分卷阅读16（2 / 2）

It was as though an erumpent had suddenly been let loose in Draco’s head, stomping on every brain cell that had survived Potter’s ridiculous revelation.

“Alright, I think I’d better get going now,” Potter said, already rising from his seat. “Can I use your floo?”

Draco nodded, numbly. He led the way to the parlour and wordlessly gestured to the fireplace.

“Right.” Potter paused. “I’ll pick you up at seven, okay?”

Draco nodded again. It was ridiculous, really, that Potter had the ability to render him speechless like that. He watched Potter as he took a pinch of floo powder and stepped into the fireplace.

“See you then,” he said. And right before he vanished, he smiled.

How Potter had managed to turn ‘Drinks, just you and me’ into ‘Dinner, just you and me’, without Draco noticing, was a real mystery. He had said something along the lines of, “Would you mind if we get something to eat first? I’m really hungry.”

Clearly, Potter had planned this all along, since he seemed to have made reservations at the Muggle restaurant he had hauled Draco to. The only question was: Why? He didn’t seem particularly hungry now, pushing his steak from left to right on his plate, instead of eating it.

“Is it not good?” Draco asked. He watched carefully as Potter bit his lip. He almost looked like a child, who had been asked to eat all their vegetables. His mouth was in a tight line while he slowly cut into the steak. The bite he took was so tiny, Draco wondered why he bothered chewing. Drinking in his strained expression, Draco decided not to comment on it and turned his attention to his own meal instead. Still, Potter’s behaviour was…odd. He had barely said a word since they had entered the restaurant.

They continued eating in silence and when the waiter came to clear the table, Draco noticed that Potter had barely eaten half of his meal.

“So, where are we going for drinks?” Draco asked as they stepped out of the restaurant.

“Actually…” Potter hesitated, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. “I’m—I’m not feeling so good.”

“Oh.”

“Would you mind if we go another time?”

Draco kept his features impassive, even though disappointment bubbled up inside him. “Of course.”

“Thanks,” Potter muttered and turned on his heels. “I’ll owl you!”

Draco looked after him, flabbergasted. What the fuck had just happened? It had been Potter’s idea to go out! So why did Draco feel like he had just been dumped? Had Potter changed his mind about being friends? Had Draco done something? And since when was he questioning himself like a thirteen-year-old? Ugh, Potter could go fuck himself. This was just another reason why Draco should have stayed away from him.

Friday, 10 January 2003

Draco, I’m sorry about the other night.