(Andthatpisseshimoff,whattheyouldhavebeenifUnleVernonhadn’tbeensuhanarse.)

“SoIwasthinking,”Dudleystarted,andHarrygroaned.WheneverDudleystartedtothink,theyalwaysfoundthemselvesintrouble.“No,really,IwasthinkingthatyoushouldometomybirthdaydinnerwithmumanddadthisThursday.”

Harryughed,butthenrealizedhewasn’tkidding.“What?eon,Dudley,theyhateme.”

“No,theyhatedmagi.Andtheyhatedyourdad.”Dudleytitledhisbeerbottledtowardshim,pausingtowaveatsomeguyarossthebarthatmighthavebeenhekingHarryoutbutertainlywouldn’tanymore.“Buttheytoleratedyou.”

“Gee,Dud.”Stupid.“Waytomakeaguyfeelspeial.”

“Listen,Iknowit’snotyourideaofafunevening,butIthinkweneedtomovepastthis.They’rewillingtotryifyouare.”Dudleyatedlikeitwasthatsimple.Maybeinhisworlditis.Like,okay,here’smyheklist:getintoollege,getagoodsummerjob,findagirlthatputsupwithmeandishotatthesametime,didallthat,nowwe’regoingtoreatewarmfuzzyfeelingsbetweenmyparentsandthekidtheyrepeatedlyabused.Soundslikeapn.“YouanevenbringDrao,ifyouwant.Iwanttomeethim.”

Harryalmosthokedonhisdrink,butsineDudleywasrummaginginhispokettopaythebartender,hemissedthelookonhisfae.“Really?Youwantmetonotonlybringawizardasmydate,butamalewizard?”

“Theywon’tarethatyou’regay.”Dudleyalmostlookedoffended.“Reallynow,whatdidyouthink?Wearen’tbigots,Harry.”

Theironyofitalmosthurts.

Drao

WhenHarryaskshimtogotodinnerwithhismuggleretives,Draohadsaidyes,fullyexpetinghimtoanelatthestminute.Butasitturnedout,Harrystuktohisommitment,evenifhegetsonsiderablyjumpierastheweekgoeson,pronetobeomingpaleatoddmomentsandbeomesostartledthathedropswhateverhe’sholding.

It’sastrangelookonhim,toseehimafraid,andforthefirsttimeDraoisabletoreallygetanideaofhowhorribleitmusthavebeenforhimtogrowupthewayhedid.Theymusthavebeenreallybad,ifhewasmoresaredtositthroughadinnerthanhewastofightdeatheaters.

“Youdon’thavetodothis.”Draosaid,afterthethirdtimethatHarrytriedtotiehistiebutouldn’tbeausehishandswereshakingsobad.Draostooduptodoitforhim,soheanseethewaythatitpainsHarrytothinkaboutbakingdown.“Youdon’towethemanything.AndI’mnotgoingtothinkanythinglessofyouforit.”

Hefinishesthetie,andthenworksattheuffsofhisshirt,buttoninguptheufflinksthathehadboughthimforChristmas,thenstepsbak.

“IpromisedDudley.It’shisbirthday,andhewantsmethere.”Hisvoiewastrembling,andhiseyesweredartingaroundtheroom,andDraowantedmorethanevertotellhimno,thatthisisonethingthathewillnotwathhimtorturehimselfover.“It’sonlyonenight.”

Draostaysquiet,butevenashegoesuptogetreadytoleave,hean’thelpbutthinkthatthisisgoingtoendverybadly.

Harry

Therestaurantisinrediblyfany,justlikeheknewitwouldbe,andHarryisterriblygdthathebroughtDraowithhim,beausehe’sompletelyoutofhiselement.

Drao,though?Heseemstostandstraightertheminutehewalksin,asifpikinguponthefatthattonightHarrywasgoingtobefollowinghislead.Peoplemovedasideforhim,andsineDraowasholdingHarrybythehand,hedidn’thavetofightthroughtherowdofpeoplearoundthehostesswhowerevyingforatable.“Hi.”Heleansoverthepodiumandsmiles,harmingandinontrol.Thehostess,likeshereognizesthatthisisthekindofpersonwhoanatuallyaffordtoeathere,turnsawayfromtheotherstryingtogetatablethatwouldn’tbethereandsmilesathim.“Ithinkourpartyalreadywentbak.TableforDursley?Ormaybeit’sunderPotter?”

“Vernon?”She’sgotverywhiteteeth,whihmakesthelipstikstainstandoutthatmuhmore.Harryan’tseemtostoplookingatit,butDraodoesn’tseemtonotie.

Draolooksbakforonfirmation,andHarrynodsmutely.“That’stheone.”

Hekeepsupasteadystreamofhatteronthewaytothebakoftheroom,andHarrytakesamomenttogatherhisbearings.Thisisnothingthathehadn’tdonebefore.Heheldhistongueandpyedhispartforseventeenyears,heouldstoneeveningforDursley’ssake.Andthistime,Draowaswithhim.Hewouldhavesomeoneinhisorner.

“Hello.”Draosmiled,winningly,givingnosignthathehadheardanythingbadabouttheDursleys.Dudleystandsupfirst,andafterexhangingalook,AuntPetuniaandUnleVernonfollowsuittoshakeDrao’shand.“YoumustbetheDursleys.I’mDrao.”

(HarryanpratiallyfeelthemalutingtheprietagonDrao’ssuit,andforone,eventhoughitdoesn’tmatterandHarrydoesn’tareaboutthesuitoutsideoftheoofhowgoodDraolooksinit,he’shorriblygdthatitostmuhmorethaneitherofthemwoulddarespend.)

“I’mDