Narissablinksslowlyathim,surprised.“I…Areyousure,Harry?”

No,buthe’sbeomingmoresureashesaysit.Thedeisionsettlesinhishest,omfortableandright.“Iam.”Then,hehastilyadds,“Ifit’snottooimposing.”

Narissagiveshimanothersmile,andit’salittlerelieved,andreal.“Nonsense,Harry.We’retheonesimposing.”

ThetimethatHarryomestotheManor,itisaweekafterDraowasreleased.NarissaisinSotnd.Therearepanakesonthetable,overedwithtemperaturespells,andtwosetsofptesandutlery.ThereisalsoanoteinNarissa’seleganthandwriting,tellinghimtopleasehelphimself.

Itis8inthem,butDraoisalreadyinhiswheelhair,eyesstaringdistantlyintothegarden.

Heislookingfullernow,morealive.Hisheekshavefilledandtheolourisomingbaktohisskin.Inexpliably,Harryissuddenlyvery,veryrelievedthatDraoisn’tindisposedenoughthathean’teat.Narissahastoldhim,throughthelettersthattheyhavestartedtoexhange,thatDrao’sspendingmoreandmoretimepresentwithhertely.

HishairshineswiththebrightmsunandHarryresiststheurgetotouh.

HesitsdownonthehairarossDraoandletstheweirdnessandtheoverallawkwardnessofthesituationsinkinandsettle.Thisisthefirsttimehe’sherewithoutNarissatotalkto,justhimandDrao,who’surrentlyawakebutisoffinsomeotherworldinhishead.

DraoMalfoy.FromSlytherin.

WholiedtotheDeathEaterstosaveyou.

Whenheloseshiseyes,heanstillremembertheheatofthefmesofFiendfyrelikinghislothes.Draosreaming“DON’TKILLHIM”andthetightgripthatDraohadonhiswaistastheyflewaboveandoutoftheinferno.

Thatwasn’tthegripofsomeonewhowantedtoserveVoldemort.

Thatwasjustthegripofsomeonewhowantedtostayalive.

Heturnsaway,fromDrao’ssofthairandthememoriesoffire.

Hepiksuphisfork,takesapanakefromtheservingpte,andletsitploponhisown.

“Potter.”

Hisforkdropsinsurprise.Flushing,helooksup.“Malfoy.”

“You’re…”Malfoysquints.

Harryshrugsnervously.Hefeelslikehe’sjustbeenaughtdoingsomethinghewasn’tsupposedtobedoing.Hesupposesthatitisweirdtosuddenlywakeupandhaveyourlong-timeenemyinyourhouseeatingyourpanakes.“Yeah.”

HarryseesthemomentthatDraoonfirmsthathereallyisindeedHarryPotter.

Draoslowlygnesouttowardsthegarden.“IsthistheManor?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

Andit’sthisoionagainandHarry’stense,wifwhathappenedbeforewillrepeatitself.Narissaisn’theretohelphimanymoreandHarrywouldn’tknowwhattodo.

Butthistime,Draoseemstoreonilewhathe’sseeingwithwhatever’sinhishead,andhevisiblyrexes,leaningbakonhiswheelhair.“etoobservemeinmymiserythen?”

AndHarryrealizesthatDraoremembershim,remembersalotmoreabouthim,ifhe’sgoingtogobaktooldhabitsandhisusualsnark.Hefeelsunbearablyhappyatthat.

“No,Malfoy,I’mjustheretoeatyourpanakes.”

Draofurrowshiseyebrowsathim,andthenatthepanakesonthetable.Ittakesawhileforhimtorespond,buthiseyeslearandhesays,“Getyourfilthyfingersoffmypanakes.”

“Well,you’renoteatingthem.”

Drao,ashehasalwaysdone,respondstothehallenge.Heliftsahand,reahestowardsthetable.It’sslow,buthispalmmanagestondonthefork.HisfingersshakeandHarryuands,withanotherpanginhishest,thatit’sprobablybeenawhilesineDraousedhislimbs.

Hedoesn’tthinkhishelpwillbewelome,butit’sbetterthanwathingDraostrugglelikethis,andHarrylooksup,butthewordsdieonhislipswhenheseesDrao’sgazeisvaantagain.He’snotmovinganymore.

Allofasudden,thenowfamiliarsenseofdespairtakesholdofhimandmakeshisfingersold.Hiseyesarerapidlybeomingwarmandheblinkstokeepthematbay.Aswallowpushesdownthelumpinhisthroatandadeepbreatheasesthepaininhishest,justabit.

DraoMalfoyisn’tsupposedtolooklikethis.

He’snotsupposedtobelikethis.

Withanotherdeep,shakyinhale,HarrystepsforwardandarrangesDraobakinhishair.

HeremovesDrao’shandfromthefork,andDrao’sfingersarelongandsofttothetouh,butthey’reold,andHarryrubsthemwithhisowntobringthebloodbakintothem.Nevermindthatit’shisfirsttimetouhingDraoMalfoy’shandsinethathandshakeduringfirstyear.Hishandhadbeensmallthen.Smooth,likeithadneverdoneaday’sworkinhislife.

Hishand’sbiggernow,ofourse,butit’salloused,andthenailsarebittentotheedge,orsraped,orwhateveritisthatDraodidwiththeminthosethreemonthsinhisell.

HelooksattheuntouhedpanakesandwondersifDraowillgetangryifheutsthemupforhim.

Heutsthemupanyway,beausehewantstoseeDraoangry.

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