ButthosearethemomentsthatHarrylooksforwardtothemost,humbledbythetrusthe’sbeinggiven.

DraotellshimaboutGoyleone.

HarrytellshimastoryabouttheMarauders.

(Heriesduringthatone.Hetalksandtalksandtalks,untilherealizeshe’sryingandhisvoieisn’tomingoutanymore,andhedoesn’tgettofinish,butDraoalreadyknowstheendinganyway.)

OnthenightthatNovemberends,Harryisloungingonhis—ithasn’tbeen‘Goyle’s’forawhilenow—bed,staringatthegreenurtainsfallingfromthebed’sanopy.Theolourisstartingtogrowonhim.Helikesitbestonpaleskin.

“SomethingthatAstoriasaiddisturbsme.ShesaidshethoughtImightnothavewantedtotalktoher,justbeauseshe’saSlytherin,”hestarts,re-imaginingthatpartiurmemory.

Draolooksupfromhistextbook,andtiltshisheadatthesuddentopi.Heislyingdownonhisbed,hishestonthemattress,inonlyhisreguruniformafterhavingthrownhisrobesoverthehair.Hishairistousledfromrollingoveronthebedsomuh,andHarry’sbeentryingnottolook(orstare)athim.

“We’renotexatlywell-liked,Potter.Youknowthatbest.”

Harrysmileswryly,reallingtheutterdislikeheusedtohaveforanybodywearinggreen.Then,hereallsDraointheManor,NarissaintheForest,andSnapeintheShriekingShak.“Ialsoknowbest,now,thatnoteverythingisassimpleasbkandwhite.”HegnesatDrao.“I’mstillalivebeauseofalotofSlytherins,youknow.”

OneedgeofDrao’slipsquirkupintoasmallsmile,asifhe’sstillamusedthatHarry’sstillglorifyingthem.“Thereneedstobeavilininanarrative.That’swhatwe’reherefor,”hemurmurs,eyestravelingtohislothedarm.“That’showthebaneworks.”

Harryfollowshiseyeswithhisownandtakesadeepbreath.“TheSHatwantedtoputmeinSlytherin.”

Immediately,Drao’sheadshootup.He’sstaringatHarryindisbelief.“What?”

Harrygrinsathim.“ItoldhimIdidn’twanttobeputhere.”

“Youanhoose?”

“Well,itisourhoiesthatmakeuswhoweare.”

“Don’tpretendtobewise,Potter.It’sunbeoming.”

Harryburstsintoughter.

Draoshakeshishead.“Ian’timagineyouasaSlytherin.”

“Really?Wewouldhavebeenroommates.”

“Yeah.Wewouldhave.”

“Wemightnothavemadeitthroughfirstyear.Youwereaninsufferablegitbakthen.”

“I…”Draostarts,andthenpauses.Hehuffs.“AmInotanymore?”

AndHarryhearsthehiddenquestionandsmilesathim.“Less.”

Drao’sheeksarepink.Hestandsup,takeshisrobesfromthebakofhishair,andunfoldsit.“Tryonmylothes.”

It’saommand,notarequest,andHarrystandsupeagerly.Ifhe’sbeinghowithhimself,hejustlikesthethoughtofthemtryingoneahother’slothes.Heshrugsoffhisownrobes,andputsontheofferedoneslowly.

ItsmellslikeDrao.Likehandreamandpeppermint.

Heswallowsthikly,andlooksuptoommentthatthey’reabittight,butDraoisstaringathim,stunnedandspeehless.

Harryfeelshisownfaeheatingup.

“Itlooks…nieonyou.”

“Beareful,Malfoy.Imightjustonsiderthataompliment.”

He’sflirting,heknows,butDraoseemstorealizewhathehadjustsaidandhisheeksgoredandHarryan’tresist.

Hegrabshisownrobesfromthebed,rossestheroom,pullsatDrao’sshouldertoturnhimaround,andan’thelpthebigsmilethatslidesitswaytohislipswhenDraosimplyletshim.

“Trymine.”

Draomakesafae.“Iabsolutelyan’timaginemyselfinGryffindor,”hesays,buthe’sraisinghisarms,lettingHarryslipthesleevesontothem.

“Meher.”

“Ian’timagineyouinSlytherin,either.”

“Really?I’mprettyunning.”Andhe’sturningDraoaroundagain,ompletelyawarethatDraoanputtherobesonhisown,buthe’slettinghim,andsoHarrytakeswhathe’sbeinggiven.

“ingisthestwordI’llthinktodesribeyouwith.”

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