young man returning home

Chapter 7 Looking Back

She didn't have the strength to embrace the prosperous memories that hid in the crevices of the moldy rainy season and grew like thorny stems.Slytherin's tacit understanding of pure-bloods now seems like a weak and pale joke.At the engagement ceremony of the fifth-year pure-blood nobleman, the platinum-blond boy left his pure-blood little bride and left alone.For one, bloody Mudblood.

On Christmas Eve in the fifth grade, the first snow fell.She stood alone in the snow, with the cold wind blowing through her bones, and her back was bleak.Behind him was the disgraced Parkinson family and a mess that Malfoy had left behind.

The little bride had no tears all night.

Pansy was standing by the jagged stone walls of the Slytherin common room, the past flooding in.There are sparkling lights above the head, and the fish and water are jubilant.

Another boring afternoon with the Slytherins.Goyle and Crabbe were arguing over the stacks of snow orbs and ice rats in front of them—Pansy glanced at them speechlessly. They always had a talent for turning the common room into a commissary.Blaise slung his legs up on the table in boredom, and occasionally tapped the table twice rhythmically with his black-soled leather shoes—it depended on his rhythmic thoughts.His entire body was sunk in the sofa, and he was resting with his arms folded and his eyes closed. The family ring on his little finger swayed with his arm, occasionally shining with broken glass.He adjusted his sitting posture, gradually raised the half of his body that had slid down, and murmured like a dream:

"—Draco, he's looking for death!"

"Hey! Ice Rat!" Pansy threw her wand at Crabbe unceremoniously, "Save some for Draco!" She turned to Blaise, who was nestled on the sofa, "Do you want some?" ... an ice mouse?"

"Teeth chattering? How boring!" He waved his hand, finally opened his eyes and glanced at Goyle and Crabbe, who were busy grabbing candy, and regretted that Pansy's wand failed to hit Crabbe's head, "To them Feed the Snow Ball, let them grab it from the ceiling!"

The Slytherins laughed.

"Would you like something to drink?" Pansy walked to the sofa, sat down, and asked Blaise.

He shook his head.Suddenly nodded again: "Bring Draco's brewed 'coffee' - when did he fall in love with drinking this Muggle thing?"

"It's not as good as butterbeer," the little witch shrugged, and asked, "what's the point? Muggle things—"

Blaise cursed in a low voice, "Damn it!"

"He's going to destroy Slytherin!" Pansy stood up and handed the coffee to Blaise, smiling palely, "doesn't everyone... want to escape—Slytherin's dungeon? Gryffindor's tower , the scenery must be different."

"Don't be a fool, Pansy," he said, taking the coffee, "Slytherins are born noble!"

"Let's dance, Zambini,—like, fifth-grade Christmas Eve," she chuckled, pushing Blaise's hand away calmly.

- Squeak - ah.

The door to the Slytherin common room was gently pushed open.A brown head with long hair poked in timidly.She took a deep breath.

"What a rarity," Pansy sneered, "Granger, you're actually getting involved with Slytherin."

"Granger?" Blaise put down his coffee cup, stood up from the sofa, and stared at Hermione at the door with interest.

Hermione avoided their eyes and looked around.The lighting in the Slytherin common room was not good, and there was a dim green crystal lamp hanging from the ceiling.The furnishing of the whole room is comfortable and warm, not as cold as she thought it was before.The countless quiet afternoons that the proud boy spent with Slytherin were all in this small space decorated with silver and green decorations, dimly lit and mysterious, where he drank afternoon tea gracefully and satirized every dull and reckless person proudly. Gryffindor.

"He's not here," Pansy interrupted her searching gaze coldly, "Granger, Slytherin's territory is not where you should be."

Just as Hermione was about to speak, Blaise had stood up and stopped Pansy lazily: "What?"

"Ask Draco." Pansy spread her hands helplessly.The little witch's light and dull gaze was directly on Hermione in the corner of the eye.

Blaise turned to Hermione and asked with some concern, "Are you looking for Draco?"

Under the glowing green light of Slytherin, the long brown hair has spots of light jumping restlessly, which is a little weird.The little witch finally nodded.

A Gryffindor in the Parselmouth territory, surrounded by a group of Slytherins, is really a very weird thing.

Blaise's puzzled eyes kept alternating between the two, and he finally walked up to Pansy as calmly as possible, and asked in a protracted tone, "Ms. Parkinson, do you need to explain?"

"Ask Draco," she repeated.

"Where the hell am I going to find him? Pansy—"

Pansy shrank back and glanced at Hermione contemptuously: "It's the same for Mudblood."

Blaise also glanced at Hermione, the little witch stared back at him with innocent eyes for no reason, "Damn it!" He cursed inwardly, Draco caused trouble!

"I don't think she's smart enough to explain everything I want to know. Pancy, please—" Blaise retreated back to the sofa, his long legs still resting on the table.The black-soled leather shoes made a rhythmic sound.

Hermione was not used to Slytherin's expression. "—Draco...isn't there?" For a moment she didn't know what to say—in the oppressive atmosphere of Slytherin.

"You have eyes, Granger." Pansy was unfriendly. "...Draco offered to go to the Mudblood to...make a goddamn Draco-style... potion?" Pansy turned his head to Blaise, and finally began to explain to him.

