“Pansy.”Shedoesnotstandwhenhegreetsher,sohetakestheuefromherandsitswithoutanotherword.Thehairsreehesonthestonefloorwhenhepullsitbak,andwhenhelooksatthetable,itislearthattheyarenothereforasoialvisit.“Beautifulasalways.”
Shesoffsathim.Draodoesn’tgettousethewordoften,butsheembodieditatthatmoment,thewaythesoundamefromthebakofherthroatandndedonthetablebetweenthem,drippingwithderision.Itshouldhavebotheredhim,buthealsothinksthatsharpedgeswillbeeasiertodealwithtodaythansharpwords.Angerwasalwayseasiertotakethanhurt.
“Saveit.”Shelookshimupanddown,andlikealways,Draowonderswhatsheseesthere.Thisisnotlikeshool,whenshewouldhangontoeverywordhesaidjustbeausehisfathermademoneyandhismotheramefromtherightfamily.Shedidnothavetobenieinordertogethelpwithhomework,ormakesurethatshesmiledforpituresthatmightendupintheProphet.Despitebeingfriendsforaslongasheanremember(evenlongerthanCrabbeandGoyle,butthenthefireforoneandAzkabanforanother,wait,don’tthinklikethat,stopit),thismightbethefirsttimetheywereeverrealwitheahother.“Heardyou’vebeenrunningaroundwithPotter.”
Hewines,tightenshisfingersaroundaupwithnoteainitjusttohavesomethingtohold.HeknowsPansydidnotmissthemovement.“Ihave.”
“AndGranger.”
Hedoesn’tflinhthistime,beauseheknowsthatthisisthepriehemustpayifhewantstobeomefriendswithheragain.Buthewon’tapologizeforthis,either.“Hertoo.”Then,thinkingitmightbebettertobeompletelyho,headmitstotherestofit.“We’refriends,atually.I’mrunningaroundwithalotofpeoplewewouldn’thavetalkedto,bakatHogwarts.”
“Afriendofmudbloodsandtraitorsnow,arewe?”Hemusthavemadeafae,orflinhed,orsomething,beausesheughed,thesoundloudenoughtodrawstaresfromthetablearoundthem.Itwasn’tagoodidea,todrawstaresinapelikethis.“Rex.”Sheslumpsinherhair,andhean’thelpbutnotiehowprettyshewas,eventhoughhehadn’tthoughtaboutherlikethatforawhile.
(He’snotsureheeverthoughtaboutherlikethat.Maybe,hejustthoughtofitasaniablething,thattheywouldgettogetherintheend.StartdatingafterHogwarts,getengaged,havekidstoarryonthefamilylegay.Evenifitwouldn’thavebeenlove,theywouldhavebeenhappy.Happierthantheydeserved.)
“Wewerewrongaboutthatstuff.”Thiswasaruialtippingpointfortheafternoon,deidingifhewouldstayorleave.Hewouldnot,ouldnot,staywithherifsheontinuedtopreahtheoldways.Ifshewasstillfullofhate.Heknowsnowthatthereistoomuhpaininthisworldtoaddmoreonpurpose,justbeauseyouareafraidorlikeotherstobesmalljustsoyouanbebig.Hewon’tbepartofthatanymore.“Itdidn’tmakesense,whatourparentsweretellingus.”
“Iknow.”Sheraisedherupofteatoherlips,butheouldtellshewasn’tdrinking.DraohadheardthatalotoftheSlytherinsouldn’tdaregooutinpublianymore,whatwiththeirparents’faespsteredalloverthepapersandtheirnamesbeingshoutedfromeverynewsstation.Itwasn’tus,hewantedtosreamatthemall,whenhegotatrippingjinxshotathimorwhenhisfreshboughtgroerieswerespoiledwhenhegothome.Youan’tbmeusforwhatourparentsdid,it’snotfair,it’snotfair,didn’tyoujustfightforfreedom?“Toolittle,toote,right?”
Therimwaslinedwithdarklipstikwhenshebroughtitawayfromhermouth,andshefrownedatit,wipingitawaywithanapkinbeforeheouldstareatitfortoolong.Itmadehimsmile.Thathadalwaysbotheredherbakinshool,too.