分卷阅读22（1 / 2）

“Let me see that,” Malfoy whispered in his ear, and Harry practically jumped. He hadn’t noticed him come up behind him. He handed Malfoy the paper and watched the grey eyes focus on one of the front page stories. Garius Santi named runner-up in the Miss Wizarding World Pageant—breaks record for oldest contestant and first ever male runner-up. Harry recognized the middle-aged man pictured in an alluring pose in a fuschia ball gown. “That’s the top most Unspeakable!”

Malfoy shot him a glare. “When you rammed into me, you sent us into the future, Potter.”

“Oh,” was all Harry could think to say in response. Then he looked back at the photo. “How is that your first reaction to Santi placing second in a beauty competition?” Malfoy shoved the paper into Harry’s chest and stalked out of the hotel muttering something about “Bloody Narcissus”.

Sighing, Harry went after him. When he caught up, Malfoy was tuning the Timepiece, adjusting several sets of arrows on different dials on the face of it. His lips were parted, as if baited and waiting for the culmination of something imperative. “Grab ahold of me, Potter.”

“What?” Harry burst.

“Last time you had barrelled into me,” Malfoy smirked. “I’m sure if you treat it like a side-along, it’ll work just fine.”

Harry stepped up and grasped Malfoy’s upper arm, the slight touch warm and electric.

“Where—when are we going?” Harry stammered, still taken aback by the tingle in his hand.

Malfoy’s smirk deepened and his eyes crinkled. “Back,” he said.

“Back when exactly?” Harry said. Malfoy winked, and then Harry was overwhelmed by the familiar feeling of falling with his feet planted firmly on the ground.

There was only so much one-sided conversation that one could have with a goddaughter whose soul was trapped in a kneazle’s body. Pansy had waited almost twenty minutes for Draco and Potter to come up to the room. She’d spent half of that time changing into something more appropriate for a ransom drop off and investigative trekking across Scotland. Staring at herself in the mirror, she smoothed the lines of her soft camel trench coat and lined the collar over the white silk blouse. Thick, black wool trousers completed the look, topped with a black fedora. If she was going to experience her undoing, she would at least look amazing.

She checked the time. They still had almost four hours until everyone was supposed to be back. Pansy’s nerves were making her sick. What if Hermione actually acquired all of the ransom demands? Would they take everything except the damned plant in exchange for Bertrice? How would they switch them back? She was going to talk herself into a oblivion if she kept on.

Pansy decided to flip through the books Longbottom gave them. She read about the history of inquollis anicorpus. Apparently at some point in the fifteenth century, a terrible wizard, Alexandr the Hornswoggler, tried to take over Russia using the soul-catcher. His attempt to get Ivan III almost succeeded but was stopped when one of his victims attacked him. The text was vague about who the victim was, merely stating that Alexandr died due to injuries from a wild goat stampede.

“A drink,” she said as Bertie slid against Pansy’s boots. She closed the book and stood. “I need a drink.”

Pansy found the hotel bar just as crowded as it had been that afternoon. She managed to steal a seat and order a Finisterial Calamité, her favorite drink. The bartender had just brought her the delightful green concoction, when the seat next to her vacated and another warm body shimmied up into it.

“Hello, Pansy,” Lovegood’s musical voice rang across the bar.

Turning, she took in the sight of the Ravenclaw woman. Lovegood had tamed her hair back into a bun, but otherwise looked exactly the same as when Pansy had seen her last, which had been a little more than hour ago. “Hello, Lovegood.” Pansy raised an eyebrow. “Come to check me for Tinsel Gnats?”

“I didn’t bring any gold dust,” Lovegood put her hand on Pansy’s arm. “Why? Does your sweat smell like eggnog?”

Pansy snorted. “Lovegood, what are you doing here?”