分卷阅读26（2 / 2）

It was a load of bullshit.

Draco wasn’t helping because he wasn’t capable, he wasn’t helping because they all still saw him as a liability, even Harry. They can’t expect him to turn on his past loyalties, even though he’s tried to explain to them all that there had been no loyalty about it. Just a scared little kid who was in way over his head.

“I just don’t feel comfortable putting you in that situation.” Harry says, looking like he is trying to avoid the situation blowing up in both of their faces. And really, Draco knows he doesn’t have any right to be angry, because this is just one of those disappointments that came from finding himself on the wrong side. His choices (or lack of them) were going to haunt him for the rest of his life. “What if it’s someone you know?”

Draco wants to protest, but he hears the rest of it. What are you going to do when you come face to face with someone that you used to be friends with as a child, or had a wand pointed at you by a family friend? Are you really going to kill them? Are you really going to bring them in? You aren’t ready to do whatever’s necessary to win, but they are. And so are we.

So he didn’t argue after his original offer was shot down, even if his good bye tonight was a little colder than normal, just a press of his fingers into Harry’s wrist before he walks out the door for good, something that he hoped Harry was able to take as an apology and a warning at the same time, a silent plea for him to come back home to him.

Still, that doesn’t mean he isn’t angry, or that he’s fine just sitting on the steps and watching the hallway for Harry to come back home like he had the past three times Harry went to some meeting (meeting, bull shit, you don’t come back from meetings and return covered in blood) or sat to stake out a house. He didn’t know where he was going or how long he would be there, if it was dangerous or just routine, if he was alone or the rest of the order was at his back. Draco was just so damn tired of being kept out of the loop.

“Give me a nightingale.” Draco slides into the bar, keeping his collar thrown up around his face. He had been intending to go to the Leaky Cauldron like every other sad wizard does, but ducked into this muggle bar at the last instant, picking a drink off the menu at random. “Make it quick.”

“So demanding.” The voice, recognizable in a place where Draco thought he would be able to avoid people he knew, made Draco jump. Behind him, George is grinning, and he leans around Draco to whisper his own order to the bartender, who smiles at him before asking if she should make him more than one, or if he was going to take it slow tonight.

“Just one, darling.” George clamps his hand down on Draco’s shoulder, and even though Draco is almost entirely sure it is meant to be friendly, it still feels like a threat. Like he has no choice but to stay here. “I’ve got to let my friend here catch up.”

The word friend shocks Draco, but he tries not to show it. The situation definitely feels grumpy now.

“What are you doing here?”

George snorts into his drink, drains it in one go, and then takes Draco’s when the girl puts it down in front of him. “Oh come. You didn’t want that.” George grins, and with the dim lighting, you almost can’t tell that anything was missing, like he had shown up perfectly whole. “It was terrible.”

“Didn’t stop you from drinking it.” Draco was grumpy. He had come here to be alone and surly, and here was George, walking over like they were best friends and had every right to sit here, pestering him, and drinking Draco’s drinks.

“I’m used to it. This is my usual place.” He wasn’t lying. All the muggles here seemed to know him, from the waiter with the flashy jacket to the bartender, and even a pack of grouchy looking old men by the front door. “You, however, don’t belong here.”

Draco knew he didn’t. Everyone else was in jeans and worn down t-shirts, and Draco had shown up like he was going to a five star restaurant. He couldn’t look more like a man who had just stumbled in here on a whim, desperate to run from something.

“I’m trying something out.” Draco ordered himself another drink, and took it before George could get his hands on it. “It was working, before you came here.”

“Drowning your worries in booze until Harry dear comes back home?” George waves his hand for another, and this time, the girl just leaves the bottle. It seems to suit him better. “Trust me, it won’t work. Nothing will take the edge off the wondering.”

“How do you know about that?” Draco was pissed, now, because it felt like George knew something he shouldn’t, and he was also feeling like he was poking fun about Draco’s feelings for Harry. That would start a whole new round of problems, if everyone and their mother knew that he was in love with the world’s savior.

“Harry swung by the shop today. Told me all about it. Offered to take me into the fold, if I was up for it.” George dug his nails into a chip in the wood. “Told him he could bugger off. No way was I going to get into that again.”