Bride of the HP Dragon

Alastor Moody walked into the Ministry meeting room and narrowly missed Rufus Scrimgeour, who happened to be leaving.

Both of them stood at the door trying to be polite, and the atmosphere was a bit tense, both of them trying to improve their relationship.

Saying they don't like each other is like saying Rubes Hagrid gets drunk.

"I'm sorry," said Moody gruffly, the only one who could say sorry without apology.

"Oh no, you go first." Scrimgeour's reply sounded like he was biting his nails, having gathered reports from conversations with Draco and Harry about the manor attack.

Neither of them moved, and the ten young people sitting around the round conference table looked at them with little interest.

Draco sat next to him Harry: "Are they always like this?"

Harry was munching on a pumpkin almond cake: "Yeah."

The drowsy Ron was awakened by the sound of the chair being pulled away: "Here you are, Mad-Eye."

Moody dragged the chair across and sat down with the wooden legs spread apart, waiting until Scrimgeour left and closed the door behind him before pulling back his ubiquitous gray winter coat and pulling out a large bottle of warm, spicy mulled wine. No one could think of a better hot drink in this dreary winter.

Words of admiration start to flow from the conference room, and others take mugs from the sideboard and blow the dust off them.

"So," Moody began, "what the hell happened tonight? The summary is that 25 Death Eaters were captured at Malfoy Manor and now stripped down to their wicked underpants in our interrogation room .Boy, can I add that?"

Ten pairs of eyes (one magical) looked expectantly at Draco, belatedly realizing that Moody was referring to him.He was still wearing his banquet gown, which was perfectly clean, save for the knees of his trousers being soiled when he crawled up and down the ceiling.

"We're guessing it was an act of revenge for Bellatrix's arrest," Harry interjected, and many people nodded in agreement. "It's well known that Draco made the arrest, and it's all over the place."

Orodean Smith frowned. "But if they're just trying to catch Malfoy, why attack a house full of Slytherins?" He said to Draco, "It's massacre, if you don't mind me saying that, Your group is known for Voldemort's extra sympathy."

Draco's answer was very cold: "Voldemort did it himself. He knows how effective it is to set fire to our backyard. My family belongs to this case, because I have recovered Malfoy Manor."

Ron snorted, "He was trying to catch Harry with his own hands, and he almost succeeded. They found out that Harry must have wet his pants when he was at Malfoy Manor."

"It's too early to draw conclusions," muttered member Angie Johnson, who sat across the table.

"We haven't had an attack of this magnitude in over a year," Moody reminded everyone. "The last time it was the Watersley Village Garden Party incident, and the number of attacks was only five people. Voldemort attacked so rashly when manpower was tight." Worrying to me, now that he's lost 25 Death Eaters, he can't take any more defeats."

"It could be careless, it could be carelessness," added Seamus Finnegan, who was pouring hot red wine into a mug passed on the table.

"There's a bit of both in today's events," Draco said. "They're targeting me, but they're going to kill anyone they think is close to me."

Harry took a sip of his wine: "Welcome to my life."

Moody agrees with Draco: "They have to wait for the right moment to get you, which is the second hardest thing after attacking you under Potter's protection."

Draco sneered at Moody. "Protection? Really? I thought I was being watched while you were putting together my story."

Moody shrugged: "Different routes lead to the same goal."

"You have to watch out for yourself, Malfoy." Ron said to Draco a little seriously.

"No need." Draco said slowly and seriously.

Moody was looking for his pocket watch, he stood up slowly, the chair scraped on the floor: "Then the interrogation will start downstairs soon, and I need three people to help."

Seamus, Dean, and Ron were more than happy to volunteer, and the rest of Oro went about their business, leaving only Draco in the room with a thoughtful Harry, who yawned.

"Potter, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course." Harry tilted his chair back and put his feet up on the conference table.The bruising on the forehead looked more serious under the dim light.Harry took off his glasses, folded them, and laid them on his chest.

"When you are in actual combat, will it kill people?"

Harry was silent for a moment, there was no natural light in the room, only a dim yellow light.Draco's pale hair looked more blonde than silver, and it took him a while to fade his healthy tropical tan, but if there's one thing that can take the tan away completely, it's winter in England .Draco's skin was as pale now as it had been at school.

They were both exhausted, but Draco's tiredness was more obvious, his eyes were black and blue.

"Do you want to know about the Oro regulations or do you want to know about my behaviour?" Harry asked.

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"It's actually not the same. The answer is yes. I did kill people. The situation..."

"Must you be so?" Draco interjected.

Harry looked at him: "I'd say the situation was 'inevitable'."

"Oh, yes."

Harry withdrew his feet and sat forward: "Why do you ask, what happened at Malfoy Manor?"

At first Draco didn't look like he wanted to elaborate, but then he said, "If Hermione hadn't stepped in to save that bastard, I'd have killed a Death Eater."

"Oh," said Harry with some embarrassment, "you know Hermione, she's everyone's conscience when we're too tired and angry to care. There's no denying that she can be ruthless when she has to, But usually, she's always nagging inside of you," Harry said with fondness.

