“Thankyou.”Harry’seyesareear,searhingDrao’sfaeforsomething.“IwantedyoutoknowhowmuhImeanthat.”
“It’snoproblem.”Draoistryingtobenonhant.Hedoesnotknowwhy.Maybeit’sadefensemehanism.“Youmeanalottome.”
Stupid.
It’sastupidthingtosay,butHarry’svoiegetsevensofter,ifthatwaspossible.“Youmeanalottome,too.”
“Iwouldhopeso.”Behthetable,Draodigshisnailsintohisthigh,triestopushthroughtheahethathadsuddenlysprungintohishest.“Idon’tlimbintobathtubswithjustanyman,youknow.”
Itwas,admittedly,averyunsubtlewayoffeelingoutwheretheystandfromstnight,butitworks.Thetension(andthelookinHarry’seyes,whateveritmeant)disappears,andsuddenlyHarryisughingharderthanDraohadeverheardhim,andDraoan’thelpit,hestartsughing,too.“Thatwassobloodyweird.”Harryagrees,finally,andthemomentshouldbeoverbutheisstillstaringatDraowiththatfondexpressionandhestillhashishandonDrao’sarm.“Drunkpeople,huh?”
Draosmiles,relieved,andthenpullshishandaway,tryinghardtohaseoffthefeelingthathewasmissingsomething.“Drunkpeople.”
Harry
He’sgoneforallofthreeminutes.
It’sallHarry’sfault,really.Helefthissarfatthetable,andwhenDraotoldhimtogobakandgetit,thathe’dbefinewaitingoutsideinthealley,hebelievedhim.Andthenwhenheamebakout,Draowasgone,buttherewastheunmistakablesoundofafightomingfromaroundtheorner.
There’sthreeofthem,andthenthere’sDrao.It’snotevenafight,really,justabeatdown,withtwooftheboysholdinghiminpeandtheotherjustwailingonhim,sendingpunhafterpunh.There’sbloodstreamingfromDrao’snose,andautabovehiseyes,andmoredribblingfromlip.Hisoatisgoneandshirtsleeveisripped,andwhentheyfinallygivehimabreak,Draooughsandspluttersthroughthepainuntilheanbreatheagain.
“What’sthematter?”Theoneasks,grabbingDraobythehairandwrenhinghisheadup,fhimtolookathim.Draospitsinhisfae,andtheguybakhandshim,makinghimfalltotheground.“Nodaddyheretosaveyounow.Where’syourdaddy,huhDrao?Telluswherehewent.”
Harrydoesn’tknowifDraowasgoingtokeepfighting,orifhewasreallygoingtogivein,stayontheground.Hedoesn’tfindout,justrunsdownthealleywayuntilhegetstothem,wandheldoutandreadytofight.
“Getawayfromhim.”Hisvoieissteady,butmorefrantithanHarryhadeverheardit.Hewasn’teventhispanikedfaingdownVoldemort.(TomRiddle.)(Damnit.)(Hewasjustaman,treathimlikeone.)“You’vegotthreeseonds.”
“Ohyeah?”Theonewhowasdoingthepunhingturnedaroundtofaehim,obviouslyexpetingsomeonewhowasmoreeasilysared.“Andwho’sgoingtomakeus?”
There’snotmanyoasionsinwhihHarryisgratefulthatheiswhoheis.Thistime,though,heilluminateshiswandsotheyouldseehisfae,andsmileswhentheireyesdartuptoseehissar.“HarrybloodyPotter,that’swho,”Hesays,andstepsforwardtogiveDraoahandup,wishinghehadomeupwithsomethingbetter.“Andyou’remessingwithmyfriend.”