rents out house elves, a full staff of them where she could pick one to hold on retainer for nights like this, that the wine didn’t really match with what she was serving but that her choice in art work was impable, all these lessons he had learned without meaning too—but then Percy stood up, clearing his throat and tapping a fork against his glass, like this was some Jane Austen novel and he was their lead man.

“If I could have your attention.” He says it like he’s conducting an orchestra, but maybe that’s what it took, to make a family of nine pay attention to you. And Luna. It was hard to grab Luna’s attention. “I didn’t just call you here for a family get together. I call you here because I have an announcement.”

Draco wonders how long he’d waited to have a moment like this, where everyone was hanging onto his last word, waiting to hear what wonderful thing he had done now. Too long, probably.

“You’re all familiar with the archiving assignment I have undertaken. Many of you played instrumental roles in the process. And now it’spleted.” There’s a cheer, led by Ginny, and instead of getting upset at being interrupted like Draco had expected, Percy just smiles, riding the wave and waiting until it died down again. “The ministry has elected to open the records up to the public. There’s going to be a ceremony, and the people who shared their stories are to be invited.” He beams down at all of them. “Hermione will be opening the ceremony. I’ll be there too, of course.”

There’s another cheer, this one led by Ron, who grabs Hermione by the waist and spins her around despite her protests. When he sets her down, they all converge on Percy, hugging him, burying him in the midst of family.

Ge isn’t a part of it.

Neither is Penelope. She’s standing on the sidelines with Draco, watching them all.

“This is all he ever wanted. To be loved by them like this.” Penelope does not look like the epitome of grace now—there is a slouch to her shoulders and a stain on her skirt and a strand of hairing loose, but now, Draco can see why Percy has been taken with her so long. “I just wish that they had figured out how to do it sooner.”

Don’t we all, Draco thinks. The one thing we’re good at is loving too late.

It’s fast, after that.

Bill leaves first, then Charlie, and then the rest of the kids leave at the same time, pulling on their jackets and saying their good-byes so fast it didn’t hide how desperate they were to leave.

“Merlin.” Ron shakes his head, squinting up at the streetlights the way he always does when they reach a muggle town. “I love Percy, but he can be a drag sometimes.”

“I don’t know.” Hermione glanced over at him, but she hadn’t need to—they always seem to know each other, like the way they were caught in the other’s orbit means there was no possibility of falling out of step. “He wanted to make you guys proud.”

“We are proud. We’ve always been proud.” Ginny looks from her brother and Hermione, back to Harry. “He had to have known that, right?”

“Some people have a hard time believing what they can’t touch. What they can’t see.” Luna talks a bit more like them, now, less likely she was caught in a dream and more like someone had finally forced her to wipe the stardust that had gathered in her eyes. It was sad, because now she had to see life the way it really was. “You can’t do it all the time—even I have to wonder whether gnargles are around here.”

“Well, there is very little evidence they exist, Luna,” Hermione starts, and Draco gives her the benefit of the doubt by thinking she meant it to beforting.

“Don’t be silly.” Luna fixes her with a glare. “There have been definite sightings in North America.”

There’s a shocked moment of silence, and then they burst out laughing, Ron first, and then all of them, right in the middle of the street where anyone could look down and see them. Ginny’s laughing so hard there are tears in her eyes, then she’s digging in her coat pocket, cursing under her breath. “Damn it. Damn it all to Hell, Luna, I was going to do this later, do it right, but—” she sinks down to one knee, even though there was mud on the pavement and it was soaking through the legs of her jeans. “I’m never going to love you more than I do right this second, I think.”

She’s holding up a ring. It’s small, and elegant, and simple, like it was built for Luna. “Luna Lovegood,” She says, and her voice is shaking with the effort of keeping herself contained. “Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

Luna stares down at her, as unbothered by this as she had been by every other thing. For a heart stopping moment, Draco thinks she might say no, but then her face cracks open in a smile and she sinks to her knees. “I suppose.”

“She supposes.” Ron says, his voice that tone of unfathomable disbelief he always uses when Luna says something that he doesn’t understand. “You hear that everyone?” He has turned his face upward and screamed it to the skylights. “She supposes!”

“You ever think about that?” They are walking home, even though they could apparate, because this is one of those nights where you do not want to go home, that you want to prolong for as long as you can. “Marriage?”

“About as much as I think about the rest of the future.” It’s a cop out kind of answer, and Draco knows it, so he tries again. “I can never quite picture it. The future gets all fuzzy whenever I want to form a clear image, like maybe I’m still not used to the idea that I’m going to get to have it.”

“But if you were.” Harry insists. He is shorter than Draco now, because Draco is balancing on the curb like it is a tightrope, arms spread out in the air beside him. “What would it be like?”

“Terrifying, I think.” Draco does think about it, about a house and kids but none of the detailse in clear, other than the fact that he would have a broken down old shed for his potions supplies and one of his kids should be named after his father, to do right where he had done wrong like some twisted form of redemption that his own father would not try to reach for, and whenever he thinks of the person he is going to spend his life with they have started to have Harry’s face, now, so different from the life he had thought of a few years ago, where he was thinking in terms of appearance and heirs and legacy. “To trust someone that much.”

“Wouldn’t it be worth it though?” Harry’s voice is quieter than it should be, like the words were being knocked loose from somewhere in his chest. “To have someone that you love so much?”

Draco doesn’t answer. He slips and stumbles but does not fall, because Harry is there, putting his hands on his waist and pulling him down to the solid ground at the same time he is pushing him upright, helping him standing again.

“I think so.” Draco whispers, giving him an answer without saying anything at all, even though he thinks now would be a perfect time to say I love you, I need you, please run away with me. “I’m still figuring that part out.”

本站無廣告，永久域名（fanyan.cc）