分卷阅读33（2 / 2）

“Oh, yes, a butterbeer, please.”

Draco nodded, making his way to the kitchen. He was pretty sure George and Luna started talking about him the second he was gone, but he didn’t mind. George had every right to be sceptical. Honestly, Draco had no idea why Luna liked him. Most days, Draco didn’t like himself, so how could anybody else?

He let out a sigh in relief when he found the kitchen was empty. Well, except for more balloons. How many were there? He helped himself to a glass of red wine which, shockingly, tasted far better than he would have thought, given this was Weasley’s party.

“Hey, where’d you get that glass?”

Draco turned around, startled, and found a young man with sandy brown hair smiling at him.

“Right here,” he said, handing him one.

“Thanks,” he said, reaching for the firewhiskey. “I’m Henry by the way.”

“Draco.”

“Oh, you’re Draco Malfoy, aren’t you?” Henry said, stretching out his hand. Draco shook it warily. When people recognised him by his name, they usually started talking about the past. And even though this Henry guy seemed friendly enough, Draco was in no mood to talk about his days as a Death Eater with a stranger.

“That’s me,” he said in a clipped tone, sipping at his wine.

“Harry told me so much about—”

“Ah, you met Henry.”

Draco almost choked. His eyes widened as he took in the bright grin on Potter’s face as he entered the kitchen. It was such a shocking sight; not only because Draco hadn’t expected to see Potter grinning at him after what had happened between them, but…because…

Holy fucking Mother of Merlin!

Bloody Potter had a bloody beard now. And not just a little stubble from being too lazy to shave for a few days, a full-on, raven-black beard. Shit. Shit! It made him look absolutely delectable. And as if to mock Draco, the prat had chosen to dress nicely for a change.

As Draco eyed the collar of the blue dress shirt and the tie, he wondered if Potter was indeed wearing this to irritate him. Surely, Luna had told him she would be bringing Draco. That would also explain why he didn’t look surprised at all to find him in Weasley’s kitchen. Besides, he knew Potter. This wasn’t an outfit he’d normally choose for himself. The grey jumper he was wearing on top looked incredibly soft; was that cashmere? Potter didn’t wear cashmere!

Draco was suddenly startled out of his thoughts when he noticed Potter had curled an arm around Henry’s hip. It was a very possessive gesture, one that said ‘He’s mine, back off’. Only, Draco couldn’t have cared less about Henry.

“Oh, how lovely,” he said with a fake smile while his insides started to boil. Potter was dating someone? He was dating someone? And he was parading him in front of Draco like a show dog. Seriously? Seriously?

They all flinched when several balloons around the room suddenly burst. Henry looked this way and that, while Potter’s gaze flickered to Draco for a fraction of a second. Damn it, he needed to control his magic around Potter. And from the looks of it, the stupid prat knew exactly what was going on. Or he seemed to have his suspicions at least.

“Hey, Harry, Henry, could you guys come over here for a sec?” Granger called from the living room.