分卷阅读37（2 / 2）

“You ever think about that?” They are walking home, even though they could apparate, because this is one of those nights where you do not want to go home, that you want to prolong for as long as you can. “Marriage?”

“About as much as I think about the rest of the future.” It’s a cop out kind of answer, and Draco knows it, so he tries again. “I can never quite picture it. The future gets all fuzzy whenever I want to form a clear image, like maybe I’m still not used to the idea that I’m going to get to have it.”

“But if you were.” Harry insists. He is shorter than Draco now, because Draco is balancing on the curb like it is a tightrope, arms spread out in the air beside him. “What would it be like?”

“Terrifying, I think.” Draco does think about it, about a house and kids but none of the details come in clear, other than the fact that he would have a broken down old shed for his potions supplies and one of his kids should be named after his father, to do right where he had done wrong like some twisted form of redemption that his own father would not try to reach for, and whenever he thinks of the person he is going to spend his life with they have started to have Harry’s face, now, so different from the life he had thought of a few years ago, where he was thinking in terms of appearance and heirs and legacy. “To trust someone that much.”

“Wouldn’t it be worth it though?” Harry’s voice is quieter than it should be, like the words were being knocked loose from somewhere in his chest. “To have someone that you love so much?”

Draco doesn’t answer. He slips and stumbles but does not fall, because Harry is there, putting his hands on his waist and pulling him down to the solid ground at the same time he is pushing him upright, helping him standing again.

“I think so.” Draco whispers, giving him an answer without saying anything at all, even though he thinks now would be a perfect time to say I love you, I need you, please run away with me. “I’m still figuring that part out.”

Chapter 29

Draco

It upsets him, that he’s still good at this.

It’s like that no matter how much you try to fight against it, some part of you grows up to be the person that your parents were. That no matter how much you want your life to be different, destiny has a way of binding you by the wrists and dragging you to your fate anyways, like it doesn’t matter what choices you make or the things you try to feel. That even when you are working desperately towards becoming something more, you look in the mirror one day and find that the future you have been planning for is already here, and it looks nothing like you wanted it to.

Like one day, you get dressed up for a party that you friend invites you to and you happen to glance up in the mirror as you are doing up your tie and realize that somehow, despite your best efforts, you have turned into your father.

Draco wants to rip off the suit as soon as he notices, because he does not want to be the type of person who knows how to keep up appearances anymore, and he does not want to be the kind of guy who looks like he is always preparing for a photoshoot. He doesn’t want to spend tonight at the ministry, either, because he will inevitably fall back into the steps of a conversation he had learned long ago, a lesson that was bought by his parents’ money, back when everyone knew their names, even if this time, he would circle the room with Harry by his side. It is still too much of the same—the same place and the same people and the same conversation he had memorized back when he was a child and Draco himself, still the same.

“You look amazing.” Harry meets his eyes in the mirror. “Truly.” He bends in to press a kiss to a spot right below his ear, a spot that he had found last night and seemed overjoyed to have discovered. They still are not talking about it, when they do things like this, like they really have convinced themselves that this means they are only friends. Or maybe they shifted from friends to something more without Draco noticing, and he was the only one confused about the labels. “Amazing.”

He hands out compliments like they don’t cost him anything. At breakfast, out shopping, when they climb into bed. Harry loves easy. Draco wishes he could say the same.

“We don’t have to go.” Harry adds, after Draco had done nothing but stare at him for a few moments, long enough for Draco to redo Harry’s tie and cufflinks, because after eighteen years of wearing nothing fancier than a sweater, he seems to have refused to learn how to put those on properly. “We could stay home. Hide.”

It was tempting, except for the fact that Hermione was giving a speech and wanted Draco there to see it, and this was on personal invitation of Percy, who he was actually fond of him, and George would be there, and Ginny said that these things were easier for George to take with Draco by his side.

(Draco’s grown very fond of George. they’re actually friends now, honest to god, the ones that sit in a pub and talk even when they don’t feel like drinking themselves to death. Draco would like to think it’s his natural charm, but more likely, George was just grateful for someone who had never known him as an attachment of Fred.)