Bride of the HP Dragon

Snape nearly wrenched his stupid godson's golden head off his shoulders.For one frantic, frightening moment, he thought it was Lucius walking peacefully toward him.

The gait was exactly the same, and the hair was the same silver in the morning light, but Draco was not as tall as his father, and his steps were obviously too light.There are also small details, Lucius is not going to be caught wearing a T-shirt and a pair of old sneakers.

"I'm back, I see," Snape reached into his robes and took out a silver timepiece: "Mr. Malfoy, you were probably five hours late. Your outing yesterday was allowed until 11pm, I believe You haven't forgotten how to read the clock?" Snape's casual reprimand did not in the least scare Draco, or Hermione's Head, Professor McGonagall.

Three applications to the Wizarding World of London were granted yesterday morning, and only Blaise Zabini returned to Hogwarts before curfew.McGonagall could only roll her eyes at Draco for ignoring the curfew, but it was unusual for the Head Girl to be so careless.

Draco was not a humorous person, no matter how much his mother tried to drive the importance of politeness into his head: "I just got back from the second Dark Mark sighting in Knockturn Alley," he scribbled .

Snape looked worried, but not overly concerned.He snapped the timer shut and put it back in his pocket: "We just found out, because Professor Lupine will be coming to change shifts with me, and I'll talk to you and Miss Granger before you go to bed."

In the nearly twenty years of Draco's life, there had been no damage, just verbal reprimands, no threatening glares, no threat of confinement.

Nothing, where Draco didn't pay attention, there was still a flat gentleness in Snape's tone.

This is mostly shocking.

Draco's jaw almost dropped when Snape mentioned Hermione almost casually: "You know about us?"

"Yes, I know," Snape was a little annoyed, "It took me a lot of effort to convince Minova McGonagall not to let the owl deliver letters to Miss Granger's parents, so as to find out why she was late. Gui's whereabouts. Also, where is that girl? Are you sure you brought her back?"

Draco found the question insulting: "Of course I brought her back, in the bushes." At this point, he said it as though Hermione was meant to be there.

Snape glanced contemptuously at the bushes from a distance, where there was a distinct rustling, and he called out, "Miss Granger."

Hermione came out from under a bush, embarrassed and sharply worried: "Good morning, Professor."

"No, not good," he snapped back: "You two, wait in my room, go now."

"This is my first time here," Hermione whispered to Draco, standing in front of a huge bookshelf with extraordinary titles that made her hands itch to touch. .

"Considering that this is Professor Snape's private room, I should be so relaxed." Draco muttered to himself.

Hermione looked back at him. He was sitting in an armchair by the fireplace, legs crossed, fingers tapping on the leather armrest, looking as if at home.Hermione could easily imagine him sitting in that armchair lecturing like Snape, and then giving her that look you're going to say now.

It was odd enough to be in Slytherin, let alone her undisputed centrality now.

Student leaders could go anywhere, of course, but there was really no need for Hermione to visit the Slytherin common room or anything, as Blaise naturally assumed most of the duties of his own house.Harry was rightfully in Snape's room because he was going to be learning Occlumency, but he never gave much detail, other than to complain about said classes.

Snape's living space was poor, but comfortably furnished.There were three rooms, and the door leading to the Slytherin corridor opened into the living room and office.Adjacent rooms on either side of the central area had a door on each side, possibly leading to the bedroom and Snape's private laboratory.

Hermione thought the place was totally masculine and scholarly, as she'd guessed.

The mahogany bookshelves are embedded in the stone walls on both sides, and they are so full of books that they are almost overwhelming.The rest of the furniture is also made of mahogany, except for the beautiful claw-legged sandalwood and mother-of-pearl desk, which looks relatively messy.It really doesn't match the rest of the furniture, but its layout and care show that its owner takes it seriously.

Hermione sat down in a green satin armchair, facing Draco, and yawned.They easily forget how sleep-deprived they have been this past week.

"So how on earth did Snape know we hit FidaMia?"

Draco shrugged, and he was annoyed by it too: "How does he know most things? He just does, but I'll figure it out."

Hermione noticed that he was a little thinner, with his palm resting on his forehead.He was as pale as baby cream, but at this moment he was still a little gray.Considering she's seen all over his skin lately, she thinks she has authority over the differences.

"Malfoy, are you alright?"

He pressed the bridge of his nose: "My headache is killing me." While admitting, he made a provocative expression under his fingers: "All I want to do is vent."

