分卷阅读19（2 / 2）

Draco does not know how things got so bad, so fast.

It was a good party. The party wasn’t for him, and no one was ever going to pull him onto a table and demand a speech like they did for Hermione, but he was having fun, stuck between George and Luna, listening them to them carry on with their off key renditions of Celestina Warbeck songs. He feels like he is part of the group, and for once, Draco feels like he is finally at a place where he is willing to put the past behind them.

And then Ron gets angry.

Draco had noticed that he was a barely contained time bomb, ready to fight at the slightest provocation, but it still stung, because all he had done was make the mistake of taking his guard down, of trying to belong. Draco made a joke, and Hermione was laughing, and then Draco was leaning over her, about to start a story that began with remember when about one of their rare good moments from Hogwarts, but then Ron was between them, shoving him away from Hermione, spitting in his face.

The room gets quiet, and Draco does not move, just stares down at the way that Ron’s hand was fisted in his shirt, wondering why he keeps finding himself in this position. This is what it felt like, He thought, in a dull, detached sort of way. All those people who you pushed around, this is what it felt like.

Behind him, George makes a move to get to his feet, but Ginny holds him back with just a touch to the arm. Maybe they thought that this was something they shouldn’t get in the middle of.

Draco really disagreed. He wanted anyone, even if it was someone that would never speak to him again, to rise to their feet and stand up for him, because this is not fair, this is not right, he did not do anything wrong this time. He’s trying, damn it.

“We’re not friends,” Ron spits, and the words are worse than if he had punched them. His voice is quiet, a terribly controlled silence, but everyone could hear. “Look around you. None of these people are your friends.”

He would not be saying this if things were normally, if he was sober, if there weren’t this many people demanding his attention. It was stressful for him, and it had finally boiled over. Draco wanted it to stop, but Draco cannot speak, cannot move to defend himself or walk away, because he was caught off guard and was just so, so stupid.

“They may have forgotten, they may have forgiven you just because Harry has, but I didn’t, okay, I remember all the things you said, all the things you did to us back in school, and I remember when you stood there and let innocent people get killed. So don’t act like your friends, and don’t you touch her.” Draco can hear a sound that might have been a disagreement from Hermione, but Draco cannot focus, because everyone is staring at him, and no one is rising to his defense.

“Ron—”

It sounded pathetic, even to himself. A pathetic word from a pathetic boy who cannot control his own life. And Ron knows it, can see how pathetic he is, like a worm about to be crushed.

“Get out my house.” The words are much louder, and Draco flinches away.

When he steps back, everyone is staring. No one is going to save him. And he is not willing to fight back, so he turns, ignoring Hermione’s cries and wrenches the door open, slams it behind him.

After that, it is easy, to stumble down the steps and out the door, into the cold night air and collapse against the brick for a moment before pushing away, down the street, towards the emptiness and the quiet and home, where no one would be able to make him feel like that again.

Harry

He needs to stop leaving Draco alone.

That’s the first thought he has, when he returns from the bathroom and finds everyone staring at Ron and Hermione, who were having a screaming match in the middle of the living room. He hears enough to know it is about Draco and that Draco has left, so he doesn’t bother to wait for an explanation from Ron, just grabs his coat and leaves, chasing down that figure in the darkness he was hoping was Draco.