（HP同人）secrets（英文版）分節閱讀 38

Winky went to the desk and picked up a piece of paper which she then handed to Harry.

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Harry looked at it and groaned softly. Hermione had been there looking for him and from the note Aunt Petunia had left for him, he gathered his aunt had very rudely sent Hermione packing. At least she’d thought to warn him. Harry cursed himself for forgetting to at least dash off a note to Hermione letting her know he was fine before he fell asleep.

Not sure of how long it would take for Hedwig to deliver a message, Harry decided it might just be his best solution to simply pop into the Weasley’s house for breakfast that morning. In fact, he was starved, and a hearty Weasley breakfast sounded like a really good idea.

“Does Master Harry wish for Winky to do anything?” Winky asked quietly.

Harry stared at her. “Don’t you need to sleep?” he asked curiously.

“Winky rested earlier when Mistress Victoria went to sleep,” Winky answered. “Winky is ready for whatever Master Harry wishes.”

Frowning, Harry tried to think about what even needed to be done at the moment. The recent crisis was currently over. For the most part, he thought, with a glance to the bed. It was still several hours before he had to meet Snape, and even a couple hours before he’d be going to the Weasleys.

“Um, if you don’t mind, you could work for a couple of hours on the house,” Harry suggested quietly. “I’m afraid I’m going to need you here for Victoria again soon. I have to go to the Weasleys this morning for breakfast to deal with this,” he said, holding up the note from his aunt. “Then later I’ve got things to do at the house myself. Um, don’t touch anything in the kitchen. I’ll be dealing with that mess later,” he said with a grimace.

He looked at Winky apologetically. “I’m sorry I created such a disaster, but I had to get it dropped off and I was just too tired to care at the time. Plus, I still had to hurry to get back here to help Malfoy.”

“It is all right, Master Harry,” Winky said with a smile. “Winky is happy to be useful.”

Harry gave her a twisted smile. “I don’t know what I’d be doing without you at the moment,” he admitted.

He frowned, turning thoughtful. “I’m going to need a place to brew potions, but I don’t know what would be the most appropriate room. I reckon I need to talk to Madam Pomfrey again today to see how she’s doing on supplies. I’m not sure how urgent that situation is yet.”

He let out a frustrated sigh. “Well, for now, I reckon you can work on whatever you think best, except ignore the kitchen, and be back here in a couple hours. Oh, and could you, um, please bring some breakfast for Malfoy and Victoria when you come back?” he asked, wincing at all the responsibilities he was placing on Winky.

She just gave him a wide smile, though, nodded, and then disappeared with a pop. Sighing, Harry went to use the loo, then came back trying to decide what to do next.

“Potions, Potter?”

Harry focused on Draco, who was now propped up in the bed. “How are you feeling?” Harry asked, ignoring the question he’d been asked. He eyed Draco critically. “You’re looking a lot better,” he said.

“Aside from the fact that I desperately need to use the loo, I actually feel better than I have in a long, long time,” Draco said softly.

Harry chuckled and gestured to the door. “You know the way,” he said.

Grimacing, Draco got out of bed and disappeared down the hall. Harry took his place on the bed and sprawled out, feeling halfway relaxed for the moment. While Draco was gone, he tried to figure out how to respond to the question about potions. Anything relating Harry to potions was up for suspicion and he knew it.

Draco came back and shoved at Harry’s feet so he could sit at the end of the bed. Harry willingly shifted, feeling generous.

“I think we need to talk,” Draco said firmly.

Harry groaned, feeling his relaxed, generous mood flying out the window. “Those words never mean anything good,” he grumbled.

Draco smirked at him and nodded. “I have to say that I actually agree with you on that,” he said.

“Then why do we have to talk?” Harry whinged. “I was feeling halfway peaceful for once.”

Draco was silent for a couple minutes and Harry grudgingly sat up and propped himself against the headboard.

