Bride of the HP Dragon

Saturday.

Gregory Goyle has three things to say to Pansy Parkinson.

The first may seem cliché, but it's just as important as the other two.She had the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen and reminded him of the water off the coast of Easter Island in the South Pacific.

The second thing he desperately wanted to tell her was that it was a bad deal to pursue Draco Malfoy because Draco couldn't love anyone but himself.That was beyond doubt, and Pencey would be in a tough spot because of it.

The last thing he wanted to say was that he wanted to climb the tallest tower and shout that he loved her on every desk in school.

Pansy is a well-informed girl, but for some reason, she ignores Goyle's feelings for her.Even if they've known each other since childhood and been friends for so long, it doesn't help.

Making friends with a Slytherin is different than making friends with a normal person, because it's so much easier.For starters, even for unavoidable reasons and a relationship of survival, Slytherins do not engage in prolonged quarrels with other people, nor do they disagree after being like-minded.

Goyle will support his friend Draco, even if he decides to move to the South Pole, live in an igloo and raise a pack of Malamutes.If Gore is able, he is also on call to help.

But when it comes to Pansy, Goyle is on principle upset with Draco, and he can't help it.

Goyle and Pansy went into the Astrologer Tower before breakfast, because apparently she had an "extremely sensitive" message for him.Judging from past experience, it may be that Millicent told Pansy that she found a girl kissing and hugging someone in the greenhouse on a Friday evening, or that Pansy's alcoholic father in the Parkinson family recently lost his money in gambling again.

They passed Professor Flitwick on the stone spiral staircase, and he reminded them that the gate to the tower was closing in half an hour.

Pansy assured her it wouldn't take that long because she walked very fast.Professor Flitwick had given Pansy seven years of Charms lessons and knew this to be true.He waved them goodbye and resumed his patrol.

Goyle wondered what the latest gossip was, and she didn't seem eager to share, but she seemed just as eager to unburden herself.

As the wind howled past the tower, Goyle wondered whether to grab Pansy's arm.Lately she's looked so haggard that a summer breeze could blow it away, and she's been slim as a reed since sometime in sixth grade, when she lost her baby fat.

Gower didn't care if she was fat or thin, even if she had two heads and a hunchback, he still loved her madly.

"Draco fucked Hermione Granger," Pansy said with all his might, tears of rage glistening in his eyes.

Goyle folded his arms: "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure!" She yelled suddenly, and then gave him an apologetic look, but she was still irritable.

"I mean, that's not just gossip, Gregory, it's a fact. I saw them in the hospital wing this morning, and that nasty cow seemed to have been with Draco all night.

"Then what did Draco do?" Goyle had a lot of smart questions in his head, but he never had the habit of asking them. It's better to let these things unfold automatically and be confirmed silently and silently.

Pansy clenched her jaw and looked down at the woods with a sad face: "Draco held her like she was the medicine to get rid of bad days."

"I understand."

Pansy turned around suddenly: "You get it? I don't get it! I know Draco has been in a bad mood since last year, but what's the point? Sleeping with a Mudblood is one thing, but dating her is another." Something happened!"

"Are they dating?"

"Oh, trust me, they're dating." Pansy nodded.

"how do you know?"

"He never held hands with other girls, why the hell would he sleep with a woman he shouldn't like?"

"Do you think Potter knows?"

Pansy was lost in thought, and Goyle preferred to call it a "conspiracy."That's how she's always been, and it's definitely tempered her anger and heartbreak.

"No, actually I don't think he knows, funny."

"It will complicate things...." Goyle rubbed his shoe back and forth on the stone steps.

"No. Draco can be trusted." Pansy was stubborn, even if she nodded a little too much when she said this, as if it would help her clear her doubts: "He knows his loyalty where."

Goyle had doubts, too, and if what Pansy said was to be believed, it wasn't just about sleeping.If Draco cared about that girl, then relying on Draco who occasionally strayed from common sense might not be the wisest choice for any of them.

But Gower wouldn't disagree with Pansy Parkinson without facing the consequences head-on.Besides, they only had 15 minutes of privacy in the Astrologer Tower, and it was a beautiful day to spend with an angry Pansy.

So, Goyle agreed, and they had a lot of time to deal with Draco Malfoy later.

"I trust Draco, too," Goyle said, "I trust him with my life."

This is not a lie...

Diagon Alley was packed, and it wasn't the best time to arrange this important, intimate meeting with Borgin and the FidaMia experts he introduced, but, by the same token, it was.

