分卷阅读31（1 / 2）

Harry nodded again.

Hermione smiled. “So how well does he kiss?”

Again Harry blanched. “Hermione!”

“Answer the question.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Really well.”

“Better than Cho?”

“Yes…”

“Would you do it again?”

“…Yes…”

In an almost childish nature, Hermione poked Harry’s shoulder and said in a sing-song voice. “I know who Harry li-ikes.”

“And I, for one, am going to forget I just heard this conversation,” an aristocratic drawl spoke from behind them.

Harry paled, realizing that Draco had been standing there for who knew how long.

Chapter 18: Leaving Egypt

Draco wasn’t surprised when Harry didn’t follow him into their rooms. Oh Merlin, their rooms. Since when had it become “their” rooms instead of “his” rooms? Draco sighed, running his fingers through still damp hair. “Probably on the same day I fell on top of him,” he muttered into the still room and then paused. “Salazar, that sounded so wrong.”

Draco forced himself to go through the routine of getting ready for sleep, a process that took hours since he was so particular (the real reason why he made sure to get all the homework he would do for a day done before supper), before realizing that Medusa would have closed the portrait by now, which meant Harry still couldn’t get in. And there would be no way he could get in until Draco told Medusa to open it.

“Oh well. His fault.” Draco shrugged noncommittally even as he contradicted himself by getting out of bed and sitting down on the couch with the comforter, which he had unceremoniously pulled off of his bed, to wait for Harry to bang on the portrait again. Within ten minutes however, he was sound asleep.

Harry brooded, sitting up on the end of Ron’s bed, as his was currently a few floors down in the dungeons.

“Harry, I’ve got to say that brooding about it won’t make the situation go away, mate,” Ron finally said with the air of one resigned for a long argument.

Harry looked pointedly at him. “Ron, if Draco Malfoy had just found out that you liked him, what would you do?”