Ron’ssharpintakeofbreathonfirmsthathedoeslookawful.“Mate.”
Harryrubshisfaewithhishands,rubsthestikinessofthedriedtearsoffandontohisfingers.Hiseyeshurt.“Thatbad?”
“YoulooklikeGilderoyLokhart.”
Harrysnorts.“Thatbad,then.”
Hesighs,turningaroundandlyingbakdownonhisbed.Hishead’sthrobbing.“Howdidyouknow?”
“Malfoy’smumsentmymumanOwl.Saidshe’sworriedaboutyou.”
“That’s…awfullyfriendly.”
“Iknow.Mumouldn’tbelieveitatfirstyesterday,keptsayingatthestartthatMrs.Malfoy’sprobablypnningsomething,butMerlin,Harry,Ithinkmum’spnningtobakeapietosendover.Blueberrypies.Itsoundsridiulous,butIthinkwaboutyouismakingthemloser.”
“That’s…Well,that’sgood.Ithink.”
RongnesdownatHarry’sfae,beforesittingonthefootofthebed.“So.Malfoy’sbak,huh?”
HarryreallstheimageofMalfoysobbinginhiswheelhairandkeepshiseyesfirmlyontheeiling.“Yeah.”
“Howishe?”
“Notgood.”
“Mustn’tbe,ifyou’relikethis.”
Harrykeepsquiet.Ronknowshimbest.KnowshisobsessionwithMalfoybest,beausehewastheonewhowassoagainstitthathehadtogothroughtheproessoftryingtouandit.Harrydoesn’tknowwhatRononludedattheendofthatproess,butRonmusthaveonludedsomethingforhimtobesoalmaboutitnow.
Ormaybeit’sbeauseofthewar.
Thetwoofthemarebothquieternow,moreintrospetive.It’smoreobviousinRon,who’susuallythefirsttoblowuporgiveintohismoreexplosiveemotions.They’vefoughtoversomanythingsduringthewar,thatanyoftheirremainingdifferenesnowjustaren’timportantenoughtofightoveranymore.
Ronlooksathim.“Heisthereasonyou’relikethis,right?”
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