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“No.”Harryholdsthesrollouttohim,theowlhootingbalefullyatthewindow,waitingforoneofthemtosignthesrapofpapersayingthatitwasreeivedanduood.“It’saddressedtoyou.”

Harrywantedtoknowwhatwasinsideasbadlyasheneededtokeepbreathing,buthealsodidn’thavealuewhatitmightontain,andashewathedtheemotionsflikedarossDrao’sfae,herealizedthatmaybehedidn’twantto.

“What?”DraothrewtheparhmentdowntothetableindisgustandHarryrippeditup.“What’swrong?”

“They’velearedthemanor.”Drao’shandswereshakingagain.Harryhadthoughtitwasgettingbetter.“Allevidenehasbeenremoved,everythinggeroustakenout,andthepropertyisreturnedtotheonlyofkinwithalearname.”Histonemadeitlearwhathethoughtaboutallofthis,drippinginderision.“Me.”

Harrydidn’tknowwhatwasupsettinghimsomuh,ifitwasthemanorandthememoriesitheld,ofthefatthattheministryhadtheaudaitytoimitastheirowninthesakeofjustie,ormaybeitwasthefatthattheyonsideredhimwiththebestreputation.

“That’sagoodthing,right?”Hefeltlikehewastreadingintounknownwaters,wherehewon’tknowhowdeepitgoesuntilhetakesthestepoffsolidgroundandfallsdownintothedeep.Heneverhadlearnedtoswim.“Tohaveyourhomebak?”

Draolookedathimlikehewasstupid,thenthrewthatsrapofparhmentintothefire,notrexinguntilheseestheornersurlandbken.“Youan’tgohomeagain,Harry.”Hepassedbehindhimandppedahanddownonhisshoulderinawaythatmighthaveonsideredfriendly,hadtheynotbeenhalfasleepwiththeirarmsedaroundeahotheronlyhoursbefore.“NotevensureI’dwantto.”

Drao

’tgohomeagainHarry,Draohadsaid,leavingtheroomlikehewasleavingreallifebehind,likewalkingawayfromaproblemwasthesamethingassolvingit.

Hehadthoughtthatburninguptheletterandpushingittothebakofhismindwasthebestoption,beausethen,atleast,hewouldneverhavetostepfootinitagain.Butthentheowlskeptoming,onethemandthatnightandtheandtheandthe,andfinallyonedemandinghispreseneinthelegaldepartmentoftheministry.

“Theyan’tmakeyougo,”Hermionetellshim,whenthey’vetradedouttheirmustyoldpotionbooksforfashionmagazines,poverdressesforhertoweartoaformal.“Ifyouwaitanotherthirtydays,it’llbeturnedovertothestateandthey’llsellittoolletmoneyforsomeharityoranother.”

“Anotherthirtydaysofowls?”Draohadsnortedout,feigninghorror,butthatwasn’treallywhatwasb.Hedidn’tlikethethoughtofstrangersombingthroughhishome,andevenifitwasmostlybad,hedidn’twanttheMalfoyManor’shistorytobeboileddowntothis:raffledoffinsomeautionjusttobetorndown,destroyedforitsmineralsandmarbleandturnedintosrap,justabnkstrethofndonthefaeoftheearth,allbeausethestMalfoywasaoward.Horriblethingshadhappenedthere,butitdeservedbetterthanthat.

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