Draco said nothing, his gray eyes staring at the wall in front of him.

"Isn't that what you wanted to hear?"

"When I was going to kill Dominic Normanoff, he was no longer a threat to me," Draco finally said, which was a very casual confession, but Harry could hear the uncertainty behind the words .

"Okay, so what did he do?"

"Shivering, and I'm going to kill him because it's an easier and faster way to capture him."

Harry wondered if the incident came as a shock to himself, and it did: "So you're wondering if I'd do the same thing?" Harry speculated.

The meaning in Draco's eyes was elusive.

"No," Harry replied without thinking too much, "I won't."

"I guess that's why you are you and I am me," Draco continued, filling Harry's glass and pouring himself one.

Harry admitted that he was slow to talk heart-to-heart, but he thought he knew what the subject was really about.

"Hermione still loves you, you should go to her."

Draco wasn't at all surprised by the change of subject: "She probably thinks I'm an Avatar addict now."

"But you're not." Harry took a sip of his wine.

Draco looked at Harry very sinisterly, and Harry had to resist the urge to move the chair a little: "How do you know I'm not?"

"Oh, I don't know," Harry shrugged. "But being with someone all the time for six weeks in a row is enough to understand."

Draco seemed relieved for a moment, then he looked exasperated: "I'm not asking for your advice, Potter, you get it."

Harry raised his hand and made a soothing gesture: "Of course not, I wouldn't dare to dream about it."

"We're not friends," Draco reminded, looking the same as Hermione did five years ago on the stairs of the Great Hall at Hogwarts.

Even so, they continued to drink mulled wine in what could only be described as a fairly peaceful coexistence of silence.

Tuesday afternoon

If Ginny Weasley was going to pass out, she figured she must have passed out from the blow. (cause it was such a big hit)

But it was unthinkable to pass out next to Lucius Malfoy, and she didn't want to give Malfoy's plans a chance.

The fact that they are now on the lingerie floor of Harrods in London no doubt makes it all the more absurd.

Ginny was looking at a cheap sports bra when Malfoy suddenly appeared from behind a model in black lace pajamas.

That is, the model was wearing pajamas, not Lucius.

Probably just worried that Lavender would get suspicious, Ginny noticed that Lucius was wearing beige cotton trousers and a gray fishing jumper.

Jesus, Lucius was wearing khakis and a sweater.Ginny was really seeing clearly now, and she couldn't recall a time when he had worn less than three layers of nice and fitted clothing.

Moreover, there is a leather jacket.

So he's still alive after all, and seems to be doing really well.Malfoy was thinner than Ginny remembered, but so was Draco.The days when she wanted to be on the run were the same for all of them, and Malfoy's silver hair was cropped short now, with a neat dark gray beard.

Ginny had forgotten how much Malfoy's bounty was, but it was undoubtedly astronomical, enough for her to spend the rest of her life in peace with Mum and Dad.

Everyone who wasn't sure whether Lucius and Draco were still alive was convinced that they were both missing.Draco claimed to have no knowledge of his father's whereabouts after Snape's release from home detention.

Ginny wasn't sure if she believed him, but Harry believed it was usually a good thing.Lucius Malfoy was tall enough to stand out from the crowd, and like Draco, Lucius carried an innate sense of superiority.For such a person, it must be a challenge to try to make an unobtrusive change.

Fleeing or not, he acted as if the world owed him, and the Muggles in front of him, mostly women, stepped aside and stared at him.

Ginny wanted to slap them in the head, Lucius was an extremely evil and dangerous murder fugitive, and he was the reason Severus Snape was willing to spend the rest of his life in prison.

The same person who tried to eliminate her indirectly with Tom Riddle's diary when she was in second grade.

It's hard for a person to forget these things, isn't it?

"Miss Weasley." If Ginny had miraculously not recognized Malfoy, his voice would have given it away.In a moment, Ginny seemed to be 12 years old again, holding a crucible of books in Lihen Bookstore, disgust and sharp fear boiled in her heart.

The wand was ready in her long sleeve: "If you, a murderer, come over again, I will make you disappear."

He was so shameless that he seemed indifferent: "I didn't come to hurt you."

Ginny had to throw her head back as hard as she could to meet his eyes, and if he was going to try something stupid, she'd have to stare at his shoes.

"If you dare to act rashly, you will die." Ginny swore.

The corners of Malfoy's mouth curled up imperceptibly, and he looked at her with pleasure: "At least after everyone left Severus, it's good to have you."

Even a Muggle could sense the tense confrontation between them, people staring at them, and she walked around him so she was standing in the aisle instead of hiding behind a shelf.

"You dare to go back to England, Malfoy, I guess you are coming to see your son?"

Lucius, alarmed by the curious glance they're receiving, smiles at her and holds out his arm. "Maybe we should take a walk?"

Ginny shot back with a half-smile: "Maybe you should go back to the Ministry with me and lock yourself up?"

Lucius didn't listen: "I have something for you to help Severus, but you have to be willing to take it from me, and he has to be willing to take it from you."

