Bride of the HP Dragon

Draco stood in the hall, deftly hiding behind a grandfather clock.The floor was cold and he was barefoot until the big clock ended and he listened carefully for the sound from the library.

Even though the night was deep and his parents were still up, it was clear that another argument had occurred.This was nothing new to Draco, but the subject of the argument made him want to delve further.If he was caught slipping out of bed he knew he would be in trouble, but he decided to risk his father's rage for George's sake.

He was going to risk it for George.

Until he heard his mother mention his name, his curiosity was strongly piqued.He was awake anyway, and too excited to go back to sleep.Finding George more than anything else.Poor Tory and her little master were running around the estate to find the dog.

But there was no sign of it anywhere, whether Draco used the best cuts the chef had to offer, or how he called the dog until his throat hoarse.

"I wouldn't keep it," said his father, speaking in a low, snarky voice that showed he was not just annoyed but angry.It's not wise to be around Lucius when his voice is soft.Normal people would be too scared to leave in a hurry, but his mother was not "normal".

Draco dived into the hallway, past old family portraits, some of whom were winking sinisterly at him.He wanted to smile back but it wasn't a happy adventure, George was lost and his parents were taking their anger out on each other.

He hoped the two things were not connected.

The double doors of the library were wide open, and the light from the candles cut through the darkness and directly illuminated a small area of ​​the corridor outside the door.It didn't seem surprising that Draco wasn't afraid of the dark.The magic was bright, and he could take it anywhere, just as his mother had told him, so there was no reason to be afraid.

Draco peeked around the door, smoothing his bangs carefully, lest his parents see a mess of bright blonde hair through the crack of the door.Realizing that his toes might also be seen, he quickly curled up and retracted them.

His mother was pacing the room, still wearing the sheer silky scarlet gown she had worn to the Parkinson Manor gala.She had put him to sleep six hours earlier, and Draco recalled how she smelled of gardenias in the evening.His mother always smelled so sweet.

"You're mean," Narcissa said.

Draco had never heard his mother speak to her husband in that tone before, and he suddenly worried about her more than George, which was enough worry for a five-year-old.

Lucius snarled and knocked over a chair, which flipped over with a muffled bang on the carpeted floor, and Draco covered his mouth to hide his surprise.Fortunately, his parents were in the midst of a heated argument and were not heard.

"Pampering won't help, Draco needs to learn tough lessons, he's old enough!"

His mother's ice-blue eyes narrowed: "He's had enough time to learn how to live with the good fortune he was born with."

"Five years is enough for him to learn not to live under the same sky as those mixed-race bastards."

"Bastard," his mother scolded.

For a moment, Lucius didn't seem to take the insult to heart, but Draco wasn't convinced.No one ever called his father a "bastard" for being alive - a very, very dirty word you wouldn't use unless you wanted to be dragged into a duel.But then his father calmly put down the brandy glass he had been holding, walked up to Narcissa and slapped her across the face.

It was the first time Draco had seen Lucius lay hands on Narcissa, and what was even more worrying was the fact that his mother responded with a smile.It was a knowing smile that wasn't surprised by Lucius' actions, she looked as if she had won the argument or uncovered some previously hidden truth.

Something in Draco became cold and dead after seeing this.He realized that games played by adults were very different from games played by children.

It's not something he wants to see.

Unaware that he was exposed (his feet stretched out unconsciously), he found himself standing at the entrance of the library, in the light, hands clenched into fists at his sides, tears streaming down his cheeks .His father had his back to him, luckily only Narcissa saw him.She blinked in surprise, then shook her head subtly to warn Draco clearly.

Relieved, but ashamed of the relief, Draco slipped back into the shadows, shaking with fear and uncontrollable rage.

"Remember who you're talking to," Lucius told his wife, and though his anger seemed to have calmed down, he sighed and raised his hand to stroke her face. "Remember," he repeated, sounding Apologetic and something else that Draco didn't know how to describe.

