HetakesHarry’ssileneasayes.Hesighs,staresatthefloor.“Man,Istilldon’tlikehim,but.Ian’tsayI’mhappyaboutwhathappenedtohim.”

Thistime,Harryloseshiseyes,andletsMalfoy’stremblingshouldersappearbehindhiseyelids.“Yeah.”

“D’yourekonhe’llomebaktoHogwarts?”

“Idon’tknow.Ithinkit…itdepends.”

Ronnods,uandswhathedoesn’tsay.“Mrs.Malfoywroteforustotellyouthatyouanomebak.”

Harrynods,shamemakinghisheeksburnathowhejustsimplyturnedtailandranfromtheManor.“Thanks,Ron.”

“You’reomingbak,aren’tyou?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright.”Ronlookslikehestillwantstosaysomething,andhealmostdoes.He’sstilllookingatthefloor,eyebrowsfurrowed,teethwhislowerlip,andhishandinaloosefist,butHarryseestheexatmomentwhenhedeidesnotto.“Alright,Harry.

“eon,”Ronsays,andhissmiledoesn’tquitereahhiseyes,beausehestilldoesn’tagreeaboutHarry’sobsessionoverDraoMalfoy,andHarrydoesn’tlikeithimselfeither,buthe’sstillthankfulthatRon’strying.

Ronstandsup,strethes,andgiveshimalittlegrin.“Aren’tyouhungry?”

Harryisn’t,notreally,buthegoesandeatsasifheisanyway.

Hermione’sinAustralia,reaquaintingherparentswiththedaughtertheyfottheyhad.

HarryandRonareworried.Herletterstalkaboutthingsthatareokay(herparentsareingoodhealth,theyknowwhosheisnow),butavoidstalkingaboutthethingsthatarenot(whytheyhaven’tomebaktoEngndyet,andhowmuhdoherparentsknow?Howmuhoftheirmemorieswerereturned?).Theyknowshe’spurposefullykeepingitfromthem,beausethey’reallgoingthroughsomething,andthestthingshewantstodoistoaddtothat.

Ithasbeenthreemonthssinetheystsawher,andit’slikesomething’smissingwhenshe’snothere.Theybothwanttoseeher,butHarryknowsthatRonwantsthatinawaythat’sdifferent.

Heknowsthatsomethinghappenedduring…well,during,andthat’swhattheytalkaboutwhileeatingMolly’sroastbeefandmashedpotatoes.

It’sbeenthreemonthssinetheendofthewar,sinewhateverhappenedbetweenRonandHermionehappened,butit’sthefirsttimeHarryhasasked,mainlybeauseitdidn’tseemtherighttimethentotalkaboutsuhthingswhenFred’sdeadandRemus’deadandtheyhadtoarrangeallthosefunerals.

After,whenHarry’sbakinbedandRon’sgoneandKreaher’sleanedalltheptes,HarrythinkstohimselfthatmaybewhyRonisn’tangryathimforbusyinghimselfwithMalfoysomuhisbeauseheuandswhatit’slikeforallyourthoughtsandattentiontobeonsumedbyoneperson.

Harrydoesn’tknowyetifhelikesthatparallel.

RonandHermione.

Himand…

Hesuumbstosleepbeforeheanfinishverbalizingthatthought.

Harryvisitsthem.

Malfoy’sgazeisbnkagain,andHarryexpetedthat,butthatstilldoesn’tstopthewellofdisappoiinthepitofhisstomah.

“Heomesandgoes,”Narissasayssoftlyfrombesidehim.Hergazetowardshersonissad.“It’sepisodi.Thehealerssayit’saformofdisassoiation,hismind’swayofgettingthroughthetraumaofAzkabanandbeingsoneartheDementors.”

Harryreallswhatitfeelslike.Thesinkingfeelingofdreadanddeath,allthewarmthseepingoutfromhisfiips,asifthebloodinhisveinsisslowlyturningtoie.Heholdshisbreath,saredtoask.“Didthey…”

Narissashakesherheadfirmly.“No,butItakeityou’veseenaDementorbefore?”

WasalmostKissedbyone,Harrythinks,butkeepsittohimself.“Yes,Ihave.”

“Thenyouknowwhatitfeelslike.Andtogothroughitagainandagain,everyday,forthreemonths.”

Harryfeelssikjustthinkingaboutit.

Lettingoutasoftsigh,NarissasitsdownononehairandwavesahandforHarrytositontheother.

Hedoes,arossfromDrao,who’sawake,breathing,buthisgazeisdistantyetagain.Hiswhiteblondhairswayswiththewind,andhishandsarepedontopofeahotheronhisp.Helooksalmost…gentle.

Narissafollowshisgaze.“Iapologizefortheothernight,Mr.Potter.”

“Harry,”Harryutsin.MisterPotteristooformal,tooremioftheiroldretionship,espeiallyinthishouse.“Andno.Youdon’thavetoapologizeforthat.”

Narissalooksathiminsurprise,andit’slearthatshedidnotexpetthat.Butasmileslowlyappearsonherfae,andit’swistful.“Thankyou,Harry.”

Thistime,sheshiftsinherseatsothatherbodyisfainghimompletely,asifsheisgivinghimherfullattention.Hergazeturnsserious.“Ian’tsayIuandwhyyoufeelresponsibilityovermyson.Rather,I’matuallyworriedaboutyou.”

Harrysitsupstraight,startledatwhatshe’sinsinuating.Thedefeneisimmediatelyonhislips.“Idon’t…Idon’tmeananyharm,”hesays,hurt.

“No,youmisuandme,”Narissarushestoassurehim.Sheshakesherhead.“Voldemort—”AndtheunflinhingwaythatNarissasayshisnamehasHarrywjustwheredidthiswomanhideallthise.“—isgone,andsoishisreignofterror,allbeauseofyou.You’reahero,Harry.Youanhaveeverythingyouwantanditwillbegiventoyou.Youanhoosetolivehoweveryouwant.erningyourselfoverDraois,Iuand,a…”Here,herlipspresstightlyagainsteahother,andthereisanexpressionofpainthatflittersarossherfae.“Ahindranetothat,perhaps?”

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