分卷阅读48(1 / 2)

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“Harry,youarse!”Ginnyfoundthembothassoonastheywalkedthroughthedoor,crushingthepresentbetweenthethreeofthemwhenshehurtledtowardsthem,throwinganarmaroundbothoftheirnecksandpullingthemdowntoherheight.Dracocaughtanelbowintheneck,buthewasprettysureitwasonaccident.“Ican’tbelieveyougottheWeirdSisterstoplayatmyparty!”

“It’sLuna’sparty,too,”trilledHermionefromsomewherenearDraco’selbow,andheturnedtofindhersittingdownataboothalreadywithalargeplateofcheesyfriesinfrontofher,rathergigglyandpinkintheface.RonrolledhiseyesatDraco,thenshrugged.Hermione’sanincrediblelightweight.Andlately,alwaysincrediblyhungry.

Ginnyignoredher,whichDracothoughtwasbest.

“Calledinafavor,”Harrysaid,grinning.“Thoughtyoumightlikeit.”

Dracosnorted.Calledinafavor,morelike,calledthemupandtoldthemwhowasspeakingandthenfoundtheWeirdSistershadmysteriouslyclearedtheirscheduleforthenextmonthandahalf,atyourserviceMr.Potter,anythingyoulike.TheycouldhaveplayedduringMolly’sSundaynightdinner,foralltheycared.

“Still,thankyou.Andyou,”SheturnedonDraco,narrowinghereyes,andhehadthestrangestsuspicionthatsheknewsomehow,aboutthehouseandthedoubtsandhowhestaysuplateatnighttryingtomemorizewhatitfeelsliketohaveHarrylyingbesidehim,justincase.“Dotrytohavefuntonight,won’tyou?Luna’sworriedaboutyou.”

Dracosquirmeduncomfortably,becauseifGinnyhadanideaabouthowanxioushe’sbeenthepastfewweeks,thenLunaknewforsure,wouldhavebeenabletotellwhatwaswrongwithjustonelookathim.

“I’llbefine.”Hetriestosmileconvincingly,butthenhelooksoverandfindsthatHarryhasdisappearedfromhisside,swallowedupbythecrowdthatwasDeanandSeamusandNeville.Dracowouldnotbewelcomethere,eveniftheyallsmiledandmadepolitesmalltalk.Thereisadifferencebetweenforgivenessandbelonging,he’sfinding,andit’smoreofachasmthanafineline.

Ginnyreachedover,squeezedhiselbow.“Helovesyou.”Herwordsareinsistent,hittinghimlikeastunningspelltothechest.“Trustme.Iknowwhatitlookslike.”

Hefindshiswaytothebar,expectingtofindold,gap-toothedTom,butfindsGeorgeWeasleyinstead,throwingdrinkstothepeoplewhocometohimwithoutwaitingforarequestandscowlingdownatthetabletopwhenheisleftaloneagain,likeheisreadingsomeparticularlyoffensivewordthatapreviouspatronhadcarvedintoit.Dracochecks,butnothingisthere.

“Oh.It’syou.”Georgelookssurprisedforamoment,butthenhisexpressionsours.“Youwantanything?”

“Thoughtyouwerejustthrowingthingsoutthere?”Hehadbeen,likecrazy,throwingbottlesintohandsandpouringliquidintogiantmargaritaglasseswithoutcheckingthelabels,andevenwhenithadtobeadownrightdisgustingcombination,noonecomplained,justcoughedandsplutteredanddrankitallthesame.

“Well,normally,butseeingasit’syou,I’llmakeanexception.SoI’llrepeatmyself.”Hewasblunt,tonight.Dracosupposesitmustbehardforeveryoneelse,tohavegonefromafriendlyandcheerfulGeorgetothis,butnotforDraco,becausetohimthiswastheWeasleyhehadalwaysknown—alittlesharp,alittlebrusque,thekindofintelligentthatwasjustashadeshyofcruel.“Whatdoyouwant?”

“Justabeer,thanks,”Dracosaid,settlingdownontoastool,wonderingwhytheyhadstuckhimbackhere,ofallpeople,andthenrealizingthatitmighthavebeenthekindestplaceforhim.Georgehadtoldhimoncethateveryconversationwasjustareminderofthelinesthatneverwouldbesaid,wherepeopleautomaticallylooktohisleftfortheechoofhisjokesonlytofindemptyair,thathecan’ttakeit.Hemighthavehadaneasiertimebackhere,whereheisawayfromthejumbledmassoflimbsandpeopleonlywantingthepersonheusedtobe,safefromsmalltalkandidlehands.

“Soboring,”Georgegriped,buthepassedthebottlealongallthesame,evenattemptingagrin.

Dracodoesn’twanttoask.Hewantstositandsulk,takepartinenoughsmalltalktopassthenightawaywithoutseeminglikeanarse,maybesearchoutHermionelaterandthenduckintopassonanotherroundofcongratulationswithLuna,thengohome,claimingamigraine.It’saplausibleexcuseandadoableplan,andnoneofitinvolvessittinghereandplayingtherapisttoGeorge,buthewashisfriend,andthatcomeswithacertainamountofresponsibility.

“Youalright,mate?Youseem…”Hepaused,becausethere’snowaytogiveanaccuratedescriptionwithoutbeingoffensive.“Down.”

“Yeah,I’mfine.”Georgesays,andDracocanseethemomentwherehechangeshismindanddecidestotellthetruth,anactualrippleacrosshisface.“No,I’mnot.I’mshit,actually.”

Heswears,alongstringofitjusttomakehimselffeelbetter,andthepeopleclosesttothemstare,ahuddleofRavenclawsthatDracocanonlyvaguelyremember.

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