分卷阅读60（1 / 2）

Dumbledore said nothing until the door opened and Professor McGonagall entered the room. The deputy Headmistress had the total count of missing students. Not counting Harry and Draco, thirteen Slytherins were missing, along with five Ravenclaws, two Hufflepuffs, and three Gryffindors. All of the students were either six or seventh year students.

Dumbledore needed only to think for a moment before issuing the orders. Filch was to personally watch the front doors and leave them open for any students who were courageous enough to march in after being missing. All students were to remain in their Common Rooms until every student from that House was accounted for. The Heads of their respective Houses were to stay with their students in their Common Room. Dumbledore himself would cover the Slytherin House in Professor Snape’s absence. Hermione and Ron were to go back to the Gryffindor Common Room.

“Harry,” Dumbledore said through Draco’s muffled sobs. “Why don’t you take Draco back down to your rooms. I trust you will both stay there.” The twinkle was gone from his eyes as he spoke, a direct order, not a suggestion…though Harry doubted neither Draco nor himself would be doing much of anything at least until breakfast.

Harry helped Draco get to his feet and the new Malfoy patriarch walked solemnly out of the room. Harry had to admire Draco’s strength. If he had been in Draco’s position he doubted he would be able to think straight right now, much less be somewhat dignified. Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked out of Dumbledore’s office together, pausing at the foot of the stairs.

“You are going to tell us what happened right?” Ron asked tentatively.

Harry nodded. “What I saw of it anyway.”

Ron seemed satisfied and started off towards the Gryffindor Common Room, not realizing that Hermione lingered a moment longer.

“He’s going to need your support Harry.” Hermione said quietly, as if unsure how to approach the subject. “You might not have gone through the same thing he did, so you cannot feel his same emotions, but you can make sure other people stay away from him until he’s ready to face the world again.” She started walking to catch up with Ron, turning back when she thought of something. “And knowing Malfoy, it will be before he’s truly ready for it.” Then she too left Harry to walk after Draco towards their rooms.

Medusa was livid when Harry got to the portrait.

“What did you do!” she nearly screamed at him.

Harry ignored her and spoke the password. The gorgon continued to rant about whatever it was that Harry had done to make the poor Malfoy boy so miserable as she opened and Harry was sure that he could hear her continuing to speak about it, now in Parseltongue.

“You’re starting to repeat yourself,” Harry muttered, but he knew she wouldn’t hear him.

He found Draco in their bedroom, curled up on his bed in what muggles called the fetal position. His wings were curled around him as if to protect him from the world, but they opened as Harry drew near.

The boy was the personification of grief, and Harry wished at that moment to never see such a sight again. Strands of blond hair stuck to his face, held by the drying and still wet tears. His eyes had lost their luster, more of a dull gray than a vibrant silver. His fingers trembled as they held his knees to his chest.

Harry had never wished Voldemort dead quite like he did right now.

Harry approached the bed cautiously, slowly, unsure if Draco would push him away. Maybe Draco wouldn’t want him to be seen in this state. Yet, as Harry stepped close enough that he could have reached out and touched him, a wing encircled him and pulled him closer. Draco’s arms followed, and Harry found himself again with a lap full of a crying Malfoy.

“He’s dead.” Draco’s voice was riddled with sobs and heaves. “He’s gone. He’s not coming back.”

Harry didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything. What could one say? So he just held Draco and let the blond mutter broken sentences into his chest.

They stayed that way for a long time, until Draco’s sobs had slowed and his breathing evened. Harry realized that Draco had fallen asleep, worn himself out with crying.