[HP] Noble

It wasn't the first time Draco had forced his way into the prefect's bedroom, but it was definitely the first time he'd been able to calm down and look around.At this moment, the expression on Prince Slytherin's face is between "disgust" and "satisfaction". The so-called "dislike" is of course expressing his dissatisfaction with the decoration taste here. As for "satisfaction"... probably He was completely satisfied with the absolutely free decoration space here. When he saw the empty wall in the hall, he was almost admiring: "If I could have this place, I would never waste space like you. There Could make a big bookcase, Gretel!"

"Not everyone is like you, nerd."

"I'm not a nerd," His Royal Highness Prince Slytherin raised his pale chin proudly, "and I will have this place in the future."

"I'm not dead yet, so I can't wait to try to usurp the throne?"

Scorpius sneered at Draco with his back, and took off his coat on his own—he knew that in the days to come, Draco would have a dormitory for the chairman of the male student union in addition to the prefect's dormitory. He even brought a huge balcony... and after a few years, he would even occupy Professor Snape's office, and then fill it with unscrupulously Professor Snape would definitely snort when he saw it, and couldn't sleep well for three days All kinds of gorgeous decorations - oh, for a Slytherin student, that is probably the most extreme display.

He took off his jacket and was only wearing a white shirt. Scorpius unbuttoned the collar and walked into the bathroom. Draco sat down on the sofa and stared at the senior student. Leitlin couldn't move his eyes from the swaying back under his eyes.

He didn't know what was wrong with him, when the senior Slytherin opened the bathroom door, and the relatively bright light from inside shone out, making his white shirt almost transparent and vaguely showing the outline of his waistline, Slater His Royal Highness Prince Lin slightly narrowed his silver-gray eyes...

Draco thought the guy had a really thin waist compared to Flint's sixth graders.

He had no doubts that if he was in the sixth grade like him now, he would be able to wrap that waist around his arms and fix it in his arms easily.

"..."

The expression on his face twitched a bit richly, and when there was the sound of running water in the bathroom, His Royal Highness Prince Slytherin sighed with a stiff face—he felt that there was something wrong with him, so he grumbled You must follow this senior Slytherin into his dormitory, and then stare at his waist like a pervert.

...Ah, speaking of which, his butt is also in good shape, fleshy, a little upturned, but not too big.

"Oh, God."

Sighing in despair, Draco covered his forehead and fell on the sofa speechlessly, frowned fiercely and turned over - now he has no doubt that he might be really sick, otherwise... ...He shouldn't have such a rich imagination, Merlin's socks, he is only in the second grade, even his father hasn't decided whether to let him complete the adult ceremony this Christmas, but he himself can't wait up.

It was like running through a large group of trolls and a cage of chattering elves in his head. When he took a deep breath and found that the breath of the senior Slytherin was all around him, Draco found that his headache was even worse It's gone—he curled up and nestled himself on the soft sofa like a bug, and at this moment, he seemed to hear a familiar voice again...

The sound had troubled him for a long time.

Like something rustling through the water pipe, it may be a creature with some kind of slime, when its soft belly rubbed against the metal of the water pipe and moved forward, it opened its mouth unceremoniously to breathe, swish After the swishing sound... there seemed to be a "hissing" sound like a snake spitting out a letter——

It sounded like someone was whispering in his ear.

But the voice quickly distorted - the moment they disappeared, Draco heard his heart pounding, and his stomach sank sharply, and he wanted to struggle to sit up and find the tall man in the bathroom. Year Slytherin talking - or doing something - anyway he didn't want to be left here alone, alone with what was about to pop into his head...

"Oh, damn it."

The platinum noble lying on the sofa huddled himself tightly. He wanted to leave but couldn't move at all. The strength in his body seemed to be drained at this moment, and his eyelids were heavy as hell... that's true. It was too scary, as if something forced his own memory into his mind. When the sound of the snake spitting out the letter disappeared, everything around him became dark, and the warm and dry prefect dormitory disappeared. , replaced by the damp and cold water vapor around; the soft sofa disappeared, replaced by cold bluestone bricks covered with moss...

The surrounding light became dim, and there seemed to be countless people holding torches and clamoring for something. Draco forced his chest to rise and fall, but what he breathed in was the bloody breath of the lung itself—— The people who appeared wore clothes that were popular in the last century, and they were talking about something Draco didn't know, but he knew that he was very close to death at this moment——

Death's scythe was already hanging high around his neck.

Draco seemed to hear those people communicating in a language he didn't understand, and there were some French words vaguely embedded in them, which probably meant "burn to death" or something... burn to death — Burn who?But I didn't do anything! ——

"Do not……"

The feeling of wanting to shout, but the voice coming out of my throat is terribly hoarse, it's a hopeless feeling, Draco thought, why do I have to go through this?

The headache became more and more intense, as if two people were grabbing his head and trying to separate his head, and the breath of dying in the humid air around him almost forced him to die. Crazy, his pale hands resting on the cold bluestone floor, unable to bring himself to stand up and pull out his wand to save himself—

Just at this time.

