When the savior is no longer the savior

The appearance of being hit, he believed that the other party was indeed not injured, so he relaxed, and only glanced casually at Harry's arms.

He was really as thin as he remembered, and he had been picky eaters since he was a child, and there were a few brown marks on it, like old wounds... Wait, old wounds?

Snape's eyes rested on Harry's right hand.He began to frown, because he found that besides the pallor that was not often exposed to the sun, there were also various kinds of brown old wounds-yes, he had already determined that such marks were old wounds.

But what kind of old wounds go all over a child's entire arm?And look at that trace!It is definitely not something that ordinary fists can make, is it a knife, spikes, or other sharp weapons?Snape thought of something, he looked gloomily at the other hand of the child who was obviously stunned in front of him - as expected, the same old wounds were everywhere!Or should he be thankful that he didn't see the scabbed wound anyway?otherwise……

Snape immediately stopped himself from thinking about it. He looked at Harry and saw Harry staring at his arm as if he had seen a ghost. He felt strange for a moment, but he didn't think deeply about it. He just said impatiently: "Okay, Don't act stupid, it's not a big deal, since you're not injured, go back to your dorm and punish you tomorrow and I'll owl you." Having said that, Snape was still a little worried, he couldn't help frowning, and waved his wand at Harry missed a detect magic.

Harry, who was just astonished, had no time to dodge when he noticed Snape's movement, but he still dodged to the side abruptly, and at the same time shouted urgently: "Wait, wait, don't—"

After all, it was a step too late, and just as Harry's voice was tilted, the curse had already hit Harry's shoulder.

He stopped, and his gaze, like Snape's, fell on the wand that cast the spell.

The birch wand, which was as long as an arm's length, shone brightly at this moment: light gray, yellow, red—but no green.

Harry only felt his heart constrict and throb so hard that his whole body trembled a little; however, in the next moment, such intense pain melted like rain, dew and snow under the scorching sun, leaving nothing behind. trace.Then, his heart began to relax, as if he had finally unloaded the heavy burden of many years, and he was no longer disturbed.

He was momentarily taken aback.

Snape, who also saw clearly, and even more clearly than Harry, the meaning of such light, changed slightly.He abruptly removed the light from the tip of his staff, and said harshly to Harry, "Okay, get out now and go back to your bedroom!"

Harry stood still.

Snape's face was pale and gloomy, and his words contained extremely suppressed anger: "What is Mr. Ravens waiting for? His professor, the Head of Slytherin, personally at three in the morning Send him back, and detain Slytherin for a full fifty points?"

"No, I didn't mean that." This time, Harry quickly answered, "Professor, I just want to ask, what do the colors on the tip of your wand represent?"

"It doesn't mean anything. Now, you immediately—" Snape said coldly, trying to drive Harry out with anger, but Harry cut him off, and he spoke neither fast nor slow, very evenly, once A strange calming ability: "So, Professor, can you tell me how long I can live? Given..." He paused, imitating Snape's tone jokingly, "Given, these colors There is no good meaning in healing magic.”

There was a blush on Snape's face, and he looked at Harry dangerously: "Mr. Ravens, I assume you are challenging the authority of a professor. Are you trying to say that you are more powerful than the professors at Hogwarts?" ? Too bad the bombast won't get you any—"

"Professor Snape." Harry interrupted Snape rudely for the second time.Seeing the anger on Snape's face, he scratched his hair in frustration, and then chose to forgive himself - in view of what Snape had just confirmed by accident.

"Professor Snape," the blue-eyed former savior took a breath, "I didn't mean to offend you in any way, but, I think, I know my body, and this is what I didn't want Madam Pomfrey to do last time. The reason for the examination, I don't want to be any different from the others, and in fact I'm not any different... and, thanks for the wound potion, Professor."

"..." Snape's eyes became hollow and deep for a moment, "I don't understand what you're talking about, Mr. Ravens."

Harry didn't dwell on the topic: "Professor, I think as a user of my body, I have that... um, necessary, knowledge about my body." He shrugged his shoulders and pulled a smile, "Don't worry, I It's acceptable, Professor, it's not a big problem, I've always had a hunch, then—"

He stopped for a moment, shook his hands, and all the sour or bitter emotions in his heart were relieved with the overflow of his voice: "...How long can I live? Professor."

Snape didn't speak.Under the dim light, this man wrapped in a long black robe stood quietly, silent like a statue.

