The late Mr. Potter — Chapter 8
“I get it.” Daphne breathed. “Golden boy Potter is too nice to get his hands dirty.”
Harry gulped, not sure if that was incorrect. “But you did. Which means you’re not so nice anymore.”
“Goodbye, Mr. nice Potter.” Harry muttered, then dug in his jacket.
He took out that picture he stole from Daphne. “Have any news about Draco?”
“No.”
Harry nodded.
“The link doesn’t work.”
Draco smiled at Harry, he grazed the plastic with his thumb. Took a deep breath. At least Draco didn’t have to do it.
He basked in the warmth of his jacket, stroking the picture like it was a lamp and a genie was going to get summoned, as he sat on the stone cold floor.
Maybe Draco would’ve been summoned. Merlin knows what kind of skills his new magic could’ve unlocked.
“Because you broke up?”
“It’s the magical border.” Daphne laughed. “And we got back together.”
“When?”
“Two hours later.” Harry smiled, hiding his teeth.
Draco smiled too, once again, in an infinite loop.
Serious, smile, dimple.
Serious, smile, dimple.
And so on.
