“ItkeptmefromgivingintotheterrorthattheDementorswantedmetofeel.ButthemoreIdidit,theeasieritgot,andtheharderitwastoomebak.”
Hiseyestraethemaponemore,downtothedungeons,andontheribbonthatreadsHarryPotter.
“YourememberthestateIwasinwhenIfirstgotoutofthatpe.”
Thebedshifts,andDraoanimaginePotternodding.
“Butitgotbetter,didn’tit?ItbeamelessfrequentthestfewtimesIwenttotheManor.”
“Mm,”Draosaysinreply.“Mymothersaysitmightbearepse.”
“Why?”
DraoreallshissummerdaysintheManor.Hereallsthehappinesshefelt,thefrighteningunfamiliarityofitafterallthosemonths—afterhewasgiventheMark,hismission,andthatsoul-grippingfearofwhattheDarkLordmightdotohisfamilyshouldhefail.Andhereallsthinkingthen,thattheworldisn’tsuhabadonetowakeupto,ifhewokeuptobananapanakesandbright,greeneyes.
Andthenhereallsthefollowingweeksafter.
Potterwithhisfriends,alwaysinthedistane,alwaysontheothersideoftheroom,hisgreeneyesnowlookingelsewhere.
Draoknowswhy.Buthe’snotgoingtotellPotterthat.
“Ihavenoidea,Potter.”
“Ishouldgo,”Pottersays,sittingupwithasigh.“Ronwillbeworried.”
Draonodsmutely,beausehe’snotabouttodosomethingstupidlikeaskPottertostay.Thethrobbinginhisheadhadlessenedtoadullthrob,andsohetriestositbakupagain.
Potterisarranginghisrobesaslyashean,beforehetakesouthiswandagain,tapstheMap,andsays,“Mishiefmanaged.”
Theinkdisappearsinaheartbeatandthepaperfoldsitselfonemore.Potterpoketsittogetherwithhiswand.HerossestheroomtogettheInvisibilityCloakonGoyle’sbed,andthenpauses.HeturnstolookatDrao.Hiseyebrowsarereasedwithworry.“Youokay,Malfoy?”
Draodoesn’tknowhowtoanswerthat,buthenodsanyway.Hewillbe.
Potterdoesn’tlookassured,buthenodsbakandwalkstowardsthedoor.Heholdstheloakopen.Andthenhesighs.HeturnsbaktoDrao,openshismouthasiftosaysomething,butdeidesagainstit.Heloseshismouthagain.Instead,hesayswithasmallsmile,“Seeyoutomorrow,then.”
Thewordsareoutofhislipsbeforeheanstopthem.“ebak.”
Potterlookssurprised.
Draoalreadyhateshimself.He’snotsupposedtobedoingthis.“Tomorrow.ebaktomorrow,Imean.”Hisheart’sbeatingloudlyinhishest,andheswallows,triestosteadyhisvoie.“Youhavethatloakofyours.”
Andhedoesn’tknowwhatitisthathesaid,butPotter’ssmiling,andgod,itsukshowmuhhe’dmissedthatsmile.Hisheadstillhurts,buthefindshimselfsmilingbakanyway.
“Okay.Afterdinner.”
Potterleaves,andDraothinks,No.No,no,no,no,no.
Chapter3
Atbreakfasttheday,Harryisbaktoshamelesslyseekingoutthatblondhair.He’srelievedtoseeDraoattheSlytherintable,lookingwellandtalkingwithsomeoftheseventhyears.He’ssoengrossedthathedoesn’tnotiethegirlbehindhim,notuntilRonelbowshimquiteharshlyinthestomah.
“Oof!”heexims,atthesametimeaquiet,liltingvoiesays,“Harry?”
HarryompletelyfetsaboutgringatRonandwhipsaroundinsurprise.
Agirl,tallandwithbrownhairfallingdowntoherwaistinsofturls,looksathimnervously.Aroundthem,thepeoplearestartingtowhisper,wathingwithbatedbreathandwwhyaSlytherinwouldtalktoHarryPotter.
“Hi,I’mAstoria.”
Harryknows.HegresatthefourthyearRavenwsontheothertablewhisperingjustatadbittooloudly.Withasigh,heturnsbaktoAstoria.“Hi,Astoria.You’reDaphne’ssister.”
Astoriarexes,knowingthatshedoesn’thavetointrodueherselfafterall.“Yes.”ShegnesatHarry’salreadyemptypte.“Ifit’salright,anItalkwithyou?”
HegnesatRonbesidehim,whojustshrugsbeforereturningtohisbreakfast,andthenatHermionearossfromhim,whosmilesatAstoriaingreeting,beforeturningtoHarryandnudgingherhintowardsthedoor.“Goon,then.We’llsaveyouaseatinProfessorSlughorn’sss.”
Harrysmilesathergratefully.Hestandsupandmotionstowardsthedoor.Therearetoomanypeoplewathinghere.Hehatesit.“Mindifwetakeawalk?”
Harryalreadyknowswhatthey’regoingtotalkabout.Theywalkouttowardstheentraneourtyard,buttherearestillstudentsmillingaround,killingtimebeforetheirfirstss,andsotheywalktowardstheboathouseinstead.
Astoriaploughsonwithoutpreamble.“Draotoldmeaboutwhathappenedstnight.”
Harrydoesn’tknowwhattofeelwiththeknowledgeofDraoandAstoriabeingloseenoughthatsheanallhimbyhisfirstnameandthathehadalreadytoldherofwhathadtranspiredstnight.“Oh.”
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