For some reason, another soreness rose in Harry's heart - and it was not for himself.In fact, he had been prepared for today's situation, and he knew that sooner or later he would know—from others—that he would not live long.

He will not live long.

He is destined to enter the grave and die in the prime of youth, in the prime of life.

What will the epitaph be? — 'A genius who died young'?Harry smiled silently, thinking that he had actually made a lot of money.

You see, he should have died.

But because of an unexpected opportunity, he once again authenticated happiness and touched happiness again.

——Thank you Merlin for your pity.

Harry looked at Snape, whose vacant eyes were evidence of Occlumency, and this time he was sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that the other person was emotional - if not sad, at least shocked - because of him.

But in fact... that's not really necessary.Harry was thinking, and he comforted the other party with a calm almost soft voice: "Nothing special, Professor." He said, thought for a while and guessed, "Thirty?"

Snape stared straight at Harry, who still didn't speak.

Harry realized something:

"So, 24?"

The corners of Snape's lips trembled, and for a moment, he twisted his lips and said, "Now, you give me - give me - get out!"

"I will, Professor." Harry smiled, and then he raised his eyes to look directly at Snape, "But before that, would the Professor want to know something? About all your doubts, about all my secrets... ..."

He rested for a while, and then said in a low voice: "Tonight, Professor Snape, I will answer any questions you ask."

The cold and dim potion office was silent for a full minute.

Then, Harry heard Snape's indifferent voice: "Your secret?"

Harry suddenly felt a little suffocated in his heart, he licked the corners of his lips, eager to say something, but Snape had already continued - so cold, without emotion: "Sorry, I have nothing to say about this interest."

Severus Snape ([-])

Another dull morning.

That's what I thought as the sun shone through the windows in Spinner's End, knowing that today was not the same as before.

Yes, of course, not the same - how could it be the same?Just last night, I learned that a student had slept with me five years ago, when he was six years old.

Fuck!

I stopped myself from thinking about it, and yes, like the brat said, there's nothing - nothing - to remember.

It was just a mistake five years ago.A mistake long overdue.

I told myself this, but I couldn’t convince myself—the face reflected in the mirror was gloomy and indifferent, with the corners of the lips drawn down, so that all vigor and vitality and even happiness were far away from it.

A face that was unmistakably unpleasant.

I'm thinking, but I'm not going to make any changes, it's not necessary, is it?

After eating the breakfast I made myself at Spider's End, I came to Hogwarts, and along the way, I saw more than one pair of little bastards who started to show off their pitiful spells and magic powers, waving wands and attacking each other.

It has to be said that these little ghosts with simple minds like trolls and energetic trolls have not changed at all.

What a bad mood.

This bad mood lasted until the first-year Potions class in the afternoon.If possible, I don't want to even have a face-to-face meeting with that damn kid in the near future, but unfortunately, obviously, as a professor and a student, I, and even him, have no choice.

Stepping into the classroom on time, I didn't look at the bottom. After waving the magic wand and writing on the blackboard, I started to give lectures.However, after the lecture is to supervise these first-year students making potions, and if I don't walk around, these first-year little fools... oh, let me think, they will blow up this potions classroom a few times or Blow yourself into pieces?

What an idiot!What a waste of potions!

I cursed secretly in my heart, glanced across the classroom, and rushed forward to clean up the crucible of a student—a student who was able to produce a potion unstable enough to explode just after ignition.

The fat kid next to the cauldron looked like he was about to cry.

I recognized him, Neville Longbottom, "The Crucible Killer" - I lazily told him that if possible, I would sincerely advise him to stay away from potions, for his own safety.

Tears welled up in Longbottom's eyes.

I turned around and continued patrolling, and behind me came the Gryffindors whispering comfort to Longbottom and cursing me through gritted teeth.

I didn't care, just randomly picked some Gryffindors who didn't like it, and deducted some points - well, the voice disappeared.

I continued my patrol, went to the corner of the classroom, and saw the kid.

This is the most remote corner of the classroom, covered by the pillars, not only separated from the surroundings, even standing on the podium may not be able to notice it.

As luck would have it, he looked winky.

But in such a remote position, would he continue to be rejected by Slytherin?

... Or, he doesn't really want to see me either?

I stood where I was, and didn't go any further—it wasn't necessary, his steps were regulated and his movements were perfect, even better than Draco I had taught him.

