“ItkeptmefromgivingintotheterrorthattheDementorswantedmetofeel.ButthemoreIdidit,theeasieritgot,andtheharderitwastoomebak.”
Hiseyestraethemaponemore,downtothedungeons,andontheribbonthatreadsHarryPotter.
“YourememberthestateIwasinwhenIfirstgotoutofthatpe.”
Thebedshifts,andDraoanimaginePotternodding.
“Butitgotbetter,didn’tit?ItbeamelessfrequentthestfewtimesIwenttotheManor.”
“Mm,”Draosaysinreply.“Mymothersaysitmightbearepse.”
“Why?”
DraoreallshissummerdaysintheManor.Hereallsthehappinesshefelt,thefrighteningunfamiliarityofitafterallthosemonths—afterhewasgiventheMark,hismission,andthatsoul-grippingfearofwhattheDarkLordmightdotohisfamilyshouldhefail.Andhereallsthinkingthen,thattheworldisn’tsuhabadonetowakeupto,ifhewokeuptobananapanakesandbright,greeneyes.
Andthenhereallsthefollowingweeksafter.
Potterwithhisfriends,alwaysinthedistane,alwaysontheothersideoftheroom,hisgreeneyesnowlookingelsewhere.
Draoknowswhy.Buthe’snotgoingtotellPotterthat.
“Ihavenoidea,Potter.”
“Ishouldgo,”Pottersays,sittingupwithasigh.“Ronwillbeworried.”
Draonodsmutely,beausehe’snotabouttodosomethingstupidlikeaskPottertostay.Thethrobbinginhisheadhadlessenedtoadullthrob,andsohetriestositbakupagain.
Potterisarranginghisrobesaslyashean,beforehetakesouthiswandagain,tapstheMap,andsays,“Mishiefmanaged.”
Theinkdisappearsinaheartbeatandthepaperfoldsitselfonemore.Potterpoketsittogetherwithhiswand.HerossestheroomtogettheInvisibilityCloakonGoyle’sbed,andthenpauses.HeturnstolookatDrao.Hiseyebrowsarereasedwithworry.“Youokay,Malfoy?”
Draodoesn’tknowhowtoanswerthat,buthenodsanyway.Hewillbe.
Potterdoesn’tlookassured,buthenodsbakandwalkstowardsthedoor.Heholdstheloakopen.Andthenhesighs.HeturnsbaktoDrao,openshismouthasiftosaysomething,butdeidesagainstit.Heloseshismouthagain.Instead,hesayswithasmallsmile,“Seeyoutomorrow,then.”
Thewordsareoutofhislipsbeforeheanstopthem.“ebak.”
Potterlookssurprised.