分卷阅读10（2 / 2）

Draco sputtered in surprise. “What?”

“Not just any pink either, neon pink.”

Draco’s steps wanted to drag themselves towards the doors to the Great Hall, but Draco was a Malfoy and Malfoys did not ever drag their footsteps, so he was stuck walking slowly but purposefully. But Malfoy rules be damned, he stopped walking as he saw who waited for him at those doors.

“Crabbe, Goyle. What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you.”

Blunt as ever Crabbe, Draco thought, but he couldn’t help feeling a bit apprehensive. They might not have been the smartest brains in the school, but they had been his childhood friends and Draco was certain that, two on one, he would lose against them.

“Look, Draco, there’s a lot of stuff being said about you,” Goyle started. “But we don’t see a difference.”

Draco blinked. Then smirked. “Good one, Goyle,” he spoke. Yes, they might not have been the brightest of the bunch, but Crabbe and Goyle were as loyal as any Gryffindors once they had placed their loyalties. “Shall we go eat?”

Hushed whispers followed Draco as he made his way through the Great Hall, walking in the self-assured style only a Malfoy knew how to accomplish, completely ignoring what was being said. Behind him, Crabbe and Goyle glared at anyone who looked too long in the wrong way at Draco, and they had their work cut out for them it seemed.

Draco wasn’t paying attention to all that though, he was scanning the Slytherin tables, noticing the different colored auras. Reds, blues, greens, even a silver, but no black. None. Nothing close to black. Well, there went his first choice of life partner. Not that Draco was looking, mind you, he was just curious.

Taking his customary seat in-between Crabbe and Goyle, Draco caught sight of the staff table and noted with disappointment that Snape wasn’t there. He would have enjoyed seeing the professor surrounded by a seemingly pure aura.

His eyes swept over the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. Still no black. Tons of yellow, a few different shades of red, even some weird mix of purple and green, but no black. Maybe his soul mate wasn’t at Hogwarts?

Deciding, at least for the moment, that his soul mate must not be at Hogwarts since there were only a few chairs left (two of these being the chairs across from an apple-red- aura-Granger), Draco turned his attention back to his breakfast. The Slytherins were obviously split in their decisions about him, he noticed. One part thought it was a cool idea to have a student with the ability to spear anyone when angry, even if it was with a feather. After all, it was an interesting kind of power. The other group focused on the fact that it wasn’t pure wizard blood. The two halves of the Slytherin definition, it seemed. Luckily, most of his normal group of compatriots (such as Blaise, Pansy, and Nott) were in the first group.

Breakfast was a meal that always went by too fast in Draco’s opinion. Especially on a Monday, and this Monday was no different. But as Draco stood to make his way down to the dungeons for Potions a flicker of a particular aura caught his eye. Ebony black. A perfect duplicate of his own aura. Draco’s eyes widened as he registered who that aura belonged to, and blinked. The world instantly switched from glowy to normal, all auras disappearing, leaving only that person sitting at the Gryffindor table. Potter. Harry Potter. He had only seen the aura for a second before his Aspectus had stopped, but…was it Potter’s? Draco suddenly didn’t like this situation. He didn’t like this at all.

Chapter 6: In the Name of Denial

Harry wearily allowed Hermione to drag him down to the Potions classroom and tried to think of anything other than working on the blasted project with Malfoy of all people, while Snape would probably be watching for his slightest mistake and blaming him for breathing in the wrong interval or something. Yet, as the time wore on and the seconds clicked closer to the start of class, Snape had not appeared. All the students were in their seats, waiting somewhat nervously, for their professor to arrive in the flutter of robes and slamming doors as he had for the past five years and a few weeks running. Yet, as the clock ticked to the very second that class was supposed to start, their professor has still not graced the classroom with his presence.

In the stunned silence of the room, Blaise’s whisper to Draco was deafening, “If he doesn’t show up in ten minutes, I’m leaving.”

There were a few slight smiles as the students pondered this, but all smiles soon dropped from their faces as a voice answered, “I’m sure that won’t be necessary, Mr. Zambini.”