He doesn't need any attention.

I turn and leave.

However, the facts quickly proved me wrong.

Yes, he's smart enough that no one needs to worry about his studies - but when it comes to making friends and taking care of himself, he's a complete mess!I can't believe it—I never imagined—that he would put up with being treated like that—that Il Potter.

A Potter!

I'm already convinced that I can't like him at all, even if he's Lily's kid.

I don't see half of Lily in him.

Slytherin's attitude towards him has always been very subtle. Draco complained in front of me more than once that he is "obviously capable, even if he likes Gryffindor, there is no need to pester that Potter who hates him but is not as good as him".

Slytherin advocates pure blood, but will not reject those who are truly capable.

I suggested that Draco reach out to the kid - out of some complicated compensatory mentality.

Yes, compensation.

- Back then, it was my fault.

Draco looked surprised and displeased.

I didn't say anything more, but a few days later in the afternoon, I heard about what happened in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class-apparently, Draco was preempted by someone, he was too proud, getting the first place was not the end, And that's just the beginning.

But for these, what choice will the child make?

I thought, walking through the castle and finding first-year Gryffindors and Slytherins taking flying lessons - a dangerous and pointless sport!

I snorted in disgust, and glanced out the window - I couldn't believe what I saw!

Draco grabbed his broom and fell straight down from the sky - at least five stories high!Everyone was stunned, including Huo Qi at the bottom, and the child suddenly came out of the crowd, grabbed Draco as soon as he stretched out his hand, and was brought down quickly by the other party.

Then I saw that the child who was falling so fast even let go of his other hand holding the broom, took out his wand without a moment's notice, and cast several beautiful levitating spells on Draco——

Amazing - yet even more infuriating!

I wanted to yell at the two men who made it down safely, I wanted to pry their heads off and ask them how they dared - how could they - do that!They'll break their own necks!

But Draco is fine, that child... that child, I can't face it.

Hooch advised me to take both kids to the medical wing, and of course.

But what did I see?Not only did the kid secretly fix his dislocated arm on the way, but he also blatantly lied to Pomfrey in the hospital wing—he thought no one would see his torn robe sleeve, no one would smell it Is there still the smell of blood left on him before?

Yes, before.

Pomfrey has been tricked, and I think I would have been, too, if I hadn't brought them here before.

But out of caution, she looked at me, and I chose to remain silent—this child was injured and didn't want to be checked, probably because of some secret that should not be known.

An excellent child full of secrets.

Is he really only 11 years old?

I'm doubting again, but Hogwarts magic can't go wrong - he's really only 11.

That body is really only 11 years old.

At dinner time, the child was not at the table.I'm not sure if he's looking for something to heal wounds based on his ability... But the easiest way to heal wounds is the potion I have besides Pomfrey's healing magic.

After finishing dinner slowly in the big restaurant, I stayed outside for a while before returning to the Potion Office—I’m not sure what I thought when I found out that the potion or potion ingredients were missing, but I’m sure, I Wouldn't want to meet that kid at all, especially when he might be sneaking into my office.

However, no.

The child didn't come over, and all the items and materials were the same as before I left, without any change.

Feeling relieved, I hesitated a bit and wrote a note for the evening confinement at the Potions Office to owl the child.

According to the child's potion level, as long as there is a detailed formula, it should be no problem to brew the wound potion by yourself.

Even if that is fourth grade content.

Then I left a simple note, stood up, hugged a pile of parchment, and left the office again-just to make up, only this time!

I thought angrily when a tall pile of parchment fell in all directions against the door frame.

Back at the office at 10:30 pm, I thought it was over - but it was the opposite!

Four bottles of potions were neatly placed on my table, and that seemingly clever kid let him go for nothing after I created such a condition for him—damn it, he worked hard for me all night with injuries !

Should I commend him for his honesty—or respect for a professor?

Shit!idiot!

Disgruntled and angry, I had to do something I hated in class the next day - give potions the best set of rewards, a potion of trauma.

With some malice—yes, I confess, malice—I didn't use the regular wound potion that kid made last night, but recreated a quick (ten seconds) one with no side effects , but a potion that hurts enough to roll in bed—even though it cost me an extra two hours.

Let's hope he doesn't drop what's in his mouth this time.

——If he doesn't get it again, I swear, I'll never bother with this brainless bastard again!

Thanks to Merlin's favor, luckily everything went well.

