Sothing simred between the lines, and Igora wasn’t sure what it was. Weren’t these two sworn enemies? Rivals, at least? Potter had spoken up for Malfoy at his trial. But this? Igora wasn’t sure if she was really looking at the sa people. Hang on, she thought. Why did Potter’s clothes look so familiar?
Potter’s face relaxed. “All the sa. I guess I’ll leave you to your thoughts.” He turned around and climbed the steps. As Malfoy’s eyes followed Potter’s form, the blond dug sothing out of his waistcoat and gripped it in front of him.
After a few monts, he finally looked down and opened his hand to reveal a golden pocket watch. Malfoy inspected it for a mont with a shrewd eye and then fiddled with the dials.
“Look Malfoy, about what happened at Neville’s,” Igora hadn’t seen Potter descend the steps, and apparently, Malfoy hadn’t noticed either judging by the horrified surprise plastered across his face. Potter’s gaze fell to the golden watch in the other man’s palm.
Without pause, Potter lunged at Malfoy.
Igora saw the crash of limbs and then a bright, blinding white light. She blinked several tis in recovery, only to see the spot in front of her pletely empty. The two n were gone.
Harry felt as if he’d been falling for days, but his feet had never left solid ground.
And then there was sothing solid and warm pressed against him. It slled like forest and sunshine and Hogwarts. Soone. “Malfoy,” Harry pushed the man away. The force sent the blond stumbling backward, his arms outstretched to balance himself. Harry zeroed in on the golden watch in Malfoy’s right hand. “That wouldn’t be a Tipiece in your hand? Would it?”
With wide eyes, Malfoy responded by shoving the object in question into his pocket.
“That wouldn’t be,” Harry stepped forward and poked a finger into Malfoy’s chest, “the Tipiece? As in the thing on the ransom list? Marwan Zivantus’ bloody Ti Turner?” Harry couldn’t stop his blood from practically boiling with anger. Just when he’d decided he could trust Malfoy, the git proves that he can’t be trusted. “I was right,” he said, chest heaving. “I was right and you laughed at . You had it this entire ti.”
Malfoy’s features molded into sothing neutral, unreadable. “I didn’t actually get the chance to laugh at you. Lovegood walked in before I could ridicule your assertion.”
“Unbelievable,” Harry muttered. He turned around and stared up at the hotel entrance. “If I hadn’t e back, what were you going to do?”
It took so long for Malfoy to answer, Harry considered that he’d walked away. But then finally he replied, “I was going to find a ti to ask Marwan about the plant. About the kidnappers.”
“That was your plan?”
“I don’t know, alright, Potter,” Malfoy’s voice rose in volu. Harry turned back around. Malfoy actually looked flustered when he added, “I didn’t think we had any other options left.”
Harry sighed. He could see the hopeless frustration in his eyes, and he’d be lying if he hadn’t felt the sa way too. “Why don’t we go inside and talk it over with Pansy?”
Malfoy’s jaw clenched, but he tilted his head and gave Harry a slight nod.
They walked into the hotel, shoulder to shoulder, in silence. Harry felt his anger subsiding, but the trust he’d built up in him had disappeared, leaving him hollow. What else had Malfoy kept hidden? As they stood and waited for the lift, Harry tried to look anywhere but at Malfoy. His eye caught the stack of Daily Prophets on a nearby table.
“That can’t be right,” he murmured. The paper had the next day’s date on it. He went to grab the top copy and unfolded it. He recognized the main article under the fold—the one about the new Quidditch roster.
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