Harry Potter: Reunion with the Enemy

Harry rarely felt overwhelmed.

When faced with dark wizards and emergencies, he can always react quickly and act decisively.

But at this moment, he was sitting in this bar on the corner, surrounded by couples. In the ambiguous lights and the gentle singing of the resident singer, he really felt that he was in a situation that he was at a loss.

Especially Draco, who was sitting opposite him and was a little confused because of the reaction of the silver sword. He was looking at him expectantly.

Harry glanced at the wrinkles on Draco's clothes caused by pressing him on the road just now, and rubbed his hands awkwardly.

"I think I'd better not drink. I'll have to drag you home when you get drunk. After all, we can't both get drunk on the street." Harry suggested rationally, "I'll fulfill my guardian responsibilities tonight."

"My legal guardian's last name is Malfoy. Would you like to change it to Malfoy first?" Draco flipped through the wine list with interest, then turned back to the waiter and said, "A couple's wine package plus a glass of The Wizard of Oz, thank you."

Harry: "..."

"I am no longer the first-year Draco who can tell the difference between the savior's hypocritical refusal." Draco pulled Harry's tie, causing him to lean forward involuntarily. "From women's skirts to renting a house and other things, you have listened to me obediently, haven't you?"

Harry felt his face flush and raised his eyebrows in resistance, as if he was considering whether to argue with the person affected.

Seeing Harry frowning slightly, Draco's tone softened again: "Just take a sip - if you don't try, how can you know that Muggle cocktails must be worse than gray butterbeer? You came here with me."

Harry forced himself to look at Draco, his grey eyes reflected his own flustered self. Harry noticed that the corners of Draco's eyes were a little red. Could it be that he had just been immersed in his imagination of "Harry Will Never Come Back" and was crying secretly?

Harry gritted his teeth, "Okay," then stood up from his seat and sat on the same side as Draco.

For a few minutes, Harry suddenly understood why Lucius and Narcissa always obeyed Draco. People who know how to act like a spoiled child have the best life. Harry could even imagine him pestering his father to buy the Nimbus 2001 and clamoring to expel the Hippogriff, and even how he curled his lips in anger.

At this moment, he can't even resist the adult version of Draco's coquetry, so it can be imagined that the young version will be even more lethal. He will probably be even cuter at that time.

Although it was cute now, Harry felt himself softening a little.

The waiter brought three glasses of wine and lit white shell-shaped handmade candles. A faint scent of incense gradually permeated the air. The waiter saw Harry sitting upright and Draco leaning against him, and showed an understanding expression.

The "good-looking wine" that Draco mentioned did have a unique appearance.

The bottom of the Wizard of Oz is emerald green. "Mix orange juice and blue curaçao - that's the color of your eyes. This glass belongs to me." Draco shook the Wizard of Oz glass. "You can pick one of the remaining two."

Couple wine package - the red cup is covered with a layer of cotton-like material like a bird's nest, and the blue cup is covered with crystal clear crushed ice, which looks like a diamond integrated with the cup under the refraction of the light golden candlelight.

"Hmm - this one." Harry took the blue cup.

"Its name is Brave Heart, but this cup contains 96-degree water of life. Are you sure you can handle it?" Draco looked at Harry hesitantly. He ordered this cup purely because of its beautiful appearance.

Harry had no idea about the alcohol content of the wine. He took a few sips and felt like magma was flowing into his body like a river. His tongue quickly became numb. "Cough cough," Harry seemed to be choked and his face turned redder.

"It tastes okay, but it seems a little - strong." Harry waited for the burning sensation in his throat to subside.

"This one is also special. Maybe we don't need to bother calling for a lighter." Draco looked at another glass of red wine. He quietly took out his wand and conjured a small flame at the tip of the wand. The cotton-like material wrapped around the cup began to burst into sparks of fire the moment it came into contact with the flame. The cup body seemed to have a meteor shower pouring down. When the outer shell burned out and fell off, only the pure cup body was left.

"So what's the theme of this set menu? Ice and fire?" Harry took a few more sips of the wine in his hand.

"You can only touch the true heart by breaking the shell. If it is ice, wait for it to melt. If it is fire -" Draco looked at Harry suspiciously as he drank the strong liquor without any precautions, "Wait a minute -"

At some point, there was only half a cup of glowing blue liquid left in Harry's hand.

"Are you drinking it like pumpkin juice?" Draco snatched Harry's glass. "This is probably over seventy degrees, Potter!"

Harry's face began to flush, and his thoughts began to become slow, as if there were layers of invisible heavy substances piled up in his brain, and the invisible resistance in the air made his every move slow down.

Draco seemed to be able to feel Harry's veins absorbing the alcohol at a rapid rate.

"Perhaps it's understandable - the Forsyths - like to get drunk," Harry stammered. "I've gotten lighter."

He even took a sip from each of the two remaining glasses of wine on the table.

It was already late at night, and Draco felt that the mental oppression brought by the silver sword was gradually fading, replaced by helplessness. "Potter, are you allergic to romance?" Draco turned his head and asked Harry, who was already half-fallen.

Who will drag whom home today?

Harry seemed to become stupid and answered the questions subconsciously.

"Romance - allergy, failure - it seems - mistletoe - Qiu Zhang cried at that time."

Now it was Draco's turn to grit his teeth as he watched Harry's consciousness gradually slip away, trying hard not to drag him back home and do something that violated Wizarding Law so that he would learn whose name should come out of his mouth.

"Ginny - cried too - there are always more important things - I don't know if I will die - and in the future - I won't have a home -"

Draco was angry enough to speak calmly: "Do you still like them?"

Harry shook his head vigorously, "It's over - delayed - regret - I shouldn't have"

"It's not your fault," Draco interrupted. "What do you like about them?"

"Quidditch - cute -" Harry lowered his head.

Draco turned Harry's head towards him, pursed his trembling lips and asked, "What about me?"

There was a little more tenderness in Harry's dazed eyes: "Of course - of course" Harry seemed to want to raise his hand, but he had no strength left.

"What kind of home do you want? I'll take you to find it." Draco stroked his hot cheek.

"Just stay with me--" After the emerald eyes disappeared behind the closed eyelids, Harry's breathing began to become long.

Draco sniffed and felt his eyes getting hot. He might have just taken a sip or two from the glass of The Wizard of Oz on the table.

Draco took off Harry's glasses and gently kissed his eyes, wetting his long eyelashes with the tip of his tongue.

He thought to himself that if the savior denied today's memory one day because of blackout, he would use Legilimency to steal this memory and publish it on the front page of the Daily Prophet for a month.