That kid was with Draco - Draco had clearly gained that kid's friendship, well, he'd find it worth it.

The potion handed in by these two people is flawless, of course "O", I am a little happy, but I don't want to let that one seem to think that I won't give him a high score-well, I really haven't given him a high score so far Points, although he did well every time - the child found out, so he made a displeased expression.

Draco was a little dazed, and looked at the potion handed in a few more times, as if looking for a flaw that didn't exist.

Oh, of course I have no obligation to explain to him - but I believe he will understand the ultimate ownership of the bottle of reward potion in my hand.

He's a spoiled kid, but at least he has some brains.

Unlike Potter.

Draco and Potter probably had a natural conflict.

10 minutes after I left - well, I admit that I didn't leave directly out of some concern, but stood in the corner and watched Draco hand the potion to the kid before preparing to leave.

But after staying for a while longer, I obviously saw something not so remarkable.

——The spell stops.

The surprises—the shocks—in that child were endless.

I'm [-] percent sure that he has many -- many, many -- secrets.

Although he is really messed up in interpersonal communication to the point where he is worse than an 11-year-old kid... huh?Why do I say 'better than an 11 year old'?

In fact, he really is only 11 years old.

...Damn it, I'm getting more and more suspicious of that fact!

Coming out of the corner, for the first time since that night, I actually stood in front of the kid and sneered.

In fact I've kind of forgotten how to speak softly, except to Lily.

And this kid... doesn't seem to take my sarcasm to heart like other little devils.Therefore, it is more natural for me to maintain the habit and use it to cover up some emotions in my heart.

Yes, of course.

...Severus, you're an asshole.

This time, including the last flight lesson, it was actually not the responsibility of the child in front of him—if it was other professors, they would reward them, right?However, for me, there are still only ridicule and punishment.

Just for the little bit of embarrassment before.

No no, in fact during the last flight lesson, I wasn't vengeful - I was doing it for his own good!Even if he could and did get Draco to safety, he couldn't be so careless about his own safety.

That's right, that's it, I care about him!

... Am I caring about him?

Fuck, he's only 11... wait, I never meant that! —Forget it, I'll just be my jerk.

Wait, what is Dumbledore talking about?Is he out of his mind?He actually entrusted Draco and Potter's punishment to that child?

What made him think that kid could do it well?

What made him——make him turn a blind eye to the helplessness and pain of that child?

Dumbledore then explained to me that he did it because he didn't feel right.

Yeah, yeah, because he didn't feel right, so he hurt the kid and tried to get to his secrets - it was disgusting.

My tone was obviously bad.

But what did Dumbledore say?

He looks at me the same way he looks at you.

Close, trusting, defenseless.

I scoffed at Dumbledore's words.

However, I knew from the bottom of my heart that Dumbledore was right. This white wizard who likes sweets has a pair of intelligent eyes that can see through people's hearts.

I can't lie to myself.

Harry Ravens, he was close to me, he trusted me, he was defenseless against me.

Even after I did something so unforgivable.

Before curfew at night, Draco came to me out of the blue and told me about Potter.

See you at the Whomping Willow in the Forbidden Forest at one o'clock in the middle of the night?

Aha, that kid from the Potter family really inherited all the shortcomings of the old Potter - what on earth made him confident that he could safely enter and leave the Forbidden Forest - a place that even seventh graders dare not go to?

Maybe I should talk to Lily about how her baby is doing.

Although I suspect it's useless, as Potter never changed for her back then.

And Lily...Lily, finally chose Potter.

When I was going out in the middle of the night, I was delayed by something impromptu, and by the time I got to the Whomping Willow, Potter was standing there stupidly - well, he actually dared to come here, I swear I would A full hundred points off Gryffindor!

But what is he talking about?

Harry - that kid came too?Also angered the acromantula because of saving him?

idiot!

I couldn't help but snarled at him—and then dragged Potter, who was not only unwilling to leave, but also wanted to go deep into the Forbidden Forest to help the child, out of the Forbidden Forest.

Ridiculous, why should he go in again?He didn't even have the strength of his father back then, he was simply beyond his control!

I sent Potter all the way back to the castle, and I warned him not to try to go back to the Forbidden Forest, so as not to hinder my rescue, and told him that if it wasn't for him, I might have brought Harry out by now.

This remark seemed to convince him. He was full of worry and resentment, but he finally calmed down.

