分卷阅读17（1 / 1）

Harry

Heknowsheshouldn’tbelistening.

Peryhadometwohoursago,walkingthroughthehousewiththesameauthoritythatheusedtohavewhenhewasaprefet.Hehadabagslungoverhisbakandabindertukunderhisarm,inkstainsalreadysptteredonhisfingers.andthenheandDraodisappearedupintothelibrary.

HarryknewthatifDraowantedhimtoknowwhatwasbeingsaid,theywouldhavedoneitinthekithenofthelivingroom.Still,thatdoesn’tstophimfrompausingoutsidethedoorwhenhegoestobed,wathingthembothfromthedoorframe.

herPeryorDraoseeshim.Harryknowsheshouldwalkaway,buthean’t,notwhenDrao’sshouldersarehunhedinlikethatandtherearetearsstreamingdownbothhisandPery’sheeks.Hewantstostorminandtellthemboththattheinterviewisover,beausehedoesnotwanttoseeDraoinpain,butthatisnothishoietomake.

“Ifyououldtellpeopleonething,”Perysays,andHarrygetsthefeelingthatit’salmostoveranyways.“Onethingaboutwhatyou’vetoldmeheretoday,whatwoulditbe?”

Therewasamuggletapereorderbetweenthemandaquillfloatingintheairabove,takingdowneveryword,everystutteringbreath.“IknowwhatIdidwaswrong.”Hisvoiewasthikwiththetearswhenhespoke.“ButyouhavetouandthatIneverintendedtodoanyofthat.Inevergotahoie,andthenallofasuddenitwaskillorbekilled.”

Apause.

“AndIhosemyself.”ThebreaththatDraotakesismorelikeashudder.“Ijustwantedtosurvive.”

Chapter14

Drao

Thesttimehesawhismotherwasduringthewar.

Hehadbeenfighting,spellsflyingallaroundhim,peoplerunning,sobbing,sreaming,thewallsolpsingallaroundthemandthedustfromallthehaosfillinghismouthandoatinghisteeth.Draohadjustgivenintothethoughtthatthisisit,Iamgoingtodiehere,atraitortoeverythingIeverthoughtwasrightwhensheameoutofthedust,anavengingangelthatsenteveryonebstingawayfromhimwithonlyonespell.

Draohadalwaysthoughthisfatherwasthestrongone,buthewaswrong,beauseinthatmomentNarissaMalfoywasawomanmadeoffire,andheolpsedintoher,lettinghimselfbeweakforaseond.Sheheldhimlikehewasalittlekidagain,usingherthumbstowipeawaythetearshedidn’tknowhewasryingandpressingakisstohisforehead.“Wehavetogo,”Shehadtoldhim,eyeswidewithfear.“Wehavetoleavebeforeit’sover.”

Hehadthoughtthatthismeantthattheywerelosing.Thattheywererunningfromtheministry,andfromtheOrder,andfromHarry.Thatsomeday,hewouldbepretendingtobesomeoneelseinahouseequallyasnieastheoneashewasin,aomfortablebutparanoidlife,andinthemiddleofSundaydinnerRon,Hermione,andHarrywouldbeatdownhisdoor.

Itwasn’tuntilterthatherealizeditwastheDarkLordtheywereafraidof.

Draofollowedher.Andthen,whenhismotherinsistedthattheyallturnthemselvesin,onsquenesbedamnedandhisfatherfoughtagainsther,hefollowedherthen,too,allthewaytotheministry,wherehehandedoverhiswandandsatintheinterrogationroom,waitingforsomeonetotakehimtoAzkaban.

Intheend,though,hisfatherwastheonlyonewhogotsenttoAzkaban.Hismotherwasgivenaheavyfineandhadtodoommunityservie,trytopayreparationtothefamilieswholostlovedones.Draogotprobation.

Hehasn’tseenhismothersine.

It’sHarrythattalkshimintoit.“IfIhadamother,”Hehadsaid,eyesintenseandvoiequiet.“Nothingwouldstopmefromseeingher.”

Draohadwantedtosreamathim.Tosaythathewaswrong,thatheouldn’tkeepsayingthingslikethisandthinkingitwasfair.Thatthistime,hedidn’tknowwhatitwaslike.ButDraostillfoundhimselfvisitingheranyways.

ShelivesinaftinParis,rentingfromsomemugglewomanwhowastryingtobeapainterbutwasn’tquitemakingitthere.Thewholethingsmellslikepaintfumesandsentedandles,andthestepsaresotwistedandnarrowthatheisn’tsurehowshemakesitupthem,butitsstillaniepe,justasomfortableandexpensivelookingasthemanor.

Shehadaertainwayoflife,hismother,andshewasn’tgoingtoletalittlethinglikeawarstandinginthewayofhowshewantstolive.

“Drao.”Hismotherbreathesouthisname,andthensheishugginghim,rushinghim.Theguiltthreatenstoswallowhimwhenhethinksofallthelettershedidnotanswer,butevennowthisistoomuh,toosoon.“I’msogdtoseeyou.”

“Metoo.”Beausehewas.Helovedthiswoman,evenifshewaswrong,evenifsheonlydidtherightthingbeauseoftheneedforthefamilynametosurvive.“I’msorryittookmesolong.”

Shedoesnottellhimthatitisalright,orthatshefiveshim.Hedoubtsverymuhthateitherofthesethingsweretrue.Shedoes,however,moveasideandlethimomein,tothishousewithitstoomanyandlesandstrangepaintings.Draoletshergivehimthetour,lookingatthepitureframesshowingtheimageofafamilyheannotremembereverbeingandthemisshapenpotteryonthemantle.

“Doyoulikeit?”Hervoiehasaforedbrightnessaboutit,andhedoesnotknowifitisbeauseofhimorifshesimplydoesnothavethesameenergythatsheusedto.“Itookuppottery.Abigailtalkedmeintoit.”

Abigailwasthegirldownstairs,theonewithpaintstukunderhernailsandoloredsarfshangingfromarakinherkithen.Hehadtowalkthroughherfttogettohismother’s.

Hismother,though,wasnotsomeoneheknew.Thewomanherememberedwouldnotbeseentakingapotteryss,andwouldnotdispythemoutwhereanyoneanseethem.Itwasstrangetoknowhowfastthingsan

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