分卷阅读34（2 / 2）

“Lookatyou.”There’savoicebehindhimthatsoundslikegravel,andwithoutturningaround,Dracoknowswhoitis,butheturnsanyways.“Alwayswereahotshot.”

There’sCrabbe,standinginfrontofhim.Hehadnotseenhimsincethewar,sincethatmomentwiththefireandGoyle’sscreamsandtheburnstearingattheirhandslikewhitehotneedles.Dracohadn’tthoughthewouldseehimagain.Hehadn’tevenwantedto.LasttimehetalkedtoPansy,heheardthathewasinAzkaban,anyways.

“What’sthatsupposedtomean?”Hecannotcursehim.Heknowsthatthemomentheseeshim,becausethesightofhimcomeswithsomuchguilt,thesenseofknowingthateventhoughtheywerebadpeoplehehadbeentheonewhostartedthemdownthatpath,thatthechoicestheymadewereinpartbecauseofhim.Hethinksaboutthefirstyearonthetrain,aboutarat’steethsinkingintoknuckles,aboutsulkingalongthewallsatpartieswhiletheircollarsstrangledthem,andaboutstupiderthings,abouttheblindingmomentsofpurefriendship,likethetimewhereCrabbewasnaminggirlsandDraconamedaguyandneitherofthemskippedabeat,orwhenhisfatherfirstwenttojailandCrabbebeatupathirdyeartomakehimfeelbetter,whichwasmisguided,butithelped,becauseallDraconeededwastoseesomeonemadesmallerthanhewasfeeling.

“Youliketoshowoff,”Crabbesays,andthereisnosuchhesitationinhismovements,Dracocantell.Healwayswasthebrutalone,evenifDracoplannedit.Hewastheonewholikeditjustforthesakeofhurtingsomeone.Dracohadhisreasons,becausehehadbeentoldtopushothersdowninordertostayontop,butCrabbeneverneededtoaskwhy.“Allflashandnopower.Butme?”He’sadvancingonhim,ahandreachingout,andDracowillnotraiseahandtodefendhimself.Hehasdebtstopay,andthisone,thisonelittleshredofguilt,willbeonethathecanwashaway.“I’vegotnothingelse.”

HishandisreachingoutandgrabbingDracobytheneck,andhiswandisraisingup,andDracohasjustenoughtimetoclosehiseyesandhopeitdoesnothurt(heisstillacoward,evenifheistryingtostop)whenanotherhandflashesoutandhitsCrabberightinthehead,sendingDracoflyingandCrabbestumblingsideways.

Dracostaresdownatthenownot-so-toughCrabbe,andthenhestaresupatRon,whoispantingandlookingdownatCrabbewithsomethinglikedisgust.

“Jesus.”Ronstaresathim,andDracorepeatshimself,once,twice.“Doyoueverrememberthatyouhaveawand?”

There’samomentwheretheybothstareateachotherindisbelief,andthenRonlaughs,thenkicksoutatCrabbe.“IfIleave,canyouhandlethis?”Dracodoesn’tanswerandRonnods,kickshimagain,andthensendssilverropesflyingwithawaveofhiswand,makingitimpossibleforCrabbetomove.“Comeon.”Heclapshimontheback,andeventhoughtheyarenotfriends,notevenclose,Dracocanfeelthetrucethatcameaboutinallthismagicanddust.“We’vegototherstofight.”

Don’twealways,Dracothinks,buthemovesforwardwithoutaprotest,becausesomewhereinthereisHarry,andhewillnotstopfightingwhenthereissomeonelikethattofollow.

Harry

“Didn’tItellyouthatIwasdonefighting?”Georgedemands,butthere’snobitebehindthewords.

They’reallatSt.Mungo’s,eachofthemnursingtheirwoundsandwavingawayanyactualmedicalhelp.Hehadn’twantedtocome,andneitherhadanyoneelse,butHermionehadshowedupwhenshesawthedistresscallandtoldtheallthatitwasministryprotocol,andanyonewhodidnotshowupwouldbeheldincontemptofcourt,whichHarrythoughtwasalie,buthecan’tevertellanymore.

(Wheneverhethinksthatshe’sonlybluffing,somesmallpartofhimthatstillrememberswhatitwasliketobeskinnyandsmallandscaredraiseshisheadandremindshimofthetimeshekeptasadisticreporterinajarjustbecauseshehadcrossedher,andthenHarrydecidestoplayitsafe.)

“Sorry.”Harry’sgotacutoverhiseye,rightthroughtheeyebrow.Thenursecouldhavehealeditinasecond,scarandall,butthestubbornpartofhimwaiteduntilhegothome,whereLunacouldhealitfromthesafetyofhisbathroom.“Wedidn’tknowtheyweregoingtoexplodeyourshop.”

“Yeah.”Georgeisclearlyupsetaboutthat,buttheywon’ttalkaboutitnow,notwhentherearesomanyotherthingsthattoucheson.Liketheideathatitwashishomethattheyattacked,andthattheyweregoingaftersomethingthatwasjustasmuchapartofFredasitwasapartofhim.Ithadtohurt,toseethethingtheycreatedtogethertorndown.“Notmuchpointtoit.”

“Ofcoursethere’spoint.”Dracoisleaningbackagainstthewindow.TheonlyoneofthemseriouslyhurtenoughtowarrantabedwasGinny,whohadbrokenherankleinthreeplacesfromwheresheapparentlyvaultedherselfoffaroofandhadtowaitforaspecialist.

“Andwhat’sthat?”Ronwasn’tasawfultowardshimasnormal,buttherewasstillacertainsnaptohisvoicewheneverhespoketohim.

“Fear.Terror.Theideathatnothingissafe.”Dracoisstaringattheground,andhestilllooksbeautiful,evenifhe’scoveredindirtandgrimeandblood.Harryrememberswhathewasgoingtotellhimandishitwithawaveofgratitudethathedidn’t,becausehedoesn’tthinkhecouldbearleavinghimbehind,ever,andnothavingtherighttodemandtoknowifhewasokay.

(Therewasamoment,whereHarrywasfightingandhesawDracogetknockeddowntothedirt,justoneheartstoppingmomentwherehethoughthemightnotbegettingbackup.Andinthatmoment,herealizedhowpointlessitallwas,tothrowawaywhattheyhavetodayforatomorrowthatwasn’teventheirsyet,toletsomethingsoperfectslipthroughhishands.)