I hurried back to the Whomping Willow, trying to locate the kid by looking for signs of battle.

However, it was disappointing that there were no obvious signs of battle around - under such circumstances, finding someone in the Forbidden Forest was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

I had to suppress my anxiety and wait in the distance.

In the dark night, in the unique silence of the deep forest at night, I began to lose control of my thoughts.

If that child did not escape safely, if that child encountered another dangerous creature, if that child got lost, if that child was injured, if that child...

that kid...

Suddenly there was a slight rustling sound in front of him.

It was the sound of blades of grass being trampled.

I raised my wand and pointed forward, and let the child come out with a firm tone.

Only Merlin knows how nervous I am at this moment.

Thank you Merlin for your support!

Although I don't know how he got rid of the acromantula, thankfully he was not injured... Wait, where did those terrible old scars criss-crossing his body come from?

This is the reason why he refused to be checked by Pomfrey?

He has been living under violence! ?

The child stood in front of me blankly, with a very strange expression, panicked and frightened.

It was the first time I saw him showing such an expression, which didn't suit him at all.

I'm not sure what he's thinking, but I can guess that he won't want me to show mercy--in fact, it's impossible for me to show such an expression.

He doesn't need pity, just like me back then.

……Do not.

He did a better job than I did back then.

Much better.

I hid my anger in an impatient tone, and I was worried after all, and threw a few routine detection magic at the child.

...but what have I got?

There was never a moment when I questioned my eyes so much—as I questioned my ears when I heard Lily agree to go out with Potter.

That kid is good and strong enough.

When I was still shocked by the answer I came up with, and even began to question the eyes and wand that had been with me all the time, the child had recovered and asked me about his physical condition.

I didn't answer.

How can I possibly answer?

The child did not give up and continued to question.He told me he knew his body; he told me it wasn't a big deal—it wasn't a big deal.

So what is the 'big deal' for him?

His current body is so bad that he can't even live to be thirty!

I run Occlumency and don't want him to see any emotion in me.

However, no emotion may be an emotion. The child noticed it sensitively. He lowered his voice and seemed to want to comfort me.

Aha, comfort me?

Do I look like I need his reassurance?Or is it me who needs comfort?

I have always known that fate is so unfair.

I never thought that fate could be so unfair.

Suddenly, I heard the child's voice.

He told me that if I wanted to know, he would tell me all his secrets.

The child looked at me eagerly, and the emerald green eyes were as clear and calm as lake water, which was incomparably beautiful.

As Dumbledore said, as I saw myself.

This kid trusts me.

This child is close to me.

I almost said yes.

just almost.

What I finally said was a cold rejection.

Because of the sudden cowardice in my heart.

At that moment, the green pupils in front of me were dimmed with disappointment.

two minds

It's the weekend before Halloween.

Harry, who had been tossing around in Snape's office until four in the morning yesterday, was soundly asleep in bed.However, soon, a rhythmic knock on the door broke the silence that belonged to the cellar.

Harry in the silver and green curtain was woken up. He struggled to break free from his exhaustion, lifted the quilt and staggered to open the door: "Who...Draco? Why are you so early?" he said , yawned big, reached out to rub his face, but couldn't get rid of his tired face.

Standing outside the door, Draco looked at Harry tangled up, and said, "Actually, it's already eleven o'clock, Harry."

"Oh..." Harry muttered in annoyance and pain, and stepped out of the way, "Come in first, Draco... wait, wait."

As he spoke, he pulled out the magic wand that he carried with him even when he slept, and waved it at the furniture in the dormitory.

Then, Draco was surprised to find that under the effect of the superb transfiguration technique, the originally simple and shabby dormitory took on a new look in less than a minute: windows were opened on the walls that were originally closed, and the wooden window frames were translucent. The glass, outside is the endless blue sky, the warm light shines in from the outside, spreading a golden floor, just like the Gryffindor tower with the best view; the original ordinary wooden wardrobe is carved with patterns, The color changed to milky white; the chair of the same material with half a leg missing also had more patterns, and an armrest was added, and the desk next to the chair became a matching small round table, covered with a snow-white tablecloth, and there even appeared on the tablecloth. White porcelain cup with black tea.

Aside from the window, the Transfiguration wasn't too great - for Harry's level - but it was quick and comfortable.

At least Draco felt that the room in front of him was already pleasing to the eye.

"It looks pretty good." Draco praised with the usual arrogance of nobles.

