ce.

“But how will I be able to go there if I don’t know—”

“I’ll do it for you,” Draco interrupted him. He waited until Potter had found his balance. He looked wary.

“We’re not going to see your mother, are we?” he asked.

Draco’s lips stretched into a smirk. “You can stand up to the Dark Lord but you’re afraid of my mother?”

Potter gave him a dark look that was more teasing than serious.

Draco chuckled. “Ready?” he asked. Slowly, Potter nodded. Draco took a pinch of floo powder, trying to calm Potter with a smile. It almost seemed to be working. Until…

“Hogwarts, Headmistress McGonagall’s office!” Surprise and apprehension flashed across Potter’s face before he vanished. Draco lost no time, stepping into the fireplace himself immediately, to follow Potter.

“Ah, there you are,” McGonagall said, a warm smile on her face.

“Headmistress,” Draco nodded in greeting. He took in Potter’s tense shoulders, the way he was wringing his hands.

“Please, sit down.” McGonagall gestured to the chairs in front of her desk.

Draco gave Potter a little nudge, since he seemed to be frozen in place.

“It’s good to see you both. Even though, I must admit, I’m a little surprised,” McGonagall said after Draco had pushed Potter down in his seat. Draco remained standing, one hand still on Potter’s shoulder.

“Now, what’s this about, Malfoy? You were very ominous about wanting to see me. It sounded urgent.”

Draco cleared his throat, hoping Potter wouldn’t hate him for what he was about to do.

“Yes, well, it’s not exactly my place to tell,” he said. His eyes flickered down to where Potter was pressing his palms against his thighs. “But I think this needs to be said.”

Potter looked up, over his shoulder, his expression full of anguish. “I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” he hissed.

“It will eat you alive if you don’t tell her now,” Draco whispered. He turned to McGonagall, who was watching them closely. “Potter has something to tell you, Headmistress. I’ll be waiting outside.” Before he could withdraw his hand from Potter’s shoulder, he felt trembling fingers curl around it.

“Please don’t go,” Potter said quietly.

Draco blinked. “Are—Are you sure?”

“I can’t do this without—” He broke off, obviously trying not to choke. Warmth, like he had never felt before, washed over Draco. Nobody had ever needed him. Not like this.

No longer hesitating, he sat down next to Potter, who didn’t let go of his hand.

The following silence felt very ufortable. Draco could practically feel Potter’s panic.

“Potter, for goodness sake, what’s the matter?” McGonagall asked, her voice sounding more serious than before.

“Um…”

Draco’s heart gave a painful squeeze when Potter tightened his grip on his hand.

“Headmistress, I—” His voice was shaking. “I—I let you down. I’m sorry.”

Draco peeked at McGonagall. One of her eyebrows was raised, making her look more stern. A classic McGonagall move.

“What in the name of Merlin are you on about, Potter?”

Potter exhaled loudly and Draco could hear all the dread he must have been feeling.

“I—I’m not—” He kept his eyes on their joined hands. “I—I quit the Auror program.” His face twisted, as though he was in pain. “I’m sorry.”

McGonagall’s face was unreadable. She studied Potter for a long moment, her eyes flickering to Draco every now and then.

“Oh. I see,” she finally said. “And how exactly does that correspond with you ‘letting me down’?” she said, putting emphasis on the last few words, to stress that those weren’t her words.

“Isn’t that obvious?” Potter said, gaping at her.

“Potter, I don’t like being depicted as slow or inane, so you’ll have to be a bit more specific.”

Even Draco shuddered at her words. Merlin, did she know how scary she could be sometimes? She probably did.

“You, um…In fifth year, err…when Umbridge said—You…you said you’d—”

“Potter, stop mumbling,” McGonagall interrupted him, though her tone wasn’t as snappish as her words. “Unless you’re here to tell me you murdered somebody, it can’t be as bad as you obviously think it is.”

Potter gulped. “But it is bad. You helped me get into that program and I—I—”

Draco felt Potter’s palm getting sweaty. When it was clear he wasn’t going to continue, McGonagall cleared her throat.

“May I speak freely, Potter?”

Slowly, Potter nodded while squeezing Draco’s hand so hard it was beginning to be painful.

“You were epted into that program because of what you did to save the entirety of the Wizarding World. And also,” she raised her voice when Potter’s expression darkened, “because you are an exceptional wizard. All I did was encourage you to work harder while you were here at Hogwarts.”

“But Headmistress—”

“Potter, I didn’t storm into the Ministry and demand they make you an Auror. You did it by yourself.”

“Still, I—You must be disappointed in me.”

“Disappointed?” McGonagall echoed. She pressed her lips into a tight line before she spoke again. “Let me ask you this, Potter. Why did you quit the Auror program?”

“I—It’s not—It’s not what I thought it would be. I just—” His shoulders slumped. “I don’t want to be an Auror anymore.”

“There you have it, then,” McGonagall said, leaning back in her chair. Potter stared at her, incredulity written all over his face. McGonagall sighed. “Potter, you really think I’d be disappointed in you? After everything you did? It’s not your duty to be an Auror. It’s your duty to find something you want to do.”

Potter’s eyes widened. “But—But—”

“Potter!”

