“Iloveyou,”Ginnyissayingatthefrontofthemall,hokingbaktears,oneofthefewtimesthatDraohadeverseenherry.“Iloveyou,Iloveyou,Iloveyou,andthat,LunaLovegood,isnotsomethingthatIwasgoingtohavetheabilitytostandwiththesepeopleandsay.Wespentsolongfighting.Solongrunning.”It’slikeherwordsarereahingouttotherowd,addressingeveryone,ingeveryoneintothisirleoflovethatshehasinherheart,Harrymostofall.“Andnowit’sover.Therearesomedays—alotofdays—whereIwakeupandlookaroundanddon’tknowwhattodowithmyself,beausetherearesomanyemptypeswherethepeopleIloveshouldbestanding,somanythingsthatIandonowthathadseemedimpossibleonlyafewmonthsago—andIdon’tknowhowtohandleit.ButthenIlookatyouandIknowthatit’sokay,beauseIknowexatlywhatI’mgoingtodo.I’mgoingtoloveyou,Luna.Fortherestofmylife,I’mgoingtoloveyou.”
Draosqueezeshishandagain,andwhenHarrylooksover,therearetearsshininginhiseyes.
“Iloveyou,too.”Lunaisnotoneforspeehes,notlikeGinny,butshelooksradiantupthere,thehappinesspoffofherinwavestoitherestoftherowd.“Iloveyouwitheverythinginme.IhaveforaslongasIanremember.”
There’samomentwhereHarrythinkssheisgoingtory,butthensheshakesherhairbakfromherfaeandsmilesthatbeautiful,watery,radiantsmileandpushesthroughit.Notthatitwouldhavemattered.Lunadoeswhatshewants,whenevershewants,andifshewantstoryduringhervows,therewasnothingwrongwiththat.Weddingsaretheonepewheretearsarealwaysagoodthing.
Inhishead,heanhearDraoansweringhim.Notalways,hewouldhavesaid,ifHarryhadmentionedthethoughtoutloud,andthenhewouldhavesomestoryaboutsomefamilymemberoranotherandtheirtwistedloveaffairandHarrywouldstoplisteninghalfwaythroughjusttowathhim,toseethewayhetalksandlooksattheworldandthewaythathelooksbakathim,likeHarryisthebestthinginhisentireworld.
It’srude,todothisatawedding,butonsideringallthetimethatGinnyhadtowastelisteningtoHarrypine,hethinkshe’llbefiven.
“It’sokayifyouhavetostikwithmaybe’s.”HarryhasleanedovertowhisperrightintoDrao’sear,andotherthanaraisedeyebrowfromFleur,whoseemstohaveappointedherselftheguardianofetiquette,nooneseemstonotie.“Ifyouanneversayit.BeauseIknow.Iknowthatyouloveme,andIknowthatIloveyouwitheveryahinginhofmysoul,doyouuandDraoMalfoy?FortherestofmylifeI’mgoingtoloveyou,andthere’snothingyouandoaboutitnow.”
Draodoesn’tanswer.
Hedoesn’thaveto.
LikeHarryhadsaid—tearsataweddingarealwaysagoodthing.
Drao
Afterthewhirlwindofelebrations,DraofindshimselfsittingarossfromRon’sAuntMuriel.
Everyonehadwarnedhimabouther.Abouthowmeanshewas,howshedoesnotareaboutpeople’sfeelings,howthereisnoomment(nomatterhowunomfortable)thatshewillletgounsaid.Heronejoyinlife,atoGee,isruininganotherwisepleasantoasionbymakingpeoplesquirm.
“Soyou’rethePotter’sboyfriend?”Shewrinklesuphernose.Draoan’ttellwhatabout—himorHarryorthefatthattheyaretogether,orifshejustdidn’tlikehisologne.Somanythingsabouthimouldbeunderattakinnothingmorethanaseondandhewouldn’tevenknowwhathithim.“Iknewyourfather.”