分卷阅读13（1 / 2）

“Bloody hell, Potter, spit it ou—”

“Maybe I never hated you,” Potter sputtered.

“Alright, maybe you didn’t, so what?” Draco said, and he could feel their conversation falling back in that old familiar pattern, seeing who could make the other feel dumber with each word.

Potter shot him a chastising glance and Draco tried to ignore the heat he felt rise to his cheeks. So maybe only he was falling back into his old ways. Potter seed quite determined to be different.

“If your great revelation is that it turns out you don’t mind so much, I am going to have to ask you to have better revelations from now on,” Draco continued, consciously softening his voice.

“That’s not it,” Potter insisted.

“Merlin’s beard, Potter, get on with it then,” Draco said, his eyes gravitating back towards Potter’s hands, fidgeting with the sheets. He noted that he would only have to move his own a fraction for them to be touching.

“That article,” Potter began. “The one you have saved in your book—”

“You’ve looked through that?” Draco stiffened.

“I—I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have,” Potter stuttered. “But I wanted to say it was right.”

Draco gasped for air like a fish out of water. Harry had looked through his book. He tried to regain his posure, but he was sure it was in vain. “Which article, Potter, I have a few saved.”

“You know which one, Malfoy. The one Ginny had done after we broke up. The article.”

“You—Potter, that’s extrely invasive,” Draco swallowed.

“Are you really going to harp on that when I’ve just told you that—”

“I’m processing, Potter,” he spat finding Harry’s eyes again. “I’ve been exiled for going on four years, you’re the first person I’ve spoken to that isn’t Minerva McGonagall in as much ti, and you’re telling you’re…that you’re…what are you telling , Potter? You’ve not said anything.”

Harry inhaled sharply, biting off a response. His hands resuming their frantic fidget.

“I’m saying that I don’t hate you, Malfoy,” he finally replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Thanks, Potter, thank you so fucking much. If you’re quite finished being cryptic, it’s best you leave,” Draco hissed turning on his side to face away from the other boy.

“No—”

“Go.”