But even Harry had to admit that Nagini was truly beautiful, especially her unusual dark lips, which gave her a unique, dangerous beauty.
"And you?"
"No, thank you!" Harry shook his head, his voice low. "We... are waiting for a friend."
"Alright," Nagini offered a faint smile, then turned and left.
"Damn... she... Harry, she's really beautiful," Draco said.
"Uh-huh," Harry nodded. "But... this lady... has her lover."
"Oh," Draco's exaggerated serpent mouth twitched agilely, suddenly losing interest.
His upbringing did not allow him to make unwarranted assumptions about a lady who already had someone in her heart.
That was too despicable—lowly, base, and subservient to simple desires!
Well, this was recorded by the son of Lucius I. Draco couldn't remember the ancestor's name.
But clearly, the reason that ancestor left such a precept was related to Lucius I's futile pursuit of Elizabeth I.
"You... drinking... messes things up... wait for death," Harry said concisely.
Draco chuckled twice: "Just trying... the taste."
He himself didn't want to make a fool of himself again, like before, singing rock songs he'd heard from Mr. Jones in the underground passage, grabbing a broom as a guitar, and making a complete spectacle of himself.
Recalling that day, Harry still regretted that Colin wasn't in Slytherin.
"Tequila..." Aberforth mumbled as he rummaged through the liquor cabinet behind him, then helplessly said aloud, "Nagini, help me get two bottles from the cellar... Oh, never mind, I'll go."
"Alright, sir," Nagini nodded. Aberforth had instructed her to only call him'sir' and not use his given name or surname.
With that, Aberforth walked out from behind the bar and went to the back storeroom.
"Please wait a moment," Nagini bowed slightly to Draco.
Although Aberforth had told her many times that she didn't need to be so respectful to these rascals here.
But her past still made Nagini's expressions a bit overly deferential when serving others.
"Shhh—" a frivolous whistle sounded.
"Where's the pretty lady from? What made you decide to work here?" a young man wrapped in bandages teased.
Around them, the patrons also showed expressions of anticipation, their eyes scanning him up and down with an invasive gaze.
"Cough, cough," Harry's cough interrupted him.
Suddenly, the entire pub fell silent...
"Quiet... down," he said softly. "Like a normal man."
"And not a rutting beast," Draco said blandly, completing the sentence.
"You seemed quite arrogant the last time you were here!" someone said maliciously, leaning against the wall and glaring at the two.
Harry did not acknowledge the person, only looked at Nagini.
He saw a familiar emotion in the lady's expression.
The suppressed indignation due to being dependent on others, due to not wanting to trouble those who were good to her, due to everything.
He was very familiar with this emotion...
Moreover, he also knew this lady's story.
"If you ask me, there's no future working for this old man. Why don't you come and join—"
The next moment, Harry suddenly drew his wand.
"Bombarda—"
The spell shot out abruptly, and before anyone could react, the fellow was sent flying backward, slamming into the wall, wounds blooming across his chest.
"You're a bit noisy," Harry stood up, slowly approaching.
The next moment, some of the surrounding patrons stood up.
"You want to be a trailblazer, do you?"
"Don't misunderstand," Harry said calmly. "I just hope that those who can't speak properly can generously donate their tongues."
"Are you worthy?" the man's gaze fixed on Harry. "You, who don't even dare to show your true face? Are you worthy?!"
"Want to try?" Harry tightened his grip on his wand.
"Wait!" Nagini tried to step forward to resolve the conflict, but was held back by Draco—a somewhat strained hold, as the beautiful lady's strength was rather frightening.
"I'll wait for you outside," the man said, then raised the cup of bitter wine called Mu En Jones and drank it in one gulp.
"First Mate?!" Draco was also somewhat startled, softly calling Harry's codename.
Harry's fingertips twitched... This time, it wasn't a test, not a bloody battle where death was guaranteed.
It was just...
"Try it!" Harry said.
Whether it was pity, or empathy, or even just because she was Uncle Howl's patient... anyway, Harry hoped to help this lady.
Not long after, various sounds, spell effects, and incantations intertwined outside the pub.
A moment later, Harry, with singed hair and a limp, returned to the pub.
"Now, does anyone want to donate their tongue?" he asked again.
Inside the pub, there was complete silence!
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