Lucius said something again, the soft words Draco couldn't understand and wasn't sure he wanted to understand.

He suddenly felt like an intruder, invading a very private moment.

His mother wasn't bothered by his father's change in behavior, or because she knew her son was watching, she pushed her husband away.

"I do not love you."

Lucius smiled, but didn't. "You love me, and you hate yourself for it."

She forced a smile. "Severus hates me for that, too."

"Don't mention that traitor's name in this house!"

Narcissa retrieved the velvet embroidered shawl hanging on the sofa: "He will not be like you, you know, I will see it with my own eyes."

Lucius threw the wine glass into the fireplace, and the flames burst into flames, but he didn't answer.

Narcissa walked to the door and closed it quietly.

"And you! What are you doing out of bed?" she asked, grabbing Draco's arm as she walked forward.Her long, wonderfully blond hair, which had been pulled into an elegant bun before, had fallen loose, and curls scratched Draco's face.

"I... I'm looking for George," Draco explained.

They stopped briefly, and the mother wrapped her shawl around her son: "Draco, really, you're going to catch a cold," she reprimanded.

They didn't stop until Draco returned to his room.His mother put him to bed, and Toli slid out of the chair in his sleep, still snoring, and Narcissa rolled her eyes at the old elf.

"I'm sorry you've seen it all, your father isn't in the best mood tonight, darling." She smoothed his hair, Draco's was a brighter color than hers and not too frizzy.

Draco's tutors used to tell him he had a great gift for solving puzzles, a strong logical mind, they said so.Probably that's why he asked this question.

"Mother," Draco began, wishing he was as stupid as Pansy said, "Did Dad do something to George?"

Narcissa's blue eyes hardened, and she seemed to be making up her mind.Then she reached into a hidden pocket of her robe and pulled out a black leather collar.

"I regret that."

Nothing could be done, and George was apparently dead.Draco felt a heavy stone weigh on his heart, swayed down, and sank into an ancient bottomless well in Thimble Creek.

He picked up the collar with trembling little hands, but he didn't cry, not even when his mother pressed a goodnight kiss on his forehead before saying goodnight.

"You give back as much as you are loved, Draco," she whispered. "Never be like your father."

Don't be like you either, Draco wanted to say, but didn't speak.It took him a while to finally fall asleep, still wrapped in Narcissa's shawl and smelling of gardenias.

The next day Tory helped him bury the collar in the garden.

He is not dead.

Hermione knew this because all she had to do was close her eyes and search for where he was.He was there, somewhere in the back of her mind, still breathing, still alive, his heart beating steady and strong.He didn't seem to feel anything, not pain, not irritability, not that ethereal feeling she had in his mind.

Therefore, Hermione speculated that Draco was simply unconscious.

Ron was clearly stunned by the profusion of blood from the wound on Draco's forehead.

The two wounded Slytherins are being looked after by a desperately anxious Mrs Hooch and Professor Flitwick, while Ron goes to Acting Vice-Headmaster McGonagall, who turns back once Ron recovers from his near-heart attack scare Go find Snape.

Harry was with Snape at the time, and he could never recall seeing the Potions Master so furious.

"Except for that time when you peeked at his Pensieve. (Note: Harry saw the scene of the young Snape being insulted by the hijacker...)" Ron reminded, intending to distract himself from nothing. Arguable, hilarious overreactions pulled back.

For Ron, Draco had been attacked, and he and Harry had both suffered head and chest injuries from Bludgers.The wound wasn't fatal by any means, but it would be bruised, swollen and, in Draco's case, a concussion.

Upon hearing of the accident, the rest of the students (the gossip of Pansy Parkinson and Ernie Macmillan played a prominent role) were divided between sympathy and schadenfreude.Some praise the bravery of the young tadpoles, who are sure that the tadpoles' names will appear in the Hogwarts Almanac under the heading "Silliest Deeds".

With the exception of the Weasley twins, no student has been able to avoid tragedy after unreasonably ignoring school rules.