At this time, the conference of the International Crucible Making Association is approaching, and every discerning crucible maker has found a foothold in London three months in advance.Just like the International Crucible Making Association Conference held in Diagon Alley every time in the last century, the fairies spent a lot of time in the furnace and kiln all day long, trying to earn as much money as possible in the shortest possible time for eating, drinking and having fun.

The hawkers of Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley are happily working together to jack up the prices of all roadside stalls, tourist souvenirs and takeaway food.There are usually drunk skirmishes every day of the five-day session (because there are various factional cliques within the association).

It was a perfect opportunity to mingle with the crowd, and it remains unclear if Borkin scheduled the meeting this weekend for that reason.

Wizards, witches, and hordes of various wizarding creatures attempt to get from one place to another in a sort of conga on the many byways of magical London.You have to take a deep breath, step off the sidewalk, find a gap to squeeze into the crowd, and slowly walk up and down the street.

If you've ever been caught by a pickpocket, you'd be foolish not to add a magic seal to your pocket.If you are unfortunately touched, you have the right to beat the pervert on the head or hit him in the stomach if it is convenient (usually you can use an umbrella, a handbag, and if you happen to be a member of the association, you can use a prize-a large model cauldron ).

Hermione left Hogwarts just after noon, the day after Draco and Dondice Dodds suffered a concussion incident on the Quidditch pitch.Madam Pomfrey examined a slightly dazed Draco before breakfast, and declared him unfit for anything but lying gracefully back in bed with a despised expression on his face.

Naturally, he glared at her, got up, dressed, and was out of the medical wing within 5 minutes.

Hermione was leaving the Great Hall with Harry and Ginny after breakfast when she noticed her anxious "husband" walking towards her across the hall.

The school is almost deserted since the two Oros were declared missing and most of the lower grades were taken home by their parents yesterday.There were only a few sixth and seventh graders, prefects and, by counting on one hand, junior students whose parents were abroad or Muggles.

Hermione armed herself with questions about the leak in the medical wing, but then Professor McGonagall came down the stairs, said a simple good morning to the two, and stared at Draco with piercing eyes.

"How's your head, Mr. Malfoy?"

"It's still attached around the neck, Professor." That was Draco's reply, looking much better than he did the night before in black jeans and a light gray T-shirt.

"I just met Madam Pomfrey. She is worried about your premature discharge."

"Really?" Draco said without remorse. "I didn't notice. Have you seen Dandius Dodds, Professor? How is he?"

"Last time I saw him, he was alive and well," said the Vice-Headmaster. "Based on the fact that he provoked the anger of the Slytherins led by you, perhaps his situation needs to be reassessed at the moment."

"Poor boy," murmured Hermione.

McGonagall turned her sharp gaze to the Head Girl: "And you, Miss Granger. I thank you for your decision to stay for the last two days. There are less than two dozen in the school, but I dare say their brave souls will Security is guaranteed under the leadership of their respective colleges."

"As Head Girl, that's the best thing I can do at the end of term. I think Blaise feels the same way." Hermione's tone was more sober than Draco's.

Meg smiled, patted her on the shoulder and walked forward again.

Draco didn't express his nausea until the sound of McGonagall's footsteps could no longer be heard: "It's a good thing I missed breakfast, otherwise the loyal breakfast of showing off syrup would spoil my weak stomach."

Hermione gave him a deadpan look. "I'm glad you're feeling better."

He stared at her without saying a word.Does he remember?Does not look like.Even so, she still asked cautiously, "Does your head still hurt?"

"If I remember that you came to see me last night, what do you mean by asking now?" He raised his eyebrows and asked slowly.

"Uh……"

"Not exactly," he continued. "I don't remember much after you used my insanity to get the upper hand."

She knew she couldn't handle it after being seduced: "In other words, you don't remember anything except me coming to see you?"

His thumbs were inserted into the waistband of his jeans, and his feet shook deftly: "I don't remember." He said happily.

It was so pleasant.

Hermione wasn't sure, but she didn't want to dwell on it, they had more important things.The sooner she becomes single again, the more she can help Dumbledore and the Order.

"Any news from Bojin?"

"Actually there is," he replied. "That's why I risked Neville Longbottom's horrific 'wake-up face' in the third-floor bathroom and asked him where to find you." He took out a tightly folded piece of parchment from his pocket and handed it to her.

The parchment still had his body temperature on it, Hermione quickly dismissed the thought, and opened what she thought was Borgin's reply.

Three seconds later: "Malfoy, why did I read a recipe for bran cake?"

"Oh." Impatiently, he snatched the paper from her, pulled out his wand, muttered the words, and shook the paper as if to put the letters and phrases back into place.

"Try now."

The alternation became the cryptic message Boggin sent them, and she blinked several times when she saw the exorbitant consulting fee quote from the so-called FidaMia expert, but decided not to say a word.

