AndDraoutshimoff,beausehe’sreadyforthis,he’sbeenreadywiththesewordsforsolong,andhejustneedstotry,onesttime.“I’mnotsomeoneyoushouldbefriendswith,Potter.”

“Malfoy.”Pottersays,likeawarning.“You’restartingwiththatrapagain.”

“It’snotrap,”Draoaffirms.Heanfeelthewellofemotionsrisingupagain,theshame,theguilt,andtheneedtoesapefromit,andit’smakingtheedgesofhisvisiongodark.Heinhalessharply,strugglestokeephimselfhere.“It’s…Peopleareobviouslygoingtotalk,youknow.Thisisn’tgoingtobethesttime,andthere’sreallynothingelsethattheyansayaboutmethathasn’talreadybeensaid,butyou—you’regoingtogettheworstofit.HarryPotterbeingfriendswithanex-DeathEater,someonewho’salittleinsane—”

Ahandlosesaroundhisfingers,gripsthemtightandfirm.Draopullshimselfbak,fightshiswaybakfromtheomfortabledarknessinhishead,towardsthegrounding,exhiratingrealityofthehandholdinghis.

Whenhereturns,ompletelyreturns,Potter’ssittingonhisbed,stillholdinghishand,andlookingstraightathim.

“Idon’treallyareaboutwhatHarryPotterthosepeopleareimagining,”Potterismurmuring.“ThisHarryPotterwantstobefriendswiththatex-DeathEater,someonewho’salittleinsane.”

Draohukles,smilesathimweakly.“Sazar,Potter,youdidn’thavetoagreewiththeinsanepart.”

Pottersmilesbakathim.“Yourwords,notmine.Andlook.Youfoughtitoff,didn’tyou?”

Hedid.Hedid.Andhedoesn’tknowifit’sbeauseit’sthefirsttimehe’smanagedtostophimselffromfallingintherabbitholehismindhasmade,orifit’sbeauseoftheprideinPotter’seyesashelooksathim,orPotterwantingtostaywithhim,thathefindshiseyesbeomingwarm.

“Yeah.”Hisvoieisshaking.“Thanks.”

Potterstillhasn’tletgoofhishand.“Wellthen,hasitonvinedyou?”

It’smakingDraohaveahardtimeorating.“What?”

“Havethelettersonvinedyoutoleavemealone?”

AndPotter’stoolose,toonear,andthereisatraitoroushoperawlinguphisstomahandswellinginhishestatPotter’sproximity,hiswords,thewayhe’slookingathim.“No.”

“I’mgd.”There’sarinkleattheornerofPotter’seyeswhenhesmiles,andDraohatesit,asmuhashehatesthewayPotter’sthumbisslowlytraingirlesagainsthispalm.ThereispinkPotter’sheeksandhehatesthat,too.“I,err,IsupposethisisagoodtimetotellyouthatIdon’thaveexatlyiiionsin,uhm,beingfriendswithyou.”

Andit’slikeablowtothehest.Draoughs,stunnedandbreathless,andhedukshishead,triestostopthewelloftearsfromfalling.

“Stop.Stop,”hesays,voietrembling.“Youdon’tgettosayitfirst.”

Thethumbstops.ThereisonfusioninPotter’svoie.“What?”

DraogripsPotter’shandbak.Itfeelsright,Potter’shandinhis.“Givemeamoment,”hesays,andit’salmostaplea.Hedoesn’twanttheirfirstkisstotasteliketears.Hetakesadeep,shakyinhale,andmustersthee.“GivemeamomentandthenI’llkissyou.”

Asharpintakeofbreath.Andthenanausatory“…Youdon’tsaythatandexpetmetowaitamoment.”

AndDraoughsagain,giddyandwarm,andhewipeshiseyeswithhisotherhand,theonehitbythehex,anditstillhurts,thatone,butit’snothingomparedtofinally,finallygettingthis.

“Goddamn,Potter,youreallyhavenopatiene.”

AndheswallowsallthehesitationdownhisthroatandpullsPotterdownforakiss.

DearHarry,

sidermesurprisedtoseeapitureofyouandmysoninanalleywayinHogsmeade.

Iamwritingtospareyouthesufferingofwaboutmythoughtsonthematter.

Iwouldloveitifyououldjoinusfortheholidays.

Love,

Narissa

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