Still,itwasdifferentwhenitwasjustDrao,whereheouldmakeasmanymistakesashewantedwithoutanyonewathing,andheouldtakeupthewholekithen,anddidn’tfeestrangeaboutturningontheradiotoCelestinaWarbek.WhenHarrywashere,itwaslikehewasalwayswathing.Draofelthiseyesonhim,likeatiklerightbetweenhisshoulderbdes.
Hedoesn’taskhimwhyhewashere.Clearly,theoionofstnighthadnotbeendrunkennonsense,butsomethingthathehadbeenmullingoverforawhile.AndDraohadmeantit,whenhetoldhimthatmaybeitwastimehelearnedwhatitwasliketobejustHarry.Hewasn’tabouttohasehimoutofhisownkithen,inasethatstoppeditfromhappening.
TheystandinsileneuntilDraoissatisfiedthatthepanakesaredone,andthedolesthemoutontoptes,sittingdownarossthetablefromhim.He’salmostnervous,sittingthere,andheantellthatHarryistoo.
“Isentmyresignationoutwithmpost.”Harrytalksaroundamouthfuloffood,hidingbehindthepaper,likethatouldmakethislessimportant,lesslifealtering.“Shouldhavegotitbynow.”
Draodidn’treallyknowwhattodowiththat,butthesikpartofhiminthebakofhisheadthatwantedtokeepHarryalltohimselfmadehisbreathingath.Home.Safe.Mine.Butthat’swasn’tright.Harrywouldneverbesafe,thispewouldnotbeahomenomatterhowmuhDraoleanedit,andHarrywouldneverbelongtohim.Wouldneverwanttobelongtohim.
“Good.”Itwasameresponse.EverythingDraosaysisameresponse,withalltheserevetionsHarrykeepsdumpingonhim.“Haveanotherpanake.”
Harry
Hedoesn’tfeelguiltyaboutit,exatly.
Really.Thethoughtofnotwantingtobeanaurorourredtohimawhileago,beforeDraoevenametostay,ononeofthenightswherehewasreepingthroughhisownhome,lookingforbreakinsthatweren’tpossible.Hehadhekedtheloksthreetimes,hadKreahersenseoutanyintruderstwieandouldn’tstomahthethoughtofaskingagain.Andherealizedthatifthiskeptgoing,hewasgoingtoturnintothepersonMad-EyeMoodywasbeforetheseondwar,thekindthateveryonethoughtwasrazybeauseheouldnotlivewithoutthefight.
Harrydidn’twantthat.Hewantedtofindsomepeae,ifjustforalittlewhile.
ThethinghedoesfeelguiltyaboutisleavingRonbehind.Hehadtoldsenthimanowlstnightbeforethedrinkingstarted,tellinghimhewouldn’tbeintoworktomorrow.Thenheaskedifhewouldmeetforlunh,beausehewantedtotalkaboutsomethings.ButitturnsoutthatDraotookareofallthetalkingandwthroughthings,andallthatwasleftforHarrytoonfessit.
Ron’snotte.Hehasn’tbeentetoanythingsinethewarended,beauseHermionehadonebeeninonsoblewhenhedidn’tomehomeontime.Shehadthoughtthathehadbeentaken,murdered,rightattheendofthings.Rondidn’tbmeher,sonowhe’spuntual.
Forone,Harryhateshim.There’shalfamomentasRonsayshiandunwindsthesarffromhisnekthatHarrywantstoflee.JustturnandrunwhenRonhashisbakturnedtopehisorder.Buthedoesn’t.
“Sowhat’sup?”Ronlooksonerned.They’vealllearnedtobegentlewithoneanother,butRonisstillmorelikelytothrowapunhforyouthenbeashouldertoryon.