分卷阅读28（2 / 2）

There’s screaming again, but this time, Harry stays in bed.

He counts the cracks in the ceiling, discovers that there’s fifty-seven of them, and then counts them again. And again. He keeps trying to tell himself everything is fine, that no one is attacking anyone, that there is nothing hiding in his closet or under the bed, that if anything, he needs to call Hermione like she had told him to, anything to stop this before it starts, because Draco is fine, you are fine, stop being an idiot.

Only everything must not have been fine, because the door creaks open a second later. Harry almost hexes the person standing in the doorway before the brain catches up with his panic and he realizes that it was Draco he was about to send to St. Mungo’s.

“Draco?” He sits up and blinks against the blurry image in front of him, groping in the darkness for his glasses. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t say anything.” Even though Harry had heard it every day, he still wasn’t used to this pleading tone in Draco’s voice, how he asks instead of demands, and asks it in a way that made it clear he was expecting to be turned away each time. “Please don’t say anything.”

“Okay.” Harry didn’t understand what he was supposed to do. He didn’t know how to help anyone, anymore. “What do you want?”

“Can I just stay here?” He looked so small, hunched in on himself when he should be filling up the room. “Just for tonight.”

“Yeah.” Harry scrambles for the lamp and then winces at the sudden light, trying to clear a space beside him. It was an incredibly small bed. “Anything.”

Anything. It was such a small word, but it meant so much. Draco didn’t seem to have time for second thoughts tonight, just walked to the edge of the bed, hesitating before going any further.

“It’s alright Draco.” Harry reaches up and pulls Draco’s hand away, the one he had been using to claw at his arm. “It’s going to be okay.”

“It won’t,” Draco says, shoulders shuddering, but he still gets into the bed, falling into it more than climbing, like it had taken all his strength just to get this far. He buries himself in the covers and turns away from Harry, leaving him to decide how to do this.

You said you were the brave one, Harry thinks, reaching his arm around Draco and hoping he won’t be turned away this time. You said you’d be the one to make this easier for him.

He’s not sure that it’s going to let them sleep easier, but it has to be better to count each other’s breaths than count cracks in the ceiling. Harry just hopes that Draco feels the same way.

Chapter 23

Harry

They’re both staring down at the owl.

It’s a tight scroll, the ministry signature embossed across the seal in wax so golden it almost seems to shimmer. Neither of them make a move to break it open, too afraid of what might be hiding inside—a death notice, an arrest warrant, a call to arms, or maybe even worse, a notice that Draco was somehow forgiven and would be free to leave any moment he so chooses. In Harry’s experience, the ministry rarely brings good news.

“Do you want to open it?” Draco’s voice is hushed. They’ve both gotten quiet since the whole sleeping in the same bed thing started, like now they didn’t need to worry about drawing attention to each other. Whenever Draco wanted noticing, Harry was already looking.