“Foreverybody.”HepulledbakalittleandstarteddrawingirlesbehDrao’solrbone.“Youknow,we’realwaystalkingaboutwhatIwant,but…whatdoyouwant?”
Draogavehimalopsidedsmileandlethishandtraveluptohisnekwhereheburieditinhisuntamablehair.Hewasn’tsureifheshouldbeworriedaboutthefatthatthesekindofrevetionsdidn’tseemassaryanymoreandfeltmuhmoreomfortableonhislips.
“YouknowwhatIwant,”hesaidsoftly.“It’srighthereinfrontofme.”
Potterwasperfetlystillforaseondbeforehemadeagaggingsoundinmokdisgustandtheybothburstoutughing.Draopokedhissidepyfullyandpulledhimbakdownagain.
“Happybirthday,Potter,”hemurmuredagainsthislips.HefeltPotterhukleandouldn’thelpdoingsohimself.Thiswasit.Hehadneverbeenhappierinhislife.Itwassuhastrangefeeling;sounfamiliar,sobeautifulandsopowerful,itatuallyhurt.
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