Hermione felt the rest of the day passed unbearably slowly, and she was still in a bad mood over her encounter with Draco in the prefects' bathroom, and finally came to two conclusions.These two conclusions were so indeterminate, indigestible, almost impossible, that she didn't like to think about them at all.

So she didn't think about it, this is an excellent example of emotional escape.

As bad as what had happened between them on Wednesday, she could no longer deny that she had feelings for Malfoy.

The problem is that it doesn't feel soft, doesn't make her daydream, sigh or draw a little heart between the H and the D.

The truth is when she looks at him, she doesn't feel good.It wasn't necessarily a bad feeling, but the kind that made her forget herself.Her reluctant husband had a dangerous influence on her, whether he realized it or not.

And unfortunately, it's not all FidaMia's fault.

Hermione found it repulsive to think these things when one of their camp, Tonks, might be dying.

It wasn't unusual to find Harry occupying a corner of the sofa in the common room the following evening.Sometimes he sat and talked to Ginny, who didn't snooze like other Gryffindors.The rest of the time he played chess with Ron or cards with Neville.

This evening, he was looking at the materials, and he looked up at Hermione who had stopped: "Hi."

"Hi," Hermione said, sitting next to him on the sofa, and she saw that he was wearing socks that didn't match up, and one exposed toe was welcoming him: "You can't sleep either?"

Harry yawned: "It seems that this is a common problem among students recently. I was reviewing Snape's Occlumency notes. When Snape was called to the infirmary this morning, we were planning to discuss the results. "

"Let me see? 98 points! Harry, you are so smart."

"Yes, I think so too."

She found his interest lacking, and Tonks' disappearance occupied their attention.Dumbledore's absence from school made them uneasy and wary.Bad things always happen when he leaves.

There's a ridiculous theory that Tonks just eloped with Donald Bly, but no one who knew Tonks (or Bly) would be relieved by that.The Order of the Phoenix was supposed to meet on Monday, but it has now been postponed.

Harry was on pins and needles wondering what Moody would do with the missing Oro, and the common room was silently flipping through Snape's highly vetted and meticulous notes.

"Would you like something?" Harry asked suddenly.

"Yes, actually," Hermione wasn't sure how to say it, so she simply asked, "Harry, can I borrow your Invisibility Cloak?"

"You don't want to go find Tonks yourself, do you?"

She glanced at him: "Of course not."

"Because, as you told me before, it is extremely foolish to act rashly without consulting Dumbledore or anyone else."

"Yes."

"You're going to make us all worry about you..."

"Harry, yes, I understand."

He nodded: "I'm just making sure with you."

Hermione watched suspiciously as Harry stood up, stretched, and told her to wait.He then went upstairs to his room and returned a minute later with the cloak.

"I'm not going to ask you why you need it," he said, "but I'm sure if you need me, you'll tell me."

Her boys were all grown up, Hermione realized, and tears welled up in her eyes.

No more worries, Harry patted her on the shoulder: "He's a lucky boy, no matter who he is."

Her head jerked up: "Why do you think that?"

Harry shrugged, but with a mischievous smile on his face: "It seems that you only break the school rules for the boys you care about."

Before this, she really never thought it would be like this.

The author has something to say:

The next chapter is bloody, the savior This chapter is very pleasing, the invisibility cloak is the matchmaker

Neverloveanythingmorethanitlovesyou, this sentence is always translated unsatisfactorily...

So Narcissa is the same wife?But a scum like Lucius actually doesn't love anyone but himself.He must have said to Narcissa: Don't defy me, because you love me...

The copywriting is accompanied by a song. Xiaolong is the son of Lucius, with external arrogance and pure-blood belief; he is also the son of Narcissa, who has inherited the stubbornness and humbleness in the face of love.

Idon't wanna wait another minute

to hear

something that I already know

But knowwhat

you don't love me

so I can't love you

But I can't help loving you

For Xiaolong, for Narcissa, and for the professor, in fact, the first time I heard this song, I thought it was suitable for the professor...