分卷阅读22（2 / 2）

And Lucius smiled thinly over his drink. Yes, though Potter didn’t know it yet, he was slowly falling for Draco. One only had to have seen the way Potter had cradled his son’s body almost protectively to himself as they emerged from the forest to know that…and the best part was that Potter himself didn’t realize it. Draco wouldn’t realize his feelings either, though, and that caused Lucius to frown slightly. Draco had been obsessed with Potter ever since…what, First Year? Second? Too young to realize those types of emotions when they started, but the Veriae inside him must have realized it at their first meeting. So Draco’s life had begun to revolve slowly but surely around Potter. Except Draco assumed it was his hatred that kept him driving to best Potter at anything and everything.

Lucius smirked now, his eyes gazing out over the grounds of Hogwarts. Those two would be in for an interesting time when they finally figured out their emotions. It would take a while, but it would happen. And Draco would never need to go through the same pain that he did when Voldemort had killed his intended.

Lucius vaguely heard someone speaking to the portrait outside his room before the door opened and Snape walked into the room, stopping when he saw the serene look on Lucius’s face.

“Alright, what is it that has you this happy at this time in the morning?”

Lucius smirked at the Potions Master. “Were I to tell you, you would most likely suffer cardiac arrest. Believe me, you do not want to know.”

Snape looked questioningly at Lucius but didn’t push the matter; after all he had First Year Ravenclaws and Slytherins to teach this morning.

By the time Harry had showered, dressed, and gotten the things he needed for classes ready, Draco had left the room without so much as a word in his direction. This suited Harry just fine anyway, as they’d been playing the “you don’t exist and are just a figment of my imagination” game since that ever so interesting conversation they’d had when they woke up.

Walking down to the Great Hall where the sounds of breakfast could be heard, Harry’s mind went over what happened on Wednesdays. Wednesdays were nice because he only had one class, even though it was doubled. It was that one class that made the day ever so boring. Divination. Yeah…boring with a capital B. But Harry had to take at least one elective and it was easy, so he was rather stuck.

Ron and Hermione had saved him a spot at the table and Harry gratefully sank into it and started in on breakfast.

“So how was the night with Ferret?” Ron asked over a mouthful of eggs.

Harry shrugged. “Nothing bad. We ignored each other the whole time.” Until I woke up in his bed, Harry mentally added, but he felt that wasn’t a mental picture that Ron needed.

“Nothing strange happened? Like with the bond?” Hermione asked.

“Not really. Malfoy had to touch me for an hour or so before the pain went away but that’s all that happened.”

Hermione looked as if she didn’t really believe him, and Ron looked like he was trying really hard not to throw up his food because of whatever image his brain was supplying him with.

“Not like that, Ron.” Harry sighed and his friend looked visibly relieved.

Halfway through breakfast, with all the mail owls flying around, a tawny school owl dropped a note on Harry’s plate, narrowly missing the pool of syrup that had flowed off his pancakes. Harry read it and frowned slightly.

“What is it?”