Hermione wouldn't allow him to give her such a serious look, only Malfoy could keep talking to himself after Oro's kidnapping and the Dark Mark appeared on his head, and he was safe and sound.

"Oh, you stop. Your godfather could open that door any moment."

"Oh yes, your suddenly enlightened expression," he mused. "I think at least half of the students can get the clues."

"I don't know much about you in clothes," she said stiffly.

Draco laughed, laying back in his chair and looking at her tenderly, probably because he was tired or lacking the energy to be false, but his gaze was genuinely warm: "Don't put it so harshly..."

There were footsteps approaching, and Hermione stared at the door: "Someone is coming."

"Fear makes people dull." He raised his eyebrows.

The door opened silently, someone at Hogwarts made no noise, and then Snape strode into the room, barely looking at them: "Sit down."

They were already seated, and Draco sneered, "So we're already seated."

"You have very low taste, Mr. Malfoy."

"sorry."

"Professor, is there any news about Andromeda Tonks and the other missing Oro?" She regretted that she didn't speak first.

"Miss Granger, even if there is, I don't think you are qualified to hear the news." The answer was cold.

Hermione frowned immediately, this was nonsense, she was a member of the Order of the Phoenix just like him.

Oh, but not Draco.Snape took that fact to heart, even if she didn't.Hermione suddenly realized that she still had reservations about Draco (someone was looking at her strangely now).She rubbed her nose and turned her attention back to Snape.

"It's not going well, is it?" Draco said to his Head, and Hermione then remembered that they were talking about his cousin, and the feeling of regret escalated again.

Snape's answer to his godson was noticeably more polite: "When two members of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement disappeared on the school grounds, the headmaster was dealing with private matters. Now he is assisting Alastor Moody in his investigation. "

"Dumbledore doesn't know about us, right?" Hermione felt that Dumbledore's consequences were as bad as Harry and Ron's.

"He doesn't know," Snape confirmed, looking at Draco, "Your father contacted me after you and Miss Granger returned from Malfoy Manor." He explained.

Draco was taken aback. "You're talking to him via the Floo? He's a luxury."

"It's a luxury for him, not for me." Hermione felt that Snape's answer was slightly entertaining, but maybe this was her illusion.

"Who else knows?" Draco asked, frowning, which was Hermione's next question.

Snape replied without hesitation: "Professor Lupine. You must know that his senses are much more sensitive than ordinary people. He noticed the spell on the two of you in class last Wednesday."

The idea that Lupine could literally "smell them out" is worrying: "Is anyone else able to smell like that?"

"I'm skeptical, Miss Granger."

"It was a stupid mistake, sir," said Hermione, "trust me. It wouldn't normally be the case."

Snape's hand snapped. "I neither need nor want to force myself to hear an explanation. That's not why I'm talking to you. Your records and continued disregard for the rules attest to the fact that, It's that you guys think you're mature enough to take your own life, and Merlin knows you're stupid. My only concern is that you often choose to ignore school gate hours, and that your recent trip to London coincided with a murderer."

Draco swears by it, but Snape takes it for granted.

"When the Dark Mark appeared in Knockturn Alley, you mean someone was killed?"

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy," said Snape with great patience, "unless you can think of something else for a murderer to do?"

"who is it?"

"The identity of the victim is not yet known, did you see the FidaMia specialist and it worked out?" The change of subject was quick and sudden.

Snape didn't have to wait for an answer, the scowl on Draco's face and Hermione's obvious similarity were enough to say it all.

"I see, what a pity," Snape sighed, folded his arms and sighed again: "And... there are other things I need to tell you."

They wait.

Draco had nothing to say, he'd never seen his godfather hesitating, and he turned to look at Hermione, noticing that she was staring at Snape as well, as if the man had just announced his favorite color was Pink.

"Draco," Snape began, "it's about your mother."

The atmosphere became heavy and cold, and Draco's heart sank.

"What's up with her?"

"It was on the front page of the Daily Prophet yesterday, but I guess you haven't had a chance to see it? No, no, of course you haven't."

"Sir?" Snape didn't continue, Draco urged.

"Draco, I am truly sorry that I have to tell you this, and I cannot be more sorry."

"Tell me what happened?" Draco demanded.

"Your mother is dead," said Snape, stating the facts without any emotion: "She died three months ago. It was initially found to be a suicide, but since then there has been a lengthy investigation, and the Details have not been released."

