分卷阅读33（1 / 2）

Thethingaboutthearticleisthatit’sshowingthewholeworldapartofthemselvesthattheyhaven’tevensatdownandtalkedabout,onlydancedaround,likeit’saflamethat’sfuntochasebutwouldburnthemiftheygottooclose.Dracodoesn’twanttobetheonetobringitup,butitseemslikeneitherdoesHarry,sotheyjustgoabouttheirday,andthewholetimethatarticleisinthebackofDraco’smind,makinghimthinkthattheyreally,reallyshouldtalk.

Andalsothatmaybetheyshouldn’ttalk,becauseiftheystarttalkingthentheyweregoingtocometoanunavoidableconclusion:thatmaybetheWitchWeeklyladywasright,andthey’rejustpushingofftheinevitable,andthateveryonearoundthemknowswhattheyarebothsodesperatelytryingtogetawaywithnottalkingabout,becausethey’reafraidthatoneofthemwillwanttowalkaway.Butatthispoint,wheretheydancewitheachotherinfrontofeveryoneandshareabedandspendmostoftheirtimewitheachother,maybeit’smorestupidthananythingelsetogoonthinkingthattheydon’thavefeelingsforeachother.

Andthenwhat,Draco?Thevoicepopsupagain,andDracotriestoquietit,hereallydoestry,hehatesthevoiceandwhatitsaysandthethingsitmakeshimthinkabouthimself,andhehatesitevenmorebecausewhenhetakesastepbacktolookatthingsobjectively,it’snotlikeitswrong.It’sonlytellingthetruththateveryoneelseistoopolitetosay.Yougoonadateandeverything’sgoodforaday,oraweek,oramonth,butthenyougetinafightandherememberswhoyouare,whatyou’vedone,andthenextminuteyoufindyourselfinacellinAzkabanandevenworsethanyoustarted.Youcan’tfoolyourselfthatanyonewouldhavecaredaboutyouifHarrydoesn’t.

Whichisthetruth,andalsowhyhecan’tbethepersontotalkaboutit.Hecan’tbecausehe’safraid,andbecauseeventhoughheloveshim,eventhoughhe’sfairlysureHarryloveshimback,DracohastolivewiththefactthatheishereandfreeallbecauseofHarry,thatthisisadebthewillneverbeabletopayback,andthatheshouldbeonhiskneesgrovelingforhisforgiveness,thathehasnorighttoevenexist.Ifheweretotakeachance,itmightbefineforawhile,butafewmistakesdowntheroadandthisniceprotectionthatHarryhasgivenhimwillgoupinsmokelikeit’snoteventhere.HeisfreewithHarry’sblessing,andnothingmore,andnomatterwhatDracohadthoughtbeforeorhowmuchlessthreateningAzkabanisnowthatitlacksdementors,hecannotgiveupfreedomnowthathehasasensetoknowwhatitmeans.

Sohereadsthepaperinstead.

AbouthowHarryandGinnybrokeup,onlytobereplacedbyLunadayslaterintheaftermathofthewar.AboutthesentencinghearingandhowHarrystoodup,whichstartedawholeotherarticlespeculatingaboutwhethertheyhadbeentogetherbeforethat,maybeevenbackattheirHogwartsdays,andsomekidshehadnevertalkedtowormedtheirwayintoaminuteoffametotellthepressthatitwasdefinitelyapossibility,which,hello,Harryalmostkilledhimintheirsixthyear,anditwasn’tevenonaccident.Thenitgoesontotalkabouttheplacestheyhadbeensightedtogetherandhowlastnightwastheirfirstrealpublicannouncement,andbytheendofit,Dracocouldalmostbeconvincedofithimself.

Hewantstobeconvincedofit.

Hewantsittobereal,wantsitinawaythatmakeshimache,andjustforamomentasheclosesthepaper,hethinksthatAzkabancannotbeworsethanthis.

What’sthepointofplayingitsafeifyouneverlearnwhatitfeelsliketoburn,anyways?

Theystillsleeptogether.

Dracohadbeenafraidtheywouldn’t,andsinceitisoneofthedaysthattheysleepinHarry’sroom,itisuptoDracotodecidewhetherornothewillbebraveenoughtotry.HeknowsthatHarrywillbekindaboutit,makeanexcuseaboutwantingtostayuplateorhavingaheadache,butbothofthemwillknow,andDracodidn’twanttofacethat.Hestandsoutsidehisroomforawhile,longenoughthatthetickingofhisclockisstartingtodrivehiminsane,butthenheshiftshisweightandtheboardscreakunderhisfeetandheknowsthatitispointlesstokeepwaiting,sinceHarryknowsheisthereanyways.

“Hey.”Heknocksandthenpushesthedoortherestofthewayopen,hesitatinginthedoorway.“Doyoustillwantto…”

Hetrailsoff,andHarryglaresathim.Hishairisevenmessierthanusual.Draco,ontheotherhand,looksevenmoreputtogether.

“Shutup.”Hethrowstheblanketsinwhatwasprobablymeanttobeasignofwelcomebutwasreallyjustangrylooking.“Getoverhere.”

Dracodoesn’targue,justcrossestheroomandthencrawlsintobed,andthenstartstheroutineofcountingHarry’sbreathsuntilhecanfallasleep.Butthatdoesn’twork,becauseHarryisangryandDracocantell,sohepunchesthepillowflatandliesonhisbacktofollowthecrackscuttingaparttheceilinglikeaspiderweb,hopingthatmightwork,too.

Itdoesn’t.

There’sapapersittingonthenightstand,henotices.It’sdark,buthecanstillmakeouttheheadlineinglowingprintandheknowsthatHarrymusthavebeenreadingtheirarticleupuntilthemomentthatheheardDracooutsidethedoor.“Isitbecauseofme?”

Hehadn’tmeanttotalkaboutit.Hedidn’twanttomakethingsbadforeitherofthem.Hedidn’twantAzkaban,didn’twantthisfinalsignthathewasnevergoingtoreachredemption.Draco’slearnedthatifHarrygivesuponyou,thenmaybeyouaren’tworthsaving.

“What?”