Harry Potter: Reunion with the Enemy

"Comb-your hair." Draco stopped Harry, who was about to leave, in a very unskilled Parseltongue voice. The latter's stubborn black hair was standing up unruly.

Harry replied in fluent Parseltongue, and then admired Draco's expression of deep thought with satisfaction.

"Hmm? Do you understand?" Harry asked.

Draco was obviously still translating the Parseltongue very, very slowly in his head.

At this time, the California king snake that was lying on the sofa and watching the two of them swam over lazily, and then gently hit the Pharaoh's comb on the table with its tail - the one given by Lancelot.

"I'm asking you to help me get the comb, but it's okay. You've learned quickly." Harry switched to English and lowered his head obediently, letting Draco play with his hair. "At least some simple daily actions can be expressed clearly."

"Snake language has too many syllables, and it's still hard to remember." Draco carefully dealt with each of Harry's sticking hairs, "and I'm so sleepy now."

"Where did you go last night?" Harry asked quickly, remembering something. "I felt you get up next to me. But because I was so sleepy, I was only conscious for a few seconds before I fell asleep again."

Draco grinned: "I was going to imitate you and disappear, but I couldn't bear to leave halfway, so I came back."

Harry ignored his clumsy lies and simply poked Draco gently, saying in a long Parseltongue tone: "You - lied - to me."

"I only deceive women's hearts." Draco gave up using Parseltongue to express this sentence. "Now that we have become boyfriends, should you also upgrade the way you address me? You can't call me Malfoy anymore, Pott."

Harry checked his new hairdo in the mirror, balancing himself precariously in Draco's embrace from behind.

"Well - Master Draco." Harry seemed to want to tease Draco deliberately.

"No, change another one." Draco leaned close to Harry's ear and his hot breath touched his cheek.

"Brother." Harry began to grin.

"Don't be like that." Draco could be seen curling his lips in the mirror.

Harry suppressed his laughter and pretended to think seriously: "Hmm - let me think - Brother Ferret."

Draco's face began to flush, "I'm getting angry, how come you still remember, oh my god."

"The ferret is cute. Little dragon? Dedian?" Harry pinched his chin.

"Oh--"

"My destined arrogant husband." Harry laughed so hard that he couldn't breathe.

Draco grabbed the person in his arms who was trying to escape: "Say it again - remove the adjective in front."

"I don't - I'm going to be late for the auction - I have to leave soon." Harry counted his fingers in vain.

"Let me hear that again - this is much more important than the auction!"

"I don't--" Harry broke away.

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Draco went to Lancelot last night and asked for a whole bag of Muggle cash. In addition, Lancelot generously provided an American Express Black Card. "It's more convenient to use a card. Cash is too cumbersome. Just remember to return it to me in wizard currency."

"It's a deal." Draco shivered in the cold wind in the early morning. "I saw the starting prices of the auction items - they are numbers that even I have to think about carefully. How did Professor Eugene have so much money?"

"Of course it's not an ordinary professor's salary." Lancelot shrugged. "Since you are a member of the Lakeside Club, you have close connections with officials and business people. You can fit into the small circle, so you must have your own value."

"Professors and scholars from famous universities may indeed have a certain influence." Draco nodded.

"Recommendation ability, personal connections, research projects, and business cooperation are all far higher than a professor's basic salary. He can also use his position to resell some cultural relics, but of course these are illegal operations." Lancelot said. "Not to mention that the students he recruits can also provide some resources."

Draco sighed softly in the night, "I always have a feeling."

"What does it feel like?" Lancelot was looking seriously into Draco's eyes under the street light.

"If we continue to get closer to the Lakeside Club, we will soon have no way out." Draco paused for a moment, "I might be able to terminate this project now and tell Harry directly that this is the project I asked the Ministry of Magic for before, but, but, it is about to become a real, serious, top-secret mission."

"Well. Or it already is." Lancelot was staring at a moth, which flew onto the light bulb of a street lamp and was quickly burned by the hot glass, emitting a wisp of light smoke, and then fell to the side of the dirty road.

Draco was silent for a moment.

"I don't think you will quit. Although you were born like those royal family members and children of dignitaries, and are luckier than others, you certainly have the motivation to cherish this kind of luck that you are born with." Lancelot slowly stated his conclusion.

"Why?" Draco found himself looking forward to Lancelot's answer.

"Bill Weasley and I also gossiped about your past before." Lancelot narrowed his eyes, as if thinking, "I have to say, the you I met is very different from the one he remembered - I think you have walked out of the shell of the family that has sheltered Master Malfoy for many years."

"The little Malfoy he described to me was just a little bastard who was too well protected." Lancelot said with a hint of sarcasm. "But that's not what I saw."

"Maybe - I don't hate this process." Draco said hesitantly, "Although I really don't have any sense of control."

"Harry has spent many years in fear. I think you can understand him better now." Lancelot comforted Draco. "Goblins are not really powerful opponents compared to Voldemort. They are smart in some things and ridiculously stupid in others. Of course, the goblin rebellion in the textbooks is very bloody and has been tested over and over again."

"Then there is no way out." Draco glanced at the moth's corpse and said softly.

The early morning sun had already risen quietly in another corner of the city. Several people carrying backpacks but clearly not looking like homeless people or pickpockets were walking out of Brick Alley one after another. It seemed that these buyers had also left contentedly.

"All the way to victory." Lancelot gave a thumbs up and yawned loudly.

"Or go to hell." Draco waved goodbye to him, speaking in a voice that only he could hear.