"Not announced" was an understatement, and Hermione covered her mouth.The blow was huge, and the sudden tension in her chest took her breath away.She could feel Draco dazed by the sudden news, followed by a strange, cold emptiness.Something bad had happened to him, and now she could feel dark emotions welling up from him.

She couldn't speak because of the pain from the anger and the blow, and for a moment, her eyes were filled with black dizzy chaos that almost caused physical pain.

He didn't move or speak, just stared at the rug by the hearth.She wanted to go to him and hold his hand, but she couldn't stand up because of the discomfort at the moment.

Snape frowned: "Draco, did you hear what I said?"

"Yes, what do you want me to say? She went away without saying a word, and now she's gone forever, and I can't see the difference."

"There's a difference!"

"How did she die?" Hermione asked softly.

Snape looked at her with deep black eyes: "Overdose."

"Did you tell my father?" Draco interrupted suddenly.

Snape paled. "Draco, your father knows. He knew it months ago, but he couldn't tell you."

Hermione felt disgusted: "Has Lucius Malfoy reached a new level of shamelessness?"

Draco looked up, with a hopeful expression flashing across his face: "But every month my Gringotts account still has money remitted to it...it should be from Mom... Narcissa. How is this possible? "

Snape hesitated for a moment: "I wired the money. I'm afraid I already knew it too. Our plan is to tell you when the time is right."

"The timing is right when the Daily Prophet is flooded with news of her death!" Hermione sneered, as if she were speaking for Draco.Merlin knew that at this moment she could clearly feel his anger, but was suppressed by other emotions: "Now you feel that your only choice is to tell him before he finds out for himself, before the worst happens!"

Draco stood up, although trembling: "Your plan?" He spat: "You and Lucius? You know you both know my mother is dead, but you don't tell me!" He His voice was choked up: "I've been writing to this woman for three months, and I always thought she just wouldn't reply."

"It's my responsibility," was all Snape could or would have said about the accusation: "It was an error of judgment on my part that I didn't tell you sooner. But you must listen to me now. You are in danger now." , both of you, be very careful. Investigations show that Narcissa did not die by suicide as we thought, she was murdered. Draco, I can only speculate at this stage. I believe the Death Eaters are Wants to make an example of your family. We really think the best thing for you is not to tell you."

"Murder?" Draco's voice was hoarse, his eyes narrowed into slits. "My mother was murdered?" His shocked expression turned into agonized horror, and then nothing remained.

He shook his head and swallowed his throat: "Yes... I'm sorry, Professor." Draco said in a cold voice, "But anyway, I don't think this school, or the Ministry of Magic, or my father, anyone is really there I don't think about it. I'm going after answers, sure answers, but they won't be answered by you. So if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."

He took a step, nearly tripped, and offered Hermione his hand.His eyes were starkly pleading, hoping that she would save him from his knees, and Hermione rushed over.

Snape frowned deeply, he stood up: "Miss Granger, I believe you need my help."

This kind of discrimination made Hermione want to throw things, and all her years of thinking about Snape's insidiousness and ruthlessness had condensed into a cold expression at this moment.She held Draco's thin waist tightly with both hands, and the two walked towards the door together.

"Thanks, Professor, but I can handle it."

In his face, she slammed the door shut.

Snape just stood there, staring at the closed door for a long time.He looked down at his hands suddenly, and sighed when he realized they were shaking.

His hands clenched into fists and finally stopped shaking.

In the end, he wasn't any better than Lucius.There were so many chances, so many missed opportunities, that he could have sat that boy down and told him, but he didn't.

All responsibilities and obligations are his, and he has always enjoyed it.

Draco.

Watching the boy grow into a man was painful and gratifying, and Snape wasn't a good choice for godfather.He was an old, hard-hearted, bitter ex-Death Eater; an ex-spy with a list of enemies as long as his arm.But Lucius is not a qualified father, and it is a pity that the child cannot be guided in the family where he was born.

But these must be endured.

He cared so much about this boy, but when it came time to prove it, he ended badly.He has failed twice.The first time, he'd just stood by and watched the Ministry send Draco on ridiculously futile espionage missions.Then, he could obviously prepare for Narcissa's death.But the old love for Lucius made him unable to express it.

He needed the girl to catch Draco, and Granger did, and if the atmosphere wasn't so sad, he would have applauded her calmness.