"As long as you like it." Harry who said this was in a daze, his head was biting, as if he was about to fall down.

"...Do you want to wash your face first?" Draco looked at Harry and suggested tactfully.

Harry staggered away.

Draco sat on Harry's conjured sofa, and he carefully didn't touch the cup of black tea, even though it looked quite tempting.

It took about 1 minute or 2 minutes, and Harry, who walked to the washroom and stuffed his whole head under the faucet, finally woke up in the clear water.

He let out a breath, shook his head, and after getting water droplets everywhere, he came out of the bathroom door with a wet head, and said to Draco outside: "Draco? Wait Wait, I'll be quick!"

Before Draco, who was sitting outside, had time to speak, the black-haired curly head retracted again, he shrugged his shoulders, and said in a drawn-out voice: "Oh—you can take your time, Harry. Malfoy Don't mind wasting some time for real friends."

Harry, who was washing himself, suddenly laughed, but unfortunately, this smile disappeared after Harry saw the mark on his arm under the rolled-up sleeve in the oval mirror in front of him.

The faucet was turned on, but the water was still dripping.

Harry lowered his eyes, leaning on the edge of the pool with one hand, and hesitantly reached out to touch his arm with the other.

No pain, no other feeling, just like painting.

But yesterday, just before yesterday, he didn't find any traces on himself at all.And such brown marks—brown old wounds—looked like the reappearance of all kinds of injuries he suffered in his previous life...

Harry's face was a little ugly.

He wasn't sure what was the reason for his current situation, maybe it was time?After all, he paid the price for his health...

Or, is it because he has too much contact with Yi...?

But this does not meet the conditions of the original signing, that "unknown" never said that they cannot contact them... So, is it because of health?

But it appeared without warning, it was like some kind of silent warning...

Harry didn't want to think about it any further. He clicked his tongue irritably, wiped off the drops of water on his hands, and then put down his sleeves, tightly covering these things that should not and need not be discovered, and then took a towel , walked out while wiping his face, and saw Draco looking at him angrily as soon as he came out of the bathroom door: "Huh? Did I say something funny?"

"Actually," a smile appeared on Harry's face again, "it's nothing funny, I just remembered when we first met."

Harry was talking about the last life, but Draco naturally thought of the chief challenge not long ago, and then thought of Harry being a half-blood or a pure-blood, he suddenly felt guilty, and said somewhat unnaturally: "That time— —I'm sorry. But you messed up my chief challenge, and I've been looking forward to that for a long time."

It turned out to be like this.When Harry recalled the beginning, it suddenly dawned on him, he nodded: "I didn't mean to."

"Actually, it's Emery." Draco snorted, not continuing the topic, he turned his head to look at Harry, just about to say something, but was stunned for a moment after seeing Harry's appearance clearly.

"What?" Harry noticed Draco's abnormality.

"Your complexion is not very good." Draco chose a milder description - in fact, he thinks Harry's complexion is very bad: let alone the pale complexion and the bruises under the eyes, it can be said that he stayed up late last night The result; but what about the chapped lips and the vague tiredness and bewilderment in the expression that cannot be concealed even when talking and laughing?

Did he have another conflict with Potter yesterday...?

Draco's face was gloomy, he never thought that one day he would hate someone so much - a Potter!

"Huh?" Harry touched his cheek in doubt, and then yawned a little, "Didn't you get enough sleep yesterday...?"

"Because you went to the Forbidden Forest?" Draco asked casually.

"Yeah," Harry admitted readily, not surprised, "you saw that?"

Delacomer gone.In his mind, even if Harry wasn't angry about yesterday's privately telling Professor Snape that Potter was going to the Forbidden Forest, he would at least cover up the fact that he had secretly gone to the Forbidden Forest afterwards.

But looking at it now, why did it seem that Harry was prepared and accepted everything?

"Aren't you angry?" Draco hesitated.

"Why are you angry?" Harry was stunned for a moment, then realized, and moaned, "Oh, Draco, although Il is..." He was vague, "But you are also my friend. Besides, I I've known for a long time that according to your personality, you will definitely tell Professor Snape, and this matter itself is very unsafe, and you are not wrong. Except that you don't feel sorry for Potter." He joked.

"Excuse me Potter?" Platinum Xiaolong snorted proudly, "I can't wait to duel with him."

Harry laughed.

"However," Draco picked up the white porcelain cup on the table