“Fukyou,”Draosays,andthenhepiksuphisbagandhisbookandisgonebeforeHarryanmakeanothermove.
WhenHarrysinksdowntoHermioneontheouhinfrontofthefirepe,shetakesonelookathimanddoestheunthinkable:putsdownherquillandlosesherbook.
“Oh,Harry,”shesays.
Atthesoundofhervoie,heslumps.Hepropshiselbowsonhiskneesandhisfaeinhishands.HeanstilltasteDrao.Heanstillhearhisvoie,strippedraw,anstillseethedesperatelyfearfulexpressionhe’dwornashe’dshovedHarryaway.
Harryhaddonethistohim.
“IknowwhoMalfoy’sinlovewith,”Harrymumbles.“Didyouknow?”
“Isuspeted.”
“Isitpossible—”Harry’svoiewavers;hehastolearhisthroatandstartagain.“Isitpossibleforthevitimtostaysikeveniftheirloveisreturned?”
“Itdependsontheperson.Butinaaselikethat,”Hermionesays,gently,“eithertheloveisn’ttrueorthevitimdoesn’tthinkitis.”
Soeitherofusouldberight,Harrythinks.Figures.
Thatnight,HarrydreamsheissixteenagainandsshingDrao’shestopenwithastolenspell.Inthedream,unlikeinhismemory,heknowswhatthespelldoesandusesitanyway.Hewakesoverandover,sweating,buteahtimehefallsbakasleepthesightofDraobleedingoutonabathroomflooriswaitingforhim.Hewakesforthesttimearounddawnandpushesawayfromhisbedasifithadwrongedhim.
ShmakeshimfeeliallybetteruntilhegoestotheGreatHallforbreakfast.DraoleansagainstPansy,slumped,asifhean’tsitupwithoutthesupport.Darksmudgesofpurplefromkofsleepundersorehiseyes,andheoughsoutpetalsbeforeandaftereverymouthfulofteahemanagestoforedown.Hedoesn’teat.Hedoesn’tlookatHarryoraknowledgehisexisteneinanyway.AndwhenHarryapproahes,heheaveshimselftohisfeetandfleestheHallbeforeHarryevengetslose.
Harrymovestofollow,butPansyandBiseZabiniblokhimfromthedoors.
“Don’teventhinkaboutit,Potter,”shespits.“You’vedoneenough
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