pure blood loyalist

Draco didn't sleep well that night, he didn't even put on his silk pajamas, and kept his grooming ready to be invited to the office for tea.but none--.The silence throughout the night made Draco very irritable, and the bedmate who was disturbed by him repeatedly turned to the crunching sound of the bed to express his dissatisfaction.

The next day Draco appeared in the hall with two dark circles under his eyes and a pale but not haggard face.

"You don't look well, Draco."

Pansy, who arrived at school at some unknown time, sat next to him and poured coffee for him.

Draco pressed his index finger to his temple, frowning and closing his eyes in silence.

In a patter, hundreds of owls flew in through the skylight and hovered in the sky.They charged straight at their masters, bringing letters and parcels, shaking off drops of rain on those who were eating; it must have been raining heavily outside.

Hermione, however, had to quickly remove her orange juice to make room for a soggy large owl from the barn with a soaked copy of the Daily Prophet in its beak.

"What are you ordering that for?" Ron asked grumpily, as Hermione put a carat into the owl's leather pouch. "It slanders enough, there's no point in watching it!" He said and looked to Harry for support.

"That's the best way to know what the enemy is saying," said Hermione darkly, as she unfolded the newspaper and disappeared behind it.

"The donuts you wanted." Harry put the food on Ron's plate to change the subject and watched the movement of the table on the other side through the lens.

There was clearly a commotion going on over there, a din that didn't belong to Slytherin dining etiquette.

Draco watched the owl that obviously didn't belong to him look at him, dropped a broom-shaped package and flew away.After opening, a customized version of the fire box attracted everyone's attention.

"Oh—oh my god! It's fire!" Pansy exclaimed from the side.

Draco was still in a state of bewilderment, but this couldn't take away his joy, and he had mentioned to his father many times that Potter would beat him only with hard fire, but he was always taught a lesson.But he hadn't been carried away thinking that the strict father would do such a surprise thing.Could it be a reward for completing missions on the train?

When it came to this matter, Draco's newly ignited emotions dropped a little bit.

"A fire, Malfoy, will the team have it this time?" Monta didn't know when he came behind him and stared at the broom with his eyes shining.

"I don't remember when the Malfoys became sponsors of the team." Draco said meanly with a smirk.

"Well——, I look forward to your performance this year."

"There's an unsigned letter there." Blaise pointed to the very elegant black-bottomed gold-edged envelope that fell out of the package, with a sleeping Chimera on it.

Draco's face darkened when he saw the wax seal.

"What's the matter with you? Is there something wrong with this letter?" Pansy asked worriedly. The style of this kind of letter could only belong to a pure-blood family, but she couldn't recognize which one it was.

"fine."

Draco certainly couldn't say he recognized the brute as Harry's Patronus, so he would have to explain a series of issues, including his unseemly fainting.Of course, what was even more unbelievable was that Harry gave him a fire! ?God—the scene in Diagon Alley that day came vividly, the tall boy wearing a white shirt that flooded in the sun with an evil smile and said to him that I can send you too.Yep, definitely the wicked grin.

This is simply an insult.

"Aren't you going to take a look at it?" Blaise looked at the letter with some interest.

When Draco looked up, his eyes met Harry's in the air across a few long tables. He put down his breakfast in silence, picked up his things and went out.

"Hey! Draco, where are you going?" Pansy followed and stood up

"Don't follow me."

Draco hid in an unused bathroom, closed the cubicle door and opened the letter:

Hi, draco,

Happy Zhanxin, uh—I hope so. (D: Hmph, impossible) Everything I said to Mr. Bokin is true (D: Forget about that!), maybe you can’t believe it now, but in order to show my sincerity, I hope you can accept my A gift—as an apology.I thought about buying you something else, but—er—you know, I have a bit of bad taste (D: Not a little, it's a very, self-aware potter.), so I can only give you this for the time being, After all, only the best is worthy of you. (D:...)

I sincerely hope to get your forgiveness. (D:...) You may be in a bit of trouble right now, and we all know why.I'm always - always ready to help you. (D: Self righteous savior.)

Draco hesitated for a while as he rubbed the seal with his fingers, peeled off the seal and put it in his pocket, crumpled the letter into a ball and threw it into the toilet.

Simultaneously with the pumping sound, there was a boy's sigh outside the cubicle.

Compartment brush is opened

"potter—" with dangerous eyes

Harry made a gesture of surrender, looking at the other side a little flatteringly.

"What the hell are you planning?"

"As written in the letter."

"Do you think I'm an idiot?" Draco seemed to want to throw fire on Harry's body, but he didn't know whether it was reluctance or something else or he didn't do anything.

"It's fine if you're an idiot—" The boy's voice was dangerously murmured softly.

"What did you say - Potter." He paused every word.

Hey—another inaudible sigh.

"Can I put my hand down first?" There was an emotion unfamiliar to Draco in the tone of the question, as if he was saying something intimate.

"No."

"Okay—then this one." Harry gestured to the fire with his eyes, "can you take it in?"

Draco stared at those emerald eyes for a few minutes, then raised his chin haughtily, and said two words in a contemptuous aria, "No."

No one was easily forgiven for rejecting Malfoy, and he looked forward to watching Potter's rejection look on his face.

The gaze behind the lens became sharper, and the surrendered hands suddenly stretched out like the sides of the door behind Malfoy. The boy who was already half a head taller than him completed a circle around him. A sense of oppression, even without any touch, Malfoy felt that he had been invaded by Harry's smell.

"What happened on the train—" Harry looked at those gray eyes and became terrified, "—I can keep it a secret." Then he leaned into the other's ear with a chuckle, and the blond hair even brushed his cheek. "Put it away—I want to see you fly on this year's race."

The angry person resentfully pushed the person who gave him a great sense of oppression, glared at him, turned around and left with a firearm.

He hated being at a disadvantage, so he really hated Harry Potter.