分卷阅读10（1 / 2）

Harry groaned as he remembered the cascade of water that had been used to drag him from his bed last week.

“—and you never know, maybe Snape will want to cancel class today too.”

Nothing.

“Sorry, mate you asked for it.”

And Harry yelped as cold water flooded down on top of him.

Draco also was having a hard time getting his own self down to breakfast. His was not a sleep problem, no he had gotten up as he always did, and had gone through his normal morning routine…his was a different sort of problem. A dread kind of problem. He had awoken to his second Aspectus, which had reminded him that this would be a horrible day. All night he was sure that the rumor mill of Hogwarts had been churning, and now at breakfast the finest gossip Hogwarts could offer would be handed to him on a silver platter. Well, not literally, but close enough. Draco entertained the thought of just not going to breakfast and appearing in his godfather’s class for Potions, the one place where he knew he could find some amount of sympathy this morning. But he was a Malfoy, and Malfoys did not care what people thought of them…sometimes he wished he could change some of these rules.

“Draco, get up. You will not be late,” his father’s voice sounded on the other side of the painting that was the door.

“Coming father,” Draco murmured, and crossed his room to the door. Opening it, he found his father waiting for him as per the normal morning routine…and for the first time Draco saw his father’s aura.

Lucius saw his son blink in surprise and smirked. “Not what one expects is it?”

Father and son began walking towards the entrance to the Forbidden Forest as they did every morning.

“Not really…it’s red.”

“Imagine my chagrin, waking up to find it’s not just any red, Draco. It’s Gryffindor red.”

“Ouch.”

Lucius nodded. “But it’s even more curious to see how closely Gryffindor red resembles blood red.”

Draco frowned, thinking. He blinked in surprise when he realized his father was right. The color of the Lions was close to a bloody red. Strange.

“It’s not as bad as some,” Lucius commented. “I’d rather have red than…well your godfather’s for instance…or the Dark Lord’s.”

“Why?”

“Well, your godfather’s is pure white. Not a very evil aura that’s for sure, and one that doesn’t fit his lifestyle at all. And Voldemort’s…is…pink.”