He’stakenwanderingaroundthehousewhenHarryisn’tthere.
Draoisn’tsurewhyhedoesit,otherthanthefatthatwithoutshoolorajoboranyresponsibilitieshe’sgothours’worthoffreetimeandnothingtofillitwith,unlessheatuallywantstotakeGrangeruponherofferofteahinghimhowtorohet.Kreaherhadbeentheonetostartit,showinghimroomsthatheouldn’tgetaroundtoleaningbeauseofhiskneesorthepesthathewon’tgoanymorebeausetheyholdtoomanymemories,andallofasuddenhewasrippingdownaperinbathroomsandwipingawaythedustthathaspiledupinthelibrary,likeheouldsrubawaythedarknessifheonlytriedhardenough.
Hefindsremnantsofthepastwheneverheleastexpetsit.That’spartofit,too,oneofthereasonsthathewantstotakethesewalksthroughthehouseandstikhisnoseinpesthatHarryftoutrefusedtoputfootin.He’sgatheredupknowledgelikethey’retreasure—ababyphotoofhisaunt,aletterfromhisfathertukedintoadrawer—butit’snotuntilhedarestopullhimselfupintotheattithatheuandswhyHarryseemstowanttofillthishouseupwithnoisesooften.
It’stohaseawaytheghosts.
AllDraohaddonewasmoveabox,andallofasuddenphotoswerepout,floodingthefloor,ahundredofthesamefaesfshingupathim,waving,sreaming.ThereisamuhyoungerProfessorLupinwithhisarmedaroundaleanshavenSiriusBk,amanwholookedlikeHarrywithhisarmedaroundsomeonewhohadHarry’seyes,ProfessorMoodywhenhestillhadbotheyes.Hethinksitisonlythedistantpast,atfirst,butthenheshiftsthroughsomemoreandfindsotherthings—NyphmadoraTonksholdingoutherhandwiththesmallesteringhehadeverseenonherfinger,GinnyandHermioneleaningintoeahothertoposeforthepiture,theWeasleyfamilygatheredaroundthetableassomeonewhomustbetheirmotheryellsatthem.Therearepeoplehedoesn’treognizeandpeoplehedoes—FredWeasley,GeeWeasley,Professors,Dumbledore,Hermione,andHarry,alwaysHarryattheenterofthings,happyandughing.
Alotofthesepeoplearedead,Hethinks,anditisnotforthefirsttimethatDraobeginstofullyappreiatehowyoungtheyallwere,howmuhtheyhadtolosejustayearago.Allthethingsthattheydidlose.Muhtooyoungtobesoldiers.
That’showHarryfindshim,sittingintheenterofaseaofphotographs,lookingatallthesefaesthatheknowsheoneknewbutannolongerreognize.DraolooksupathimlikeheislostandHarryishislighthouse,handsfullofmemories,photographsfulloftheurrentdeadanddying.
“Theydidn’tknowwhatwasgoingtohappen,”Hesaysfinally,afterHarryhassatdownarossfromhimandreahedforphotographsofhisown,solosethathiskneeswerepressedupagainstDrao’s.Theyhavegottentoaboxthatisjustfullofthetwins—thetwinstogetheratdinner,thetwinsintheirroom,thetwinsholdingouttheirhandstokeeptheirpiturefrombeingtaken,thetwinspyingexplodingsnapwithRon,thetwinsteamingupagainstBillforagameofExplodingSnap,allthetinymomentsthatpiledupwhiletheywerelivinghere.Whentheyweretogether,andsafe,andwhole.“Theydidn’tknowhowshortitwouldallbe.”
“Ginnytookmostofthese.”Harrywasrying,tearsslippingdownfromhisheeks.ThedeathofFredhadhithimthehardest.Theywereallhard,butitwasespeiallyawfultowaththeshokwavesthatthegriefsentthroughtheWeasleyfamily.“Herdadboughtthismuggleamerafromaporoid.Spentthewholesummersnappingpitures.”
“Youalllookedhappy.”Draohadalwaysboughtintohisfather’sideathathewasthelukyone,thatwhatittooktomakeagreatmanwasapoketfullofgoldandabighouse,abeautifulwifeandaresp
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