Harrystepsinlose,asloseashedares,tosptherobestogether.Hefeelsjustalittlebitguiltyathisulteriormotives.“Youhavenoidea,Malfoy.”
Finally,hestepsbak,peruseshishandiwork,andhukles.“Reddoesn’tsuityouatall.”
Draogiveshimadistastefullook.“It’sagarisholour,”hesays,walkingtowardshiswardrobemirrortolookathimself.Hesrunheshisnoseup,andthensighs.HegnesbakatHarrythroughthemirror,studieshimagainfromheadtotoe,andmurmursthoughtfully.“Greensuitsyou.Itmathesyoureyes.”
Harrygrinsathim.“See?IwouldhavebeenagreatSlytherin.”
“Youdon’tbelonghere,”Draoreplies,rollinghiseyes.“You’retoonie.Wehaveareputationtouphold.”
“Hmm,that’strue.AndSnapewouldn’thaveknownwhethertodokHousepointsfrommeorgivememore.”
HewathesDraough,letsthewarmthandhappinessofthemomentsinkin,andletsthatpropelhimintotellinganotherstory.
ThestoryofSeverusSnape.
Chapter4
Draodoesn’tknowwhenhestoppedtryingtogetPottertoleavehimalone.
Hejustrealizesthathehasonedayduringlunhwhenanunfamiliarowldropsanunsuspetingletteronhisp.It’snothisfirsttimereeivinghatemail,andsohe’snotreallysurprisedwhenheopensitandseesoneline:
LeaveHarryPotteralone.
Whatsurpriseshimishisreation,hisonvition,ashethinksstronglytohimself,No.Idon’twantto.
Helooksarosstheroom,totheGryffindortable,wherePottersits,ughingatwhateverinanejokeWeasleyhadsaid.Helookshappy,surroundedbyhisfriends,withnoweightofanyDarkLordpressingdownonhisshoulders.
AndthenPotterlooksup,atheshiseye,andthensendshimthemostdazzlingsmile,andDraothinks,withhisheartdroppingtohisstomahandhisfistrumplingthenote,No.Don’ttakethisawayfromme.
Itbeomesfrequent.Daily,even.SineomingtoHogwarts,hehadalreadyaskedtheHeadmistresstobantheHowlers,butifpeoplearesendinghimOwlsundertheguiseofi,envelopedletters,thenthatwoulddefinitelybehardertostop.
Instead,DraostopsreadingthemintheGreatHall.Hepoketsthem,likedirtyserets,andreadsthematnight,beforePotteromes.Ithurts,ofourseitdoes,andatfirst,hehadreadthemwiththegoaloffindingoutwhotheywerefrom,butintheend,herealizesthathehadbeenreadingthemlikeanatofpenitene.
Butit’sduringonenightthatheopensaletterwithahiddenStingingHex,andthepainfromtheweltonhiswristmakeshimwonder,WhyamIdoingthisagain?
Andit’swhenPotteromesin,stumblesonhimsittingonhisbedwithamessofopenedletterssatteredaroundhimandradlinghiswristthatherememberswhatPotterhadsaid:Youanaskforhelp,youknow.
Potterfrownsathimasheenters,obviouslytakingintheseneandtryingtouandwhat’shappening.HegnesathowDrao’sholdinghiswristthat’soveredbythesleeveofhisrobes.“What’swrong?”