Angryisbetter.Anythingisbetterthanthis.
WhenDraoomestoagain,thepieesofpanakeonhisptehavegoneold.Harry’salreadyonhisthird.
“Wipethatsyrupoffyourfae,Potter,”isDrao’swayofgreetinghim.
Harrydoesitautomatially,outofshokandembarrassment.“You’rebak,”hestatesdumbly.
“Ididn’tleave,”Draomutters,gringathispte.Harrydoesn’tknowifDrao’sgringatitoutofspite,orifheremembersthatitwasn’tutupthirtyminutesagoandisnowtryingtoreallhowitgottothatstate.Finally,Draoraiseswearyeyesathimandasks,“Didyoujustsliemypanakes?”
Harryshovesmorepanakesinhismouth,justtosavehimtheawkwardnessoftalking.Henodswhilehewing.
Draogoesbaktogringatthepanakes,andHarryfinisheshisthirdpanakemehanially.Onehe’sdoneandthere’snothingleftonhispteforhimtostuffhismouthwith(andthere’snomoreexuseforhimtoshutup),hetries,“Doyouwantmetofeedyou?”
Hebraeshimself,readieshimselftostandupandrunshouldaforkomeforhishead,butDraojustsnortsandlooksathimpointedly.“Weasel’sgoingtohaveananeurysmfromughingtoomuhifhefindsoutthatyou’refeedingmebreakfast.”
Heraisesanarmandtriestourlhisfingersaroundtheforkagain.
It’sslowandit’sshaky,butDrao’sthereandhe’strying,soHarrygetsanotherpanakeandrespetfullylooksaway.
He’snotreallyhungryanymore.Infat,he’sfukingfull,buthelikesthis,eatingpanakeslikethis.Bythetimehe’sfinishedeatingthefourth,Draohasmanagedtoswallowthreepiees.There’ssyruponhispandthefrontofhisnightgown,andthere’salsosomedrippingdownhisarm,butHarryrespetfullylooksawayfromthat,too.
Draomakesitthroughhalfofhispte,beforetheforkslipsfromhisfingersandnksloudlyonthemarblefloorofhisbalony,andHarrylooksupathim,readytoaskifheshouldgetitforhim,butDrao’sgoneagain.
Hisgazeisvaant,staringbnklyathispte.
Harrystandsupbeforethesqueezingpaininhishestansettle,andhegoesaroundthetablesoheanpikuptheforknearDrao’sfeet.
Onhiswayup,hegnesatDrao’sfae.Thereisnoreognition,nolife,butthereissyrupattheornerofhismouth.
Harrysighsandreahesforanapkin.“You’retheonewhoshouldwipethesyrupoffyourfae,”hemuttersandgentlydabsatDrao’sheek.
It’sdefinitelyweird,takingareofDraoMalfoy.
Or,well,heisn’treallysupposedtobetakingareofDraoMalfoy.He’sjustreallyheretokeephimompany,avoidthemediawhilehe’satit,andeatthebreakfastthatMalfoydoesn’teat.
ButhewipesthesyrupoffofDrao’smouthanyway,andhisarm,andthensearhesforhiswandinhispokettoharmDrao’slotheslean.
“Whatdoyoumeanyoudidn’tleave?”HarryaskstwentyminutesterwhenDrao’sbakandthepanakesandthemessonthetablehaddisappearedwithapop.Twosteamingmugsofteahaverepedthem.