“Headmistress,” Draco said softly. “He’s—” He glanced at Potter, his heart twisting. “He’s been having a really hard time with this.”

Surprise flashed across McGonagall’s features. Her eyes rested on Potter as her expression slowly softened. “Potter, I think you misunderstood.” At that, Potter’s eyes snapped up to hers. “When I promised you to help you be an Auror, it was a promise to help you fulfill your dreams. Dreams change. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Even though the words weren’t directed at him, Draco felt warmth spread through his chest and a tingling sensation in his fingers. It took him a moment to realise that the tingling was actuallying from Potter. It was his magic.

“You defeated the greatest evil our world ever had to face. You carried that burden for almost 18 years. If anyone deserves to do whatever the hell they want, it’s you.”

Draco almost burst out laughing. He loved it when McGonagall swore.

“And I’ll promise you again, I’ll do everything in my power to help you do it.”

“Headmistress…”

Draco could feel the disbelief and gratitude radiating from Potter; he wondered if Potter even realised what his magic was doing right now, seeping into Draco. It felt so intimate.

“The question is, what do you want to do?” McGonagall asked.

“I have absolutely no idea,” Potter answered, sounding ashamed.

“Not even one?”

“Well, I guess it would be nice to be helping people.”

If Draco hadn’t been so distracted by the sensation of Potter’s magic, he would have rolled his eyes. Of course Potter wanted to dedicate his time to other people.

McGonagall nodded, resting her forearms on her desk and intertwining her fingers.

“It seems to me there’s a fairly easy and obvious solution for that,” she said.

“What?” Potter blinked. “There is?”

“Of course! Why don’t you just join Malfoy in—”

“Headmistress,” Draco interrupted her.

“What? Oh. You haven’t told him?”

“Told me what?” Potter said, looking confused.

Shit. Draco had told McGonagall their arrangement should be kept a secret under all circumstances. She was the last person he had expected to blab his secret.

“What is it?” Potter pressed.

“I’m sorry,” McGonagall told Draco, “I thought you two…” The rest of the unspoken sentence had Draco’s mind spinning. She obviously thought they were close enough for Draco to share his secret with Potter.

“Ugh, just tell him,” Draco sighed. He didn’t want to explain it himself.

“Very well,” McGonagall said. “About two years ago, Mr. Malfoy approached me with an idea.”

“What kind of idea?”

“An infant school.”

“What?” Potter’s head whipped around to stare at Draco. “That school was your idea?”

“Ah, so you do know about it.”

“He took me there,” Potter murmured without taking his eyes off Draco. “But I didn’t know…”

“Well, he was rather persuasive,” McGonagall said with the tiniest hint of a smile. “How did you put it? ‘We don’t need another lunatic who wants to take over the world because he thinks he’s better than everyone.’”

Draco snorted. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

“What convinced me most,” McGonagall continued, “was what you said about wizarding children being united before theye here. While dividing them into houses isn’t meant to be pitting them against each other, I can’t deny it’s a natural course, especially with Gryffindors and Slytherins.” Her mouth curved upwards. “But it’s nice to see that can turn out well.”

Draco coughed, feeling heat rush to his cheeks.

“Oh, before I et,” McGonagall said, “Professor Flitwick wanted to give you some documents on spellwork. He was going to owl it to you, but since you’re here…” She got out of her seat. “I’ll be right back.”

Draco could tell Potter was dying to talk to him, but he waited until McGonagall had closed the door behind her.

“Are you fucking serious?” he blurted.

Draco tried to keep his face impassive. “What?”

“You don’t just volunteer at that school! It was your idea? It’s your school?”

“Nobody knows about this Potter, about my involvement at least. Pansy and Blaise know, oh, and Luna, but I made them swear not to tell anybody.”

“Why?”

“Not everybody wants to be in the spotlight,” Draco shrugged.

“Yeah,” Potter said thoughtfully. “But still, what you’re doing—”

“Let’s not talk about that anymore,” Draco interjected. The way Potter was looking at him, almost awestruck, was making him ufortable.

“But—”

“Maybe what McGonagall said wasn’t the worst idea. We could need more help.”

Potter still looked flabbergasted.

“Who would have thought it woulde to this?” Draco quipped, shaking his head. Potter seemed to regain hisposure at Draco’s words.

“I can’t believe you dragged me here and—”

He stopped talking when Draco squeezed his hand.

“Don’t you feel better now?” he asked.

Potter shot him a dark look. “Maybe,” he grumbled. “Still, you could have at least warned me.”

“I thought it was better this way. You always did your best work under pressure,” Draco smirked. “I wouldn’t have done it if I thought you couldn’t handle it.”

Potter briefly closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“I guess it was a pretty nice thing to do,” he murmured. When he opened his eyes, they were so soft and warm, it felt like he was seeing right into Draco’s heart. “You knew what she was going to say, didn’t you?”

“Obviously I didn’t,” Draco snorted. “Otherwise, I would have been prepared to be exposed.”

“But you knew she wouldn’t be disappointed in me.”

“That I knew,” he murmured. “I hope this makes you realise that most of the pressure you’ve been feeling was put on you by yourself. It’s your life, your choices, nobody else’s.”

Pot

本站無廣告，永久域名（fanyan.cc）