’seyesaresad,andHarrydidn’twantthat,thatwastheexactoppositeofwhathewanted.“Imean,”Heforcesalaugh.“Whatkindofpretentiousassholebuildsahouselikethisandthinks,yes,I’mgoingtoneedtoholdsomeprisonerscaptiveforabit,betterbuildanoldfashioneddungeon?”

“Itwasaveryoldhouse.”Apparentlytheywereplayingtheirgameofpretendingthateverythingwasfine.“Maybethatwasthefashionbackthen.”

“Thefashion?”

“Yeah,youknow,like…”Hewascastingaroundforwords,foranydistraction.“Likethepointlessnessofyouruncle’sfakefireplace?Likethatkindofthing.”

Harrysnorted,andmaybethereminderofhisuncleandthememoriesinthisroomcancelledeachotherout,becausesuddenlyhefeltbetter.Twonegativesmakingapositive.

“It’sugly,whateveritwas.”HereachesoutahandtoDracoandisrelievedwhenhetookit.“Let’sgetoutofhere.”

Draco

Maybehehadn’tthoughtthisthrough.

Itwouldhavebeenonethingtocomehereonhisown,putthingsbackinorder,trytogetitreadytobehabitableagain.ItwasquiteanothertobringHarryhere,Harrywhohadalmostdiedhere,whowasheldcaptiveandlistenedtohisbestfriendbetortured,whoescapedwithsecondstospare,whichDracopaidthepricefor.TherewasenoughbadmemorieswithoutmakingHarrywanttopunchhimwitheveryturnofthehouse.

“Youneedtogoanywhereelse?”Harryappearedathisshoulderlikehewaspoppingoutofthinair,hisvoicesoloudDracohalfexpectedthedusttofallfromtheceiling.Nothinghappens,exceptsomeratsscurryawayfromthem,andDracofeelssick.

“No.”Hehearshimselfsayitbutdoesn’trememberdecidingto.Theroaringinhisearswastooloud.“Ijustneedsomeair.”

Hepushesawayfromhimandoutwhatusedtobeawindowbutisnowjustacrumblingholeinthewall.Hetripsoverachunkofmarblebutkeepsgoing,outintothedampgrassthathasgrownintotanglesuptohisknees,sinkingdownintotheground,tiltinghisheadbacktostareupatthesky.

“When’sitgoingtogetbetter?”He’snotsurewhohe’syellingat.DraconeverhadbelievedinGod,butyouhadtoblamesomethingwhenyourlifehasthislevelofshitinit,andheseemslikeagoodapersonasany.“Huh?Whenareyouevergoingtoletmehavesomepeace?”

Hereachesoutbesidehimandfindsachunkofstone,andthenacrystal,piecesofhishousethattheyhadblowntokingdomcome,andit’sthefirsttimethatherealizesitwasnottheirinvestigationthatmadehishouselookthewayitdoes.Itwaspeople,peoplewhowerehurtingandangryandafraid,whostayedaftertheirshiftandblastedthisplaceapartpiecebypieceandwatcheditallraindownintoruins.

Itwasahouse,hethoughsavagely.Areallygoodhouse.Thehelldiditeverdotoyou?

Hewantstostayouthereforever,keepcursingatthestars,maybeburnthewholethingdownandhimselfwithit.Burnthewholeworlddownjusttoprovethathecould.Buthedoesn’t,becauseHarryisstillthere,walkingacrossthelawnlikehehadn’tnoticedDraco’stantrumandsittingdownbesidehim,nevermindthatthegroundwassowetitwouldsoakthroughhisjeans.

“Wecouldfixitbackup.”Harry’stappinghiswandagainsthisknee,andDracohastoputhishandonhiswristtostophimfromburningaholethroughhisjeans.“I’mgoodatfixingthings.”

“IthoughtIwouldwantto.”Thatwastheotherthingthatwasbothering,thesenseofwrongthatcamefromwalkingthroughthehouse,howeverypartofhimwasscreamingathimjusttoboarditallupandthrowawaythekey.“ButIdon’t.”