Snape remembered what Draco had said in Dumbledore's office, the afternoon the first Dark Mark had appeared in Hogsmeade, that Draco was right, the Ministry of Magic doesn't reward heroes, it just uses them.

This is a worthless world that bets all the chips of freedom on the shoulders of an 11-year-old kid. This is what Harry Potter means to the wizarding world.Dumbledore was as guilty of this as the average wizard in the street, still condemning and complaining when the slightest doubts of the populace were not met.

Draco was well aware of the hypocrisy, there were more gray areas than black and white.The young Snape knew it too, but instead of going the other way as expected, as Draco did in the end, Snape chose to do the opposite.He took sides, and that past mistake still affects everything he does today.

He wants to do something right for Draco, he has to do it, even if it breaks the balance of this world.He'd have a long talk with Albus and Arthur Weasley, they might be able to manipulate Harry Potter, but his godson wasn't going to be manipulated.

Turns out Snape was right, Draco was in bad shape, and Hermione had to seek help.

Draco stopped suddenly and slid down the wall, his breath coming short and short.He reached out his hand to cover his forehead, which was covered with sweat.

Afraid he would be out of breath, Hermione grabbed his hands and wrapped them around her shoulders, letting him use herself for support.He didn't say a word when they left Snape's office, and Draco held her for a while, his face buried in her hair.

Eventually, his breathing slowed down, as did hers.

"It will be fine," she gritted her teeth to keep her lips from trembling. "You will be fine too." No matter how insignificant Narcissa may be to others, she is Draco's mother and must love their children.

Hermione endured hallucinatory pain from Draco's grief, and found that grief, even if she didn't experience it herself, was as sharp as a knife.

"Everything I touched was reduced to ashes," he whispered against her hair, the pain in his voice painful. "Everything that mattered. This life is wasted, and my family is cursed. "

She shook her head violently, stepped back and looked at him: "That's not true, Draco."

His expression was dark, tired, and defeated, and it frightened her.He twisted a strand of curly hair behind her ear, with a very solemn expression.If he had the strength, Hermione was sure he'd grab her by the shoulders and shake.

"Hermione, I can't go on, I can't keep you. Snape was right, what we're doing is dangerous. The conversation in Dumbledore's office was about a mission, you know? Ministry of Magic Asked me to report to the other Slytherins, and they wanted me to do it in the summer, God knows how long."

spy!That's what they wanted him to do, no doubt the Ministry had hung a giant ax over Draco's head and pretended it was a carrot.

"They can't do this to you! Especially not at this time!"

"They also asked a lot of Potter." His expression remained unchanged: "The Death Eaters are recruiting new recruits. If I'm not mistaken, someone wants to send me a message." He clasped his fingers with her, his face The expression made her want to cry: "I can't keep an eye on you, especially in the summer. You'll stay at the Weasleys, won't you? Just stay there, you'll be safe."

"I don't want to listen," she insisted vehemently. "What they're asking you to do is illegal! You can't say yes. They have your father's life in their hands, but not yours."

"I signed an agreement, it's reasonable and legal." Draco leaned against the wall and closed his eyes: "Granger, I...I really think I have to lie down, my head hurts." He Her tone was full of Chen Ken, which made Hermione immediately worried.

Malfoy was not one to show weakness, he looked blue.How could she forget that two days ago, he was still in bed with a concussion?

"Where's your room?" It's a pity she didn't know where he slept, it was a small personal detail she should have known.He didn't answer, just licked his lips, looking ill, and she touched his pale cheek.

"Here it is," answered a gentle voice, "I'll show you."

It was Pansy, standing there in the dark, in white satin pajamas and matching cotton slippers, holding a lighted wand.

"So Snape told him?" Before Hermione could answer, Pansy nodded, "Goyle and I saw it in the newspaper yesterday evening."

Hermione was really glad to see her, Slytherin house is a strange place, she is not used to groping in the dark corridors: "He's not doing well," she wiped her nose with the back of her hand: "I think we should Go to Madam Pomfrey."

If Draco passed out now, the two of them couldn't move him without a Levitation Charm, and Hermione knew Draco would hate it if she went to Snape for help.

So Parkinson's had to be called for help.

Pansy shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "I'll help, we don't need a nurse." She stepped up and took his arm, slowly pulling him away from the wall, and he reacted as if they were removing a bag of tiles. The tablet hit him on the head, and he flinched.Hermione was anxious to run to Madam Pomfrey when Draco spoke.

