“I’mfine.”Hewasn’t.Everythinghurtbeausetheywouldn’thealhimanyfurther,andpeoplekeptdroppingineventhoughhewastiredandwouldrathersleep,whihmadehimfeellikeanawfulperson,andallthepotionshehadtodrinktastedawful.“BebetterifHarrydroppedin,though.”
Hestillhadn’tstoppedtosayhello.Everytimeheheardthedooropened,helooksupexpetingtoseehimandisdisappointedalloveragain.Atthisrate,hebetterbeomingupwithaverygoodexuseastowhyhehasn’tbeenhereyet.
“Harry’s…”Shehesitated,andheouldtellshewasdeidingwhihsidetogowith—DraoorkeepingHarry’strust.“He’sgettingsomethingdone,Drao.Somethingweallshouldhavetakenareof,alongtimeago.”
“Somethingimportant?”
Hermionewaswathinghimwithsadeyes.“Hethinksso.”
“Moreimportantthanme?”
“Oh,Drao.Idon’tthinkthere’sanythingHarryfindsmoreimportantthanyou,tely.”Hermionestoodupwithanotherwineandgatheredherbagoverhershoulder,leaningdowntogivehimahugbeforesheleaves.“Iexpetthat’spartofthereasonhe’sdoingit.”
Allinall,bythetimetheeveninghealeromesintogivehimhistenightpotionthatsendshimoffintoadreamlesssleep,he’sgrateful.
Whenhewakes,itisdark,butheisertainthatthereissomeonewathinghim.
“Hello?”Hefumblesforhiswandonthebedsidetableandonlysueedsinknokingittothefloor.“Who’sthere?”
“Rex.”ThelightfresonandDraoomesfaetofaewiththestpersonhethoughthewouldseesittingvigilathisbedside—RonWeasley.“It’sonlyme.”
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