Harryfrowns.Hehasn’tletgoofDrao’swristyet.Therearesomanythingshedoesn’tuand,whyDrao’slookinglikehe’sabouttopassoutanyminute,whyhe’sshingoutsomuh,andatthebakofhismind,attheverybakofhismind,thereisasmallvoiewhisperingtohimthatitalmostseemslikeDrao’s…jealous.
“Don’ttalkaboutherlikethat,”hesays,asalmlyasheantowillawaytheirritationstartingtoithunderhisskin.
Draosneers,andsuddenly,Harryishitwithasenseofsadnessthatit’sbeensuhalongtimesinehe’sseenDrao’sfaehoandopen,mouthurvedintoasmile,eyesshiningunderthebright,msun.HehatesthatDrao’ssoguarded.Again.Asifsummerneverhappened.Asifthosebananapanakessharedtogetherandwalksinthegardendidn’texist.
Hehatesthathe’sstillholdingontothem,likealovesikidiot.
“You’retheonewhowantedtotalk,Potter.”
Harrydropshiswrist,shakinghishead.Hegresbak,sowling.“Merlin,Malfoy,what’sgottenintoyou?Ijustwantedtoaskhowyou’redoing.”
“Great.Splendid.Now,willthatbeall?”Draoturnsaway,readytoleave.
“No,Malfoy—”
Draoturnshisheadbak,eyesburningwithanger,mouthurledintoasnarlashehisses:“Leavemealone.GofukWeasleyalready,ifyou’resodesperateforashag—”
Harrysmshisfistontherailing.Thengofmetalringsloudlyinthevalley,andthebridgeshakeswiththeforeofhisfist.Thereisthesoundofbloodrushinginhisearsandheislight-headedwithanger,atDraoforbeingsuhadik,andathimselfforstillbeingsoaffetedbyhim.
ThereisalookofshokonDrao’sfae,asifhehadn’texpetedHarrytogetsoangrylikethat,butHarrydoesn’tareanymore.IfDraowantstobeagit,thenfine.
Hegritshisteethandwalksaway,beforeheandoanythingelsethathemightregretter.“Idon’tevenknowwhyIkeeptrying.I’mdone,Malfoy.Ihopeyou’rehappy.”
Andheleaves,stompshiswaythroughthebridgeandbaktotheloktowerourtyard,handsshakingandheartbeatingfuriouslyinhishest.
Andbehindhim,hedoesn’tseeDraofalltothefloor,buryhisfaeinhishands,andmutterwithasad,shakyugh:
“Damnit,Potter.Whydidn’tyoupunhme?”
Chapter2
Draofloatsthen,fromonestateofonsiousnesstoanother.Oneminutehe’sthere,staringatthewoodenfloorofthebridge,knowingthathe’sdoingit,hisbody’sdoingit,hisowneyesaredoingit,andthehe’sinsomehaze,likesomebodyelseisstaringatthefloorandhe’sjustlookingthroughtheireyes.Andthenafterthat,itgoesbkallover,andhedoesn’tknowhowmuhtimepassesuntilthetimeheseestheflooragain,butit’sdarkernow,andinoneornerofhismind,itregistersthatoh,it’salreadynighttime.
There’sarakinthewood,andasmallspider,sosmallhe’ssurprisedithasn’tbeenblownawaybythewindyet,slipsthroughit.Hewondersifheanslipthroughit,too.
WhatdidhesaytoPotteragain?Potterwasmad.It’sbeenalongtimesinehestsawPotterthatangry.Hedoesn’tlikeit.Heneverdidlikeit.Butheouldstanditthen,yearsago,sowhydoesithurtsomuhnow?
Theyweretalkingaboutsomething.Agirl.Potter’sgirl.Oh.Weasley.
Hisvision’sstartingtogodimattheedgesagain.
It’llbenie,hesupposes.They’regoingtobuildthehappiestfamilyever.
Ithurts.
WhatdidhesaytoPotteragain?
It’sdark.DarkerthanAzkaban.
Azkabanatleasthadmoonlightshiningthroughthebars.
Butthisisdarker,pith-bk,alllightblokedbytheanopyoftreesabove.Hehearstherustleofleavesmorethanheseesthem,andhehearstheinessantbuzzingofis.SomethinghowlsaheadandDraowondersifthisisrealorifit’sjustinhisheadagain.
Heneedstoleave.Heknowshedoes.Healwaysknows.ButwithPottergone,it’sbeengettingharderandhardertogetoutofhishead.Hethoughthewasgettingbetter.
Butno,he’sjustgettingworse,andPotter’sangry,andhemissestheManor,andthegarden,andbreakfast,andPotter.
There’sanotherhowlthatsoundsandehoesaroundhim,andhedoesn’tknowwherehe’sgoing.Hethinkshe’swalking,he’snotsure,butit’sdarkhere,andPotter’snotaround.
Draowakesuptothesentofsweat,trealetart,andfreshsoap.He’sbeingarriedonsomeone’sbak,andheknowsimmediatelywhoitis.HisnoseisburiedinPotter’shairandhe’snotsureifthisisreal,buthefeelslikerying.
Hethinkshealreadyis.
Potterstops,pauses,andDraorealizesthatthey’restilloutsidetheastle.It’sstilldark,withonlythemoonandthelightfromthetowersilluminatingtheirsteps.Thewindisstillold,andtheirrobesbillowinthewind.Potter’sarryinghim,andhe’sprobablyheavy,butPotter’sgripunderhisthighsarefirm.
Pottersays,“I’msorry.Ididn’tmeanwhatIsaid.”
Drao’shavingahardtimeorating.Hedoesn’tuandwhatPotter’ssaying.
“I’mnotgoingtostoppesteringyou,Malfoy.Stoptryingtogetridofme.”
Thehukleisoutofhislipsbeforeheanstopit.StupidPotter.Stupid,annoyingPotterwhodoesn’tknowwhentogiveup.Thelittlebuggerjusthastosaveeveryone,eventhosethatdon’tdeserveit.“I’mmad,Potter.”
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