“There’snothingwrongwithwaiting,Potter,”hefinallysnapped,hisheeksburning.
“Ofoursenot,”Pottersaid,soundingstartled.“Butyouaren’t—Imean…Areyouwaitinguntilmarriage?”
Thatquestionraisedsomanyredfgs,Draodidn’tevenknowhowtoreat.
“Youknowwhat,it’ste,youshouldprobablygohome,”Draosaid,standingup.Theroomimmediatelystartedspinning.Still,heouldseePotterblinkingathim.
“I—I’msorry,Ididn’tmeanto—”
“Youdidn’t.ButI’mtired.Youshouldgo.”
Slowly,Pottergotup.Hehesitated,fidgetingwithhisjumper.
“We’restill…okay,right?”
Draoarhedaneyebrow.
“We’restill…friends?”
Friends.HearingPottersaythatfeltlikesuptothesun…beforefree-fallingandrashingtotheground.Headfirst.Friends.DidDraowanttobePotter’sfriend?Ofoursenot.Hewanted…Well,itdidn’tmatterwhathewanted.BeingfriendswithPotterwasasfarasthingsouldgo.Theonlyquestionwas,wouldDraobeabletowithstandthatkindoftorture?
Hebrieflylosedhiseyes,lettingoutasigh.“Yes,we’restillfriends.”
“Okay.Good.”
Draowathedhimashewentovertothefirepewithslightlysaggingshoulders.
“Well,goodnight,”Pottermuttered,beforehevanishedinthegreenfmes.
Chapter6:Whatbsp;ISay
Sunday,19January2003
Drao,
I’mreallysorryaboutstnight.
HP
Potter,