分卷阅读46（2 / 2）

“Potter,” Draco said, trying to stay calm. “You’re so many things, but you’re not a freak.” At that, Potter huffed and turned away again. Draco had no idea what to say. He tried to put himself in Potter’s shoes, tried to imagine how agonising it must be for him. “Potter, please,” he said, beseechingly, “tell me. Just tell me what happened that night at the Manor.”

“I thought Luna already told you everything,” Potter said, stubbornly.

“Don’t be mad at her. She was only trying to help. Besides, if it wasn’t for her, I probably wouldn’t be here right now.” Slowly, Draco let his hand glide down and curled his fingers around Potter’s forearm. “And hearing theories from Luna isn’t the same as you telling me what happened. I want to know what you were thinking when…we were together.”

Potter looked torn. It took several moments until he finally spoke. “I really like you, Draco,” he whispered.

Whatever Draco had expected, it certainly hadn’t been this. He tried to tune out the sudden whooshing in his ears and concentrate on Potter’s raspy voice instead.

“It’s almost like…when I’m around you, things don’t feel as bad.”

Draco was grateful Potter paused after that. That was a lot to take in.

“I—I thought—” He felt the muscles in Potter’s arm clench. “I thought I would be okay with—I thought I could—”

“Could what?” Draco said softly. Potter only shook his head. “What are you so afraid of? What could be so bad you can’t tell me?”

“I—I kept thinking—”

Seeing Potter struggling like this made Draco want to punch someone; Potter’s Muggle relatives, those awful reporters—he would hex them all if they’d ever crossed paths.

“What were you thinking?” he said quietly, hoping it would encourage Potter to finally say it.

“How could someone as beautiful as you—”

Draco froze. Potter wasn’t going to say what Draco thought he was going to say, right? Because if he did, Draco would have to shout at him. Again. Knowing that Potter would immediately close off if he did that, he tried to stay calm and wait for Potter to continue. When he did, his voice was barely a whisper.

“How could someone as beautiful as you want to be with someone…someone like me.”

Potter couldn’t be serious. But obviously, he was.

“Potter,” Draco said, carefully shifting closer. “Potter, look at me.” He placed a hand on his cheek, marvelling at the feeling of Potter’s beard against his palm. “Please?” Hesitantly, Potter lifted his head. The look on his face broke Draco’s heart. “You know that’s nonsense, right?” he whispered, looking squarely into Potter’s eyes. “You’re gorgeous.”

“No, I’m n—”

“How can you be so unaware of the effect you have on people?” He let out a shuddering breath. “On me.”

He felt Potter shiver beneath his touch. He seemed surprised but also sceptical. What could Draco say to make him feel better? He had absolutely no clue. But maybe words weren’t the right thing to go by here.