分卷阅读18（1 / 2）

Potter rolls his eyes. There’s a smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes, like a promise of something fun. “No, Malfoy.”

He stands up, crosses the room, and sits on the free space above Draco’s head. He rummages in his pocket once more and produces an old piece of folded parchment, which he lays on the bed in front of Draco’s face. “Come on, tap your wand here and say I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”

Resolutely ignoring Potter’s distance from him (or the utter lack of it), Draco glares at the parchment. “Are you fibbing with me?”

“No, I am not fibbing. You’re being difficult on purpose, aren’t you?”

Still suspicious, Draco gets his wand from his own pocket. It’s a new one, bought in a quick trip to Ollivanders’ on the last day of August, on the very same day that Kingsley Owled him to say that his magic ban was over. He had been nervous, and ashamed, to meet the old man again after what the Death Eaters did to him in their very own dungeons, but Garrick Ollivander had taken one look at him, disappeared within his shelves of boxes, and returned with a wand and forgiveness.

“10 inches, rowan wood and unicorn hair, young Draco Malfoy. No matter how dark the road, the value is in your persistence to find the light.”

It’s not the same as his old one, of course, but he doesn’t know where that is (Potter? The Ministry?) and he’s too scared to ask.

Holding his breath, Draco taps the parchment with his wand and says, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”

The parchment unfolds, and ink dances from the middle, towards the sides and the four corners, to form…

“Hogwarts,” he says, breathless. He props himself up on one elbow, eyes wide. He looks back at Potter with his mouth open in amazement.

Potter grins at him in reply. He taps the lower right corner, the Slytherin Dorms, right where their names are placed beside each other.

It’s definitely weird. Seeing their names together. They don’t match, after all.

“You weren’t at dinner,” Potter says, continuing their conversation. “I checked the Map and didn’t see you anywhere.”

Draco looks at the area labelled Great Hall. It’s empty, as expected. He doesn’t know what time it is, but it’s probably already after curfew. He thinks about the absurdity of Potter eating dinner, realizing that he’s not there, and going out of his way to check this ridiculous map of his just to look for him.

He blinks, tries to stop himself from feeling happy about it. “Other people might call this stalking,” he says instead.

Potter’s cheeks are pink. “Shut up, I was worried.”

He’s definitely happy. Damn Potter. “Worried that poor little Draco went bonkers and wandered off into the Lake?”

“Yes, Malfoy, is it that weird of me to worry about you? Now stop trying to piss me off, I’m trying to have a civil conversation here.”

Draco clears his throat loudly. He hopes the dark is doing its job covering his burning face. “Alright, so you didn’t see me in the Map, and assumed that I was in the Forest?”

“Well, it’s one of the places that isn’t shown on the Map, so I took a hunch.”