"We meet at Round Rock in an hour, you can get rid of Potter Kid and Weasel Weasley A bodyguard with no doubts about her virginity?"

God, he's a jerk.Hermione didn't distract from the letter: "If my virginity was spotless, I wouldn't need bodyguards, would I?"

Draco snorted, "That makes sense."

She shouldn't have looked up and gave him a shallow happy smile, and he caught her by surprise.It's not her fault, she's just a natural pleaser.

He didn't like those friendly overtures, and he looked at her with slight annoyance and suspicion: "Granger, I know the situation and feelings, but we are not going to continue."

She winks at him, long, curled eyelashes, with innocent sarcasm, her latest way to sway him, and realizes it's allowed: "We won't?"

His reflexes were quick, a quick glance to make sure no one was around before grabbing her arm and pushing roughly into the shadows of the main staircase.There's an astonishing amount of junk under the stairs: Bubblegum wrappers (translator's note: Doobleswrappers 70th Doobleswrappers insane mother Alice's candy wrappers for her children), what looks like a [-]'s Bibi Doobs Empty box, a velvet headband, and a fifth-year Muggle Studies paper signed by William Hunter Smith.

"No, we're not friends."

She ran her fingers through his straggly hair, surprised to find that she was no longer afraid of him.

Even if he was bigger than her.

"as you wish."

"When it's all over, I'll be glad I never have to see you again," he continued.

But she could almost feel his eyes fixed on her face, gazing at every detail, something he wouldn't allow himself to do when they were facing each other.Her hand was raised rebelliously as if she was conscious, but more faithful to her own heart, and gently placed on top of his hip.Just a few inches up, she could touch the tattooed skin, even under a T-shirt.

She might get carried away by the magical effects, Hermione thought, like those hypoglycemic straitjacketed romance heroines.

"I'm also very glad." She held her breath to retort, the texture of his T-shirt is wonderful, especially the warm and subtle firm touch of his waist underneath.When the time is right, she must ask him what kind of fabric softener he uses.

Did he remember last night?He's bound to be tight-lipped about what happened, but there's enough meaning in his eyes to fill a novel.

Hermione somehow regained her sanity, cowering in a small warm corner of her stomach.Even though the road ahead is difficult, she is beginning to understand him, which really makes sense.

Every time they faced such a "moment", he acted like a real villain.This is a typical psychological defense.But when she was no longer afraid of him, it was just a startling, blissful realization.

"About last night, I just wanted to see how you were doing," she explained calmly.

"I don't need you to see how I'm doing," he growled.His hands were no longer confined to her arms, his hands were squeezing, rubbing, heating, as if he was protecting her from the cold, or as if he didn't know whether to hurt her or caress her.However, the distance between them can obviously fit into a Gore.

Right now, distance is really just the final boundary.

"The problem with you, Malfoy, is that you don't know what you want," she snapped at him. "You don't know which side you're on, the choice, light or dark? We're at war now. You never You can't expect to be on both sides, so don't hate what we have left for it."

He opened his mouth, and Hermione bravely continued forward: "You need my cooperation to dismantle FidaMia, and at the same time you don't want me anywhere near you? You get angry when you can't make me obey. But when I complied, you acted like the biggest blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

They stared at each other for a fiery few seconds in silence.

"That really says something," added Hermione belatedly.

He looked like he was going to strangle her, and they might find her body later, lying in colorful bubblegum wrappers and Hunter Smith's paper "Muggles and Insurance: Fiction or Necessity?"

"You stupid, immature girl," he sneered, breathing hot and sweet on her face, "I'll tell you what I don't want. I don't necessarily want to see you at graduation party, but , hey, come on yourself, and I'm not a sage Potter rejecting a passable shaggy girl. Because if I were Potter, I'd drop my principles and have a hot gay fuck with my best friend I didn't want to see you approach me after I offended you in the prefect bathroom after I offended you. I didn't need you to ask me if I was okay after I rescued Dodds that good-for-nothing scum from the field. I don't want to Facing a grumpy woman in the morning and not wanting the sheets to smell of you just because you weren't there let me tell you the fuck out."

Hermione opened her mouth, then closed it again.She didn't think it was necessary for her to tell him that he was crazy, because there was no doubt that this little monologue had confirmed it.

"Nothing to say?" He nodded, his voice softened a bit: "Very well, I will wait for you in Diagon Alley."

Merlin knows that something strange is going on in her life, but the reality that comes with it puts everything in perspective of hardship.

She watched him walk away in the direction of the cellar, and Hermione was sure he had taken her heart.