The cryptic words caught Ginny's attention, and he was about to use an illegal spell: "The only thing I want from you is that you force Snape to release your signed confession."

A dark gray eyebrow raised: "He told you?"

"No," Ginny hissed, realizing she was walking beside Lucius, "but it clears him up, and that's all I care about now."

"How did I force him? I don't have the capital to bargain."

An old lady stopped suddenly in front of them, and Lucius had to step aside to avoid bumping into each other.

"I don't know, who knows what sensitive information you hold in your hands to threaten others..."

Lucius actually laughed. "I don't have anything right now, boy, not even my own name. But I have one thing that can help Severus, if you'll take it from me."

"You're crazy to think I'm going to take anything from you! I should detain you now! Take you back to the Ministry of Magic and give you a fair trial for running away like a coward!"

"What, in front of these innocent passing Muggles?" He said smoothly, looking at the old lady who was slowly advancing, it was a good threat, and they walked up the escalator: "My dear, if you If you dare to act rashly, you will die." He whispered to Ginny.

The chilly voice lingered around Ginny, making her lose a little calmness.To other onlookers, they might be a father and daughter fighting.

"What do you have to give me?" Ginny asked, hating the slight tremor in her voice.

She tensed up as Lucius reached into his pocket, but all he pulled out was a small brown envelope.

"Severus knows what to do, tell him it's my reward," he said, and he took the elevator to the lower floors.

"Say hello to Potter for me."

Merlin would be blind if the son of a bitch was out of sight and not winking at her.

Ginny stood where she was for a moment, belatedly shaken, and then she restrained herself.With trembling fingers she dug into the envelope and produced an ornate gold key wrapped in a delicate gold chain, telling how her conflicts were too much of a molehill.

This key is so beautiful that it can be used as a jewelry.

Things were in their original places, but home had become a rather different concept to Draco.

Home is a safe place to return to, no matter what nefarious things he's had to do over the past few years.

At one time his home was a series of dingy, dingy rooms in a series of dingy, dingy inns in the Wizarding Quarter of Cairo, and he lived on rooftops, in cracks in camel-trader tents, and once in a cave for two weeks. a week.On one windy night, he even slept in a tree to avoid being eaten by the jungle cats that wandered around.

He was amazed at how wet a person could be, the kind of wet you would jog in a drizzle, or stand in the Quidditch stands and get drenched in a storm.And the humidity of being drenched in tropical rain for hours, after which time you literally feel like you're drowning, wet to the bone.

Humans are really adaptable creatures, especially when all luxuries are far away and only survival is a time-consuming and energy-consuming goal.Life is ecstatically simple when you don't have to worry about your name, the clothes you wear on your back, or the status of your company.

In such an environment where there is only food and clothing, there is a strange escapism.The extravagance he had taken for granted, the act of pretending to be someone he could depend on, had been reduced to a superfluous and cumbersome burden.

He'd seen extreme poverty and human meanness, and he knew he'd been naive before he left, but he'd been right to tell Hermione years ago that the world wasn't just black and white.

Gray areas, yes, all color combinations create humans, muggles and wizards.

Home had changed him again, and now it was Malfoy Manor again—twenty-six acres.The space made him feel strangely uncomfortable, and he walked back and forth through the supposedly familiar rooms and living rooms.

But it's not a home, it's just a space, an expensively furnished space.The memories he has are not deep, and it feels like they're just pieces of the past that happen to belong to him.

Home to Hermione was a small yellow stone cottage in Northamptonshire, with a vegetable and herb garden covered in three inches of snowfall, and a shingled roof that looked in need of repair.

Twenty minutes to the west, you can go to a small Muggle township extending in all directions, with a pharmacy and primary school, and ordinary residents of up to 10 people.800 minutes to the east is a wizarding settlement, and while you eat at the local inn (serving good beer and Guinness pies), you can also maintain your broom.

Both the Potters and the Weasleys lived within easy broomstick distance if one wanted to fly out.

Honestly Draco couldn't think of a better place to move in if you wanted to live independently without being really isolated.

He was standing just outside the crooked fence of Hermione's house, wondering what the hell he was doing here.It's nine o'clock at night, and Draco is standing shin-deep in fresh snow, his broom slung over his shoulder.

Cold and silent and intense, his breath melted into a puff of mist in front of him, the sky above him was clear and cloudless, and if you wanted to count the stars, you could see thousands without the city lights.

There was a small red cylinder letterbox by the front door, and a forgotten ceramic garden patron barely in the snow in the front yard.

Draco told himself that he just wanted to see where she lived and how she was doing.It's like filling in a jigsaw puzzle so he can step back and look at the evil he's done.

See what you're missing.

It's not appropriate to expand imagination arbitrarily, he knows that he will not become a stalker who is trapped by love and crazy about love.

The lights in the front two windows of the house flickered, she was at home, why the hell did she have to be at home?

The warmth and warmth in the room attracted him like a magnet, and although his mind didn't really want to do that, he took a step forward.