Draco suddenly felt a warm, soft hand grab his arm.

"Draco?"

In the cold and damp despair around, the warmth from the opponent's palm made Draco feel for a moment that he had met Merlin or the real savior - the man whispered his name softly, when Draco heard himself When he gave his name, he almost felt that he was hooked up by a hook, and all the bloody internal organs fell back to their original position at this moment and then started to function well...

"Draco? What's wrong with you?...I just went to put some hot water for you, why did you curl up on the sofa and sleep on your own-oh, the bed is over there, you will catch a cold even more serious."

Amidst the senior Slytherin's endless complaints, the eyeballs under the eyelids of the platinum aristocrat curled up on the sofa suddenly rolled down, and then he slowly opened them... For a moment, those silver-gray pupils still seemed A little confused.

Scorpius looked at the platinum aristocrat who was lying on the sofa and looked at him in confusion - at this moment Draco looked as if he had just been fished out of the water, the forehead Cold sweat made his usual meticulous platinum blonde hair stick to it messily, and his shirt was also soaked, as soon as he touched it, he could feel the cold sweat blowing in the air, and it seemed a little hot against the other party at this moment unusual body.

Draco blinked, looking relieved when his eyes came into focus and he realized where he was - getting off the couch looking a bit exhausted with the help of the senior Slytherin beside him Sitting up, before the other party had time to ask him something, he said in a dull tone: "It's nothing, it's just a nightmare."

Lucius once told him that everyone seems to have a variety of reactions when the bloodline is awakened - auditory hallucinations, hallucinations, or wrong transfiguration or temporary loss of magic power are also very likely, but none of them The exception is that everyone in the Malfoy family inherits the memories of their ancestors before their death.

When you find yourself almost dead in your dreams one day, you can almost be sure that you have put your foot in the door to the true Malfoy bloodline.

This is probably something to be proud of.

But at this moment, Draco couldn't be happy anyway—he didn't know which Malfoy he dreamed just now was the memory before his death, but the feeling of death was so realistic that it made him Now there is a sense of collapse that escaped death.

"——The water is ready, you go to the bubble bath to wash off the sweat on your body, and I will find for you whether there is any potion for reducing fever here."

Seeing the abnormal silence of the platinum nobleman in front of him, Scorpius realized that something must have happened—but Draco always had a lot of secrets, so he didn't talk too much to get to the bottom of it... almost half-heartedly He dragged the second-year Slytherin up on the couch, seemingly unconcerned that his shirt was wet with sweat—in fact, the position separated their skin almost two thin sheets. The fabric fits tightly together.

Putting the platinum nobleman in his arms next to the bathtub like a big rag doll, seeing the other party's completely absent-minded appearance, Scorpius pursed his lips——

"Lift your chin."

When Draco subconsciously lifted his chin slightly at his command, he reached out and unbuttoned his shirt unceremoniously.

"Raise your arms."

As Draco raised his arms slightly, Scorpius ripped the wet and cold shirt off his entire body.

"Do you want me to help you take off your pants?"

"No need." Draco muttered.

"You're a really tough kid when you're sick," Scorpius said, watching Draco slowly take off his pants, "Of course, it doesn't mean you're not usually tough, it's just that In comparison, the combat effectiveness seems to have been raised to another level."

"Oh, Gretel, I heard from Flint that you still want to be a healer in the future... St. Mungo's will go out of business for an impatient fellow like you - for God's sake By the way, I remember that the Malfoys still have shares in St. Mungo's." Draco muttered, kicking his school uniform pants aside, he complained, but actually took a breath almost greedily to feel The smell of hot water coming out of the bathtub, and then he almost subconsciously put his hand on the edge of his underwear, and when he was about to take it off, Prince Slytherin seemed to remember something——

stopped abruptly.

The bathroom seemed a little too quiet for a while.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, raised his head and glanced expressionlessly at the senior Slytherin who was still standing beside him and refused to leave—as expected, this guy was standing there with his hips akimbo and staring back at him confidently.

"Look at what?" Scorpius asked.

"I'm getting naked," Draco said.

Scorpius nodded, and then said, "You should take it off."

Draco raised his eyebrows: "You are here, how do I take it off?"

"Is there anything you can't take off, which part of your body I—" Scorpius wanted to say, "I haven't seen any part of your body", but after thinking about it, it seems that there is something wrong with saying it now, so he paused , Swallowed back what he had said, and then said, "Is there something on your body that I don't have?"

Draco hesitated for three seconds.

In the fourth second, he seemed to admit the existence of this hooligan, and he had no choice but to withdraw the last piece of fig leaf on his body—it felt too strange to be stuck to his body with sweat-soaked underwear, not to mention that he couldn't take a bath in it , that's disgusting.

A second-year Slytherin who could be counted as just beginning to grow, with thinning hair on his lower body, that symbol that every male has is quietly dormant between his legs at this time - well, it's hard to imagine that The cute little thing will become like that... that...

Thinking of this, Scorpius almost couldn't help smacking his tongue from the corner of his lips, and then... he was kicked out by the enraged Prince Slytherin.