“Now I don’t have to confess my lies by omission,” Malfoy said. “This works out brilliantly for me. Do you know how truly honed and perfected Hermione Granger’s disappointed face is? Extreme guilt after thirty seconds, guaranteed.”
Harry turned back around so he could glower at him. “What — what are you playing at? You buy me a coat, you fix my shitty trainers, you hold my hand…” Harry’s eyes stung. His heart hurt so badly. “What are you fucking me about for?”
“He doesn’t call me Harry now,” Potter said.
“Call him something else. A code name. John, or —”
“Archibald,” Draco said.
Potter snorted. “Archibald?”
“It suits you.”
“Harry,” Black said. His mouth twisted. “I don’t suppose anyone would have told you — I’m your godfather. Your dad was my best friend. I… I was meant to look after you.”
“And you’ve clearly done a bang-up job,” Harry said cruelly.
Malfoy’s hand grazed Harry’s waist tentatively, barely enough for Harry to feel through his clothes. If they both leaned forward… If they both moved just an inch closer…
“He killed all those Muggles, remember? He’s a murderer! He escaped from Azkaban!”
“It’s true,” Sirius Black said darkly. “The boy isn’t lying. I am a murderer.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Sirius,” Lupin sighed.
“It’s like magic,” said Hermione. She glanced at Ginny, who had never known magic as anything other than oxygen in the air she breathed. “Wonderful, but actually rather tricky when you get down to it.”
Neville — well, Neville still didn’t know that Harry and Draco were sleeping together, and one of these days he was in for a rude and rather explicit awakening.
Harry turned back around so he could glower at him. “What — what are you playing at? You buy me a coat, you fix my shitty trainers, you hold my hand…” Harry’s eyes stung. His heart hurt so badly. “What are you fucking me about for?”
Draco would never understand Harry Potter. He was a strange, beautiful feral little monster and Draco did not know why he had all these stupid feelings about how he tangled his hands up in his jumper.
Ginny squinted at her. “You’re doing that thing where you leapfrog about eight steps and assume I’m following. I am not following. I am about twelve feet behind you.”