分卷阅读1（2 / 2）

Of course, this was the very reason he was going to the bar, but Blaise didn’t need to know that.

“I’ll be right back,” he simply said and made his way through the crowd, feeling more wobbly on his feet than he had anticipated. He deliberated switching to water instead of having another glass of wine. He definitely shouldn’t be tipsy while Potter was around.

As he reached the bar, he peeked over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of Blaise with his most dazzling smile on his face. It appeared Draco had left at exactly the right time. But judging from the way Blaise was stroking Potter’s arm, it was very clear his friend shouldn’t be left alone with Potter. Damn it, where was Pansy when you needed her? Although, Draco doubted that would have stopped Blaise from shamelessly flirting with Potter. Or anyone for that matter.

Draco’s eyes wandered over to Potter, who looked a bit flustered. He drank in the rosy tint on his cheeks, his clean shaven skin, the line of his jaw, the shape of his lips…

Why couldn’t Potter be one of those people who, when you met them years later, suddenly looked hideous and nothing like you remembered them? Why couldn’t he have wrinkles all over his face or a lazy eye or a hunched back? Of course he had to waltz in here, looking even more attractive than he had in school. Why was the world so unfair?

It was suddenly brought to Draco’s attention that there was another thing that hadn’t changed one bit. Potter’s eyes were still so mesmerising, you could drown in them, forget everything around you. Draco almost did, except…there was a reason that realisation had suddenly hit him. Potter was staring right at him. Draco felt like the rug had been pulled out from under his feet. A cold shiver ran down his spine, followed by a hot flash that prompted him to subtly lay his hand on the bar for support.

Countless times he had taken a look at the Daily Prophet, only for Potter to stare at him from the front page. Draco always scowled back, sometimes he even stuck out his tongue at the picture. But now…It really wasn’t the same, seeing Potter in person. The most significant difference was, he always looked displeased in those pictures. Now, he looked… not shocked but…almost startled. Why, though?

Draco’s eyes widened as Potter’s lips slowly stretched into the ghost of a smile. He suddenly felt like the Whomping Willow had smacked him in the side of his head. He let out the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding when Potter turned his attention back to Blaise, nodding and smiling politely.

Draco briefly closed his eyes, willing himself to pull it together. But the tingling in the pit of his belly was hard to ignore. He had known this evening would be…challenging, but inviting Potter had been the smart move to make. Draco would suffer through it. For the greater good, so to speak. Inviting Potter to an event automatically sparked the interest of the whole Wizarding World, and that was what Draco needed, no matter how much he disliked it.

It seemed so long ago that he had been a guest to events like this himself, and had actually enjoyed himself. All these rich and pompous people were so incredibly boring and irritating, he couldn’t wait for this night to be over. All he wanted was their money, and he often wondered if they even cared what he was doing with it. So, yes, inviting Potter was smart, because it meant more money. The fact that Draco could watch him from afar was merely a pleasant side effect. But he had to be careful. It couldn’t be anything more than that.

When he opened his eyes, Potter and Blaise were still in conversation, although Blaise did most of the talking. Taking a deep breath, Draco turned around and ordered another glass of wine. Being tipsy around Potter might not be a good idea but there was no way he could endure this sober. He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes scanning the room for Pansy, when someone cleared their throat beside him. Draco already knew who it was before he turned around, mentally cursing everyone and everything.

“Hey Malfoy,” Potter said with a weird expression on his face.

Draco arched an eyebrow and stayed silent. ‘Hey Malfoy?’ That was his big opening after they hadn’t seen each other in over a year? Really? Well, not that they were friends. They were nothing, really.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he continued.

Draco resisted the urge to scowl at him. “Why? Am I not allowed to enjoy myself?”

“What, no, that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh, I see,” Draco snapped. “It’s because this is a charity gala and how in Merlin’s name could I be—”

“Ugh, Malfoy,” Potter interrupted him. “Stop putting words into my mouth. I’m just surprised to see you, that’s all.” His eyes darted down to the floor and back up to Draco’s face. “It’s, err, it’s a nice surprise.”

Draco blinked. What? What did Potter mean by ‘nice surprise’? Was he taking the piss?