"Pansy," he yelled, "my mother is dead." The depth of feeling and the intimacy of the words made Hermione sting with jealousy, but she quickly put it behind her, and she was overwhelmed by her own selfish thoughts. scared.

"I understand, dear."

"I was lied to, Pansy."

"I understand, please be quiet, we will take you back to bed."

If the atmosphere was not too sad, the scene would have been embarrassing.He asked them to prop themselves up on their shoulders, but luckily the two girls were the same height.His room was at the end of the corridor, or what seemed to be the end of the corridor, where Hermione and Draco had passed by before.

She knew that Pansy could easily see the way in the dark, and she was grateful that Pansy kept the fluorescent light on for her.

The door to Draco's room was locked, and Pansy managed to open it through a series of Arahorhole openings, passphrases, and turning the old-fashioned doorknob.

"He has persecution paranoia." Pansy understood Hermione's expression.

Upon entering the room, the candlesticks on the walls light up automatically.Apart from being smaller, the room was just like Hermione's, and the ceiling was too low.His bed was not by the window, but facing the door, apparently because there was no need for a window in the cellar.The trunk is against the wall on the left, next to the desk.

The room was astonishingly spotless.There was a brand new broomstick maintenance kit on the table, and a considerable number of Quidditch-related items hung from brass hooks on the wall.

They reached the bed within a few steps, and Draco collapsed on the bed.He covered his eyes with his hands, turned around, and remained motionless.The light seemed to bother him, and Hermione blew out the candle and bent down to take off his shoes.

Pansy watched her do this until Hermione tried to find the pajamas in the trunk, but Pansy stopped her.

"Don't worry," said the Slytherin girl, "he'll either go to bed undressed, or he'll be naked."

Hermione didn't know how to react, so she didn't say a word.There was a chair by the desk, and Hermione walked towards it, but Pansy blocked her way.

"You can't stay here, Granger. We can't, we never do."

Hermione guessed that by "we" Pansy meant Slytherin: "Damn me I can't."

Pansy shook her head, but her face was sincere and nothing else: "I'm serious. You don't know that something has been wandering around, you can't stay here, and if any of us stay here tonight, he will be angry."

Hermione sniffed loudly. She had had enough of stubborn Slytherins, but deep down she knew that Pansy was right and that she wasn't holding a grudge against herself.

It's the tacit consensus of Slater Lin that they don't cry in public, don't date Hufflepuffs, things like that.

"I don't mean to embarrass you, but it's certainly something he would like to see. I'll see him again before breakfast, and he's still yours."

Feeling numb, Hermione brushed the hair from Draco's forehead, not caring that Pansy was watching.It's good that he fell asleep, because Hermione didn't know what else to help him except sleep, and she felt useless: "I'll come to you tomorrow morning." She told him, her voice almost choked up at the end: "I ensure."

After her long talk with Harry.

After making some firm decisions.

"Come on, I'll take you out," Pansy said softly.

Hermione tried to take her eyes off her sleeping husband, and followed Pansy out of the room.The two remained silent as the door clicked shut behind them.

"Granger, you and I can't run into each other like this again," Pansy commented dryly, which was a tasteful joke considering the circumstances.

They walked quickly down the corridor and into the Slytherin common room again.Pansy pushed the door open, and Hermione stared out into the dark passage below for a moment.

Her throat gradually became sore, which was the result of trying to suppress the tears.Pansy, by contrast, was unflappable.Hermione knew that Pansy had almost cried earlier, but the girl didn't even have a red nose.

"How long have you liked him?" Hermione asked.

"Since ten years old," Pansy said without embarrassment at all, "Granger, don't doubt it, most of the time I know who he is, and I think you know he's not one to make you complain sometimes, We'll be fine together."

Hermione almost agreed.

Pansy sighed gracefully: "Narcissa is a slut, completely unqualified as a mother, but she is not completely useless." She pointed to the brass doorknob of the common room: "You know, he inherited her grace and, of course, her cheekbones."

"Thank you, Pansy," Hermione felt the need to say.

The girl shrugged: "Don't be so depressed, we are the only ones left in the school, and tomorrow we will go our separate ways, and I suspect things will get worse."

Pansy went back to her own room, which was halfway down the corridor closest to the lounge.She would miss the room, whose location and the sound quality of the cellar meant she would often, inadvertently, of course, eavesdrop on conversations in the common room.