“You’re a mystery, Harry Potter,” Draco said quietly. “I don’t understand you at all.”

“I’m not a mystery,” Harry scoffed. “Ask anyone, yourself included, I’m regarded as an open book.”

Draco eyed him contemplatively. “And that’s precisely how you’ve got everyone fooled and constantly underestimating you,” he said.

Harry blinked in surprise, not sure how to respond to that statement.

Draco didn’t seem to expect a response as he continued. “Everyone seems to think they know you, you react in the ways they expect you to, and then you go about doing your own thing without anyone being the wiser.”

Draco waved his hand expansively. “Take this situation. On the surface, your friends don’t have a clue as to what you’re doing. You’re doing all the right things and saving this town, but then you’re going behind the scenes and doing whatever works for you, regardless of what everyone thinks.”

Harry shrugged. “I suppose,” he said.

Draco snorted in amusement. “I’ve always pegged you as the ultimate Gryffindor, trying to save the world. And you are that,” he admitted. “But what no one seems to realize, is that there’s this Slytherin side of you that hides behind that Gryffindor exterior.”

Harry’s eyes widened. With the exception of Dumbledore, he’d never told anyone that the Sorting Hat had wanted to put him in Slytherin. He’d never been told, by anyone, that he had Slytherin qualities. And now, here was the Slytherin Ice Prince himself, talking about Harry’s Slytherin side.

Draco was still eying him contemplatively which was making Harry squirm. “You know, I’d always thought you were a ridiculous Gryffindor, always getting himself caught. But now, I’d be willing to bet that there’s far more times that you’ve been sneaky enough not to get caught. I’d be willing to bet that there’s a whole lot to Harry Potter that most people don’t know.”

Draco eyed the room they were sitting in. “How many people actually know your relatives have always treated you like dirt and that you live like this? Hiding an upbringing like this sounds like something a Slytherin would do. It doesn’t sound like something an attention-seeking Gryffindor would do.”

“I’m not an attention seeker,” Harry said hotly, Draco pushing one of his many buttons.

“That’s my point,” Draco said calmly. “I always thought you were, but,” he glanced around the mostly bare room again. “Obviously you’re not.”

Harry frowned, trying to figure out exactly what Draco’s point was in all this, because he wasn’t seeing it.

“I came to you with Victoria, relying on your Gryffindor qualities, but in hindsight, I think I saw something more there,” Draco said. “What would have happened if I’d taken Victoria to Weasley or Granger, or any other Gryffindor?” he asked.

“They would’ve helped,” Harry said, frowning doubtfully.

“They would’ve helped Victoria,” Draco agreed. “They would’ve kept her safe, and then they would’ve had me locked up to keep everyone else safe from me.”

Harry couldn’t really deny that, so he didn’t say anything.

“But you, Harry Potter,” Draco said. “You kept your mouth shut and didn’t turn me in right away. You waited to determine if there was anything you could get out of the situation. Just like a Slytherin would do.”

“That wasn’t what I was thinking at the time,” Harry muttered.

Draco shrugged. “Maybe that wasn’t your conscious thoughts, but it showed in your actions,” he said.

“I’m still not trying to take advantage of you like a Slytherin would,” Harry said. “And you’ve been around for almost a month.”

“I know that,” Draco said. “That’s part of the reason why you’re a mystery. I don’t quite understand how you can be such a mix of both Gryffindor and Slytherin qualities. A Gryffindor would’ve turned me in immediately. A Slytherin would’ve held me captive and tried to use me to any advantage. You’ve somehow used Slytherin methods with a Gryffindor attitude.”

Harry shrugged, feeling like they were going in circles and it was making him feel exhausted again. His mind seemed to be a constant swirl of thoughts and emotions, but he wasn’t used to this cool, analytical style. This was usually when he tuned out and let Hermione have at it.

“Is there a point to all this?” he asked irritably. He couldn’t quite decide if he was being insulted or complimented, and it wasn’t improving his mood.