"I have to admit that Draco has an amazing talent for potions. But," Blaise whispered again in his characteristic long-tailed voice, "he shouldn't be looking for a Gryffindor.— Didn't he always pester you to cooperate with him in the development of..." Blaise paused for a moment, finally deciding to cater to the "appropriate" word that Pansy invented, "Draco-style... potion?"

"That's true. 'Pansy, I beg you, Malfoy is begging you', he said to me." The little witch squinted her eyes and smiled softly, which was her best extravagant memory.

"And what happened afterwards? He went to find Mud... ahem," he stopped just in time, Zambini's noble manners keeping him from being rude, "it was not wise for him to go to Miss Know-It-All. Gryffindor I'm not good at black magic..."

"No no, Miss Know-it-all's quick thoughts will be very helpful to him, this 'Draco-style potion', I don't have extra time to read the damn bookshelf full of ancient magic books," Pansy mocked .She glanced at Hermione, who was standing quietly by the side, and said something pointedly: "The price is not small, Draco used a test tube of unicorn blood - a cursed life, in exchange for a meeting with Gryffindor." Opportunities to work together…”

"Looks like he's bound to do it." Blaise took a sip of his coffee.

"Mr. Zambini, I have to remind you that Slytherin has the wonderful quality of never giving up until it achieves its goal."

Hermione was not used to Slytherin's behavior, and the two people in front of her undoubtedly regarded her as air.She stared down at the tops of her feet and murmured, "Okay, okay, Draco took back the tube of unicorn blood - Slytherins can't be trusted. Otherwise - I don't think The cold basement of Slytherin has nothing to do with me."

"Oh, Draco's in trouble - he's pissed off Gryffindor's Miss Know-It-All!"

"Don't disturb." Hermione dropped this sentence, turned around and wanted to leave.

"Hush——" Blaise leisurely withdrew his slender legs from the long table, and stood up from the sofa with some reluctance.He dragged his usual Slytherin tone, and called Hermione from behind: "No hurry, Granger, you have to give Draco some time. ——What would you like to drink? Muggle... coffee? "

Hermione turned her head and looked at Blaise in surprise. He was really busy making coffee.Hermione was extremely surprised that there was such a Muggle thing in the Slytherin lounge!

"He doesn't want to come back! Damn it, he still knows the way back!" Pan Xi's sharp voice sounded.The little witch turned angrily and walked to the door, ready to use her wand to "greet" her late partner.

The wet stone door of Slytherin slowly opened, and the strange sound of the stone wall rubbing entered Hermione's ears.A platinum-blond head poked out—he seemed tired, with a haggard smile that had stuck with him in recent days.

"Granger?" The moment he saw her, the boy was obviously taken aback.

"Draco, you're playing with fire!" Blaise said as he looked at his partner who had returned late at the door.He walked up to Hermione and handed her the hot coffee.

"Very good. Are you here to collect debts?" Draco ignored Blaise and walked straight to Hermione. "Slytherin keeps what you say, and you should trust me," he explained to Hermione very patiently. "The blood of the unicorn is temporarily stored with me, and it is safe. You help me prepare the potion I want Come out, and it's yours right away."

"What about Ron? He's still in St. Mungo's bed!"

"Red hair is not my concern," he waved his hand impatiently, "it seems that the quiet St. Mungo is more suitable for him now. You can guarantee that when he wakes up, he will see his little girlfriend talking with Slytherin Parseltongue every day Going to the library won't be mad when you get tired of being together? Can you guarantee that his low IQ won't be too out of curiosity to go to the Forbidden Forest again? Malfoy won't give you a second test tube to save his life!"

Hermione pursed her lips and said nothing.Draco's consideration was not unreasonable.She asked cautiously, "...will he be all right?"

Draco nodded solemnly: "I'm not interested in tricking a nutria." His light gray eyes, as beautiful as the deep lake of Hogwarts, were shining slightly, desperate to gain trust.

Finally, Pansy couldn't hold back and said, "Draco, what are you doing? For the glory of Slytherin, you should break away from the Mudblood immediately!"

"Maybe Gryffindor doesn't want to cooperate with Parseltongue either," the boy responded coldly, "Don't spoil my good work, Parkinson!"

"It's okay to listen to Pansy's advice more." Blaise patted Draco on the shoulder, smiled and said in a usual mocking tone, "Although she is not a rational woman most of the time, she is sober now. it's time to."

"Brace!"

"Stop, stop," Blaise finally managed to change the subject before Pansy exploded, "Granger, a well-bred lady won't hesitate to praise a gentleman's workmanship—your coffee is getting cold."

Only then did Hermione refocus her attention on the coffee in her hand - the base had almost no temperature at all, and two wisps of lifeless hot air were dying to float over the rim of the cup.She asked Blaise curiously: "How do you have such a Muggle thing?"

"Ask Draco." He spread his hands, and his tone was exactly the same as Pansy's.

Only then did Hermione realize dully that the owner of these Muggle things should be Draco.The boy narrowed his eyes to respond to her doubts: "I bought a lot of 'coffee', I once had a Muggle girlfriend..."

"Come on Draco!" Pansy interrupted him mercilessly, "Why don't you just lay out all your love history in front of the Mudblood?"