She wanted to push the door open, but the door suddenly opened from the inside startled her.

"So he's back? You told him? What should Granger say?" Goyle asked impatiently.There was a big hollow where he'd sat waiting for her earlier, and that's what they were doing last night, because Draco would probably be back at Hogwarts at eleven o'clock last night.

Pansy frowned, pushed him away, and said nothing until the door closed: "Keep your voice down! They're back. It seems we don't need to tell him the news, Professor Snape has already said it."

Gore shifted his considerable weight from his right foot to his left: "How is he?"

"Maybe it's better than we thought," Pansy sighed. "He was a little uncomfortable at that time, it should be caused by that news." She kicked off her slippers and sat on the bed.

A stuffed yellow elephant was lying between two beige ribbon cushions, and Pansy grabbed the elephant and held it in his arms.

It was a meaningful silence.

"Since it's over, you should sleep for a while, and it will be dawn soon."

She didn't answer right away, but still grabbed the elephant's ear between her fingers: "Did you see Blaise yesterday?" She asked Goyle without raising her head.

"No."

"Would it be too much to think if he got lost and fell off a cliff to his death?"

"Pansy..."

"You're an idiot if you think he'll let you quit after a few years, Death Eater once, Death Eater forever, Goyle."

Gore shook his head: "I will not make the same mistakes as my father. Believe me, I will find a way to leave, and then I will let you and your family stand up again. You don't have to worry about anything, just wait for me, this is My request."

She gave him a long, good-natured look, full of tension and disappointment: "In the entire history of filthy and vile Death Eaters, you must be the only one who joined in order to retire."

This is a lie, many people join the Death Eaters for some plausible reasons, for fame, wealth, honor or, the torture of love.

In fact, the reason Goyle joined was because Pansy's broke father wouldn't allow his marriage proposal unless he could get some money in a short amount of time.The Goyles had no ill-gotten gains, and all their possessions had been lost like those of the Malfoys.

Brace, the one who admits to living affluently and comfortably, paints a lucrative picture.

Evil and arrogant monarchs need capital to support their activities. After all, even the Dark Lord needs a roof over his head. If the rumors are true, Voldemort's taste is gradually becoming Gothic extravagance.Supporters of the Dark Lord secretly run a number of illegal businesses, with the trade in illegal goods and embargoed artifacts being typical examples.Blaise also mentioned a potions laboratory that had just been set up to manufacture illegal drugs for the Muggle market.

When more and more senior Death Eaters seem to be involved in family vendettas and are on the way to Voldemort's end, the new generation of followers such as Brace sees the trend of the times, which is far better than blindly following Voldemort's blood purification theory Much more meaningful.Beyond the mind, brute force is also a driving force.Goyle may not have the brightest minds, but he does know how to be intimidating, how to be a backup, how to flank and defend.

He's been doing it all his life.

If you want to make money, you must first gain power and power.Goyle wasn't particularly ambitious, he just wanted to get a head start.With his family already hopelessly in disrepute and his own academic performance failing, career options were lackluster.

"If things hadn't gone that way, Draco would have joined us." He felt he had to make that clear to Pansy, who was now the unofficial leader of the Draco Malfoy fandom.

Pansy snorted coldly: "Maybe, but you're not Draco. If you join, you'll have to stand on your own, and he won't be there to take care of you."

"I don't need him!" Goyle's voice was a little louder, because Pansy's blue eyes were so bright.

Goyle wants to smash something.

He screwed things up.All he had to do before leaving Hogwarts was get Draco back on track, say something sympathetic to Narcissa's death, and say goodbye to Pansy forever.He would have written to Millicent, but Pansy hadn't agreed just in case.That's fine, but Gower's talent for writing letters is also a mess.

Apparently, he's messed up in a lot of ways.With a heavy heart, he took a step toward the door, then stopped and turned to look at Pansy.

"I'm leaving," he said sharply.

The elephant was crushed flat: "Very well, let's go."

Goyle let out a male growl of frustration: "I might not see you again for a year."

"Well, whatever you want."

She was a cow, and Goyle didn't know why he loved her so much: "For Merlin's sake, Pansy! Would you like to say goodbye to me!"

Pansy threw the chubby elephant on the bed and stood up with his nose in the air.

"Goodbye, Gregory. I hope you will surely die next month, and then die