分卷阅读39（2 / 2）

“I swear to Merlin, Draco—”

“Whatever,” he spat. He was so mad, he couldn’t even look at Potter. “Don’t be late.”

He took a step backwards and Apparated to the Manor. He was still shaking with anger when he tossed his clothes on the floor and climbed into bed, completely ignorant to the fact that it was only seven o’clock.

Who did Potter think he was? That wanker! He would pay for calling Draco a coward! Draco would prove to him he was anything but! If it was the last thing he would do!

He turned to his side, clutching his blanket and shoving one hand under the pillow. Bloody Potter!

As Draco kept repeating that over and over for hours in his mind, the prickling sensation on the back of his neck got more intense, accompanied by the fluttery feeling of his stomach doing somersaults.

Bloody Potter, he thought one last time as his eyes fluttered closed and the tiniest of smiles slowly crept its way onto his lips.

Saturday, 24 May 2003

Why? Why had Draco agreed to come here with Potter?

Apparently, it didn’t matter he had already seen Potter wearing that bloody Muggle suit when they had picked it out together; it knocked the breath out of him nonetheless every time he glanced over at him.

He hadn’t been able to say anything but gibberish since Potter had shown up, looking all handsome and spectacular, complimenting Draco on how good he looked, consequently frying his brain. His magic had gone bonkers again when Potter had touched his arm to Apparate them, to which Potter had only grinned knowingly. Draco’s mother would go ballistic when she found out he had destroyed one of her favourite vases. But Draco couldn’t care less about that right now. Right now, he was far more concerned about not making a fool out of himself while he stood there awkwardly, eyeing Potter out of the corner of his eyes. He looked uncomfortable as well, fidgeting with his tie. Little beads of sweat were forming on his forehead, glistening in the sunlight. It was an exceptionally warm day, which Potter didn’t seem to like. It probably didn’t help that the wedding was about to be held right here, in Chang’s garden, with no shade and a bunch of Muggles, which made it impossible to use magic.

“You, err, you want something to drink?” Potter asked. Draco stared at his lips as he spoke, realising too late that he wasn’t exactly being subtle about it.

“Oh, um, no.”

“Right.” Potter licked his lips and absentmindedly scratched his beard. Fuck! Was he trying to drive Draco mad?

“Do you want to—”

“Merlin’s beard! It’s Harry Potter!”

They both turned around to find an old man gaping at them. Well, at Potter.

“Mr. Potter, such an honour to finally meet you. Howard Chamberlain.” He grabbed Potter’s hand with both of his and shook it enthusiastically. Potter smiled awkwardly. “I hope I’m not overstepping, but I’ve been dying to know. There have been many tales about your victory over You-Know-Who.” He leaned closer and Draco noticed he was still clutching Potter’s hand. “Is it true you defeated him with the Elder Wand? Do you still have it?”

Draco rolled his eyes, ready to tell the wizard off. Before he got the chance, however, Potter patted the old man’s arm.