分卷阅读20（1 / 2）

Astoria smiles at his careful reply, and starts to explain. “I mean, I’ve been trying to help him. We’ve known each other since childhood, you see. Our mothers visited each other a lot. Narcissa told me what happened to him in…” Here, she frowns, looking down at her hands clasped in front of her. With a sad look on her face, she turns back to Harry. “She asked me to help, but lately, it’s been getting worse, I think. And I can’t be there for him all the time. Especially during classes.”

Harry recalls that Astoria’s in sixth year.

It’s making sense now, then, the amount of time that she and Draco have been spending together. There’s a part of him that’s hurt, somehow, that Narcissa hadn’t asked him, which he desperately tries to squash down, because of course he wouldn’t have been able to help even if Narcissa had. Even though he and Draco are in the same year, they are still in different houses with different class schedules, and it’s not like they can very well eat together or spend time after curfew together.

And he is supposed to be happy that Draco has other people to talk to and watch over him. He is. He’s also just a bit…jealous.

They’re in the middle of the meadow now, and the boathouse can be seen in the horizon. Clouds litter the sky, floating gently with the wind. Sunlight filters through gaps between them, bathing everything in a magical sort of glow, like a dream.

He looks at Astoria, at her big, grey eyes, her long eyelashes, and the way her hair curls against her high cheekbones. Not for the first time, he thinks, Wow, she’s pretty.

Astoria stops abruptly, turns to him, and says, “But he told me about what you did for him.”

Harry scrunches his eyebrows in confusion. “What I did?”

Astoria nods. “How you tried to help him back in the summer.” Pink dusts her cheeks, and she shakes her head. “I’m sorry, we weren’t gossiping or anything—”

Harry is quick to assure her. “Oh, no, I didn’t think that.”

Again, Astoria visibly relaxes. Harry wonders just how nervous she was before coming up to him.

“He actually didn’t want to tell me anything at first. I was the one who insisted. It helps, you see. He likes talking about you.” Here, she smiles at him, but it looks sad.

He stares at her, unsure of what to make of her words and her expression.

“It keeps him awake. I mean. Awake awake.”

“I…don’t understand what you’re getting at, Astoria.”

“Help him. Please.”

And then it clicks. Why Astoria’s sad smile looks so familiar.

He’s seen it on himself.

He blurts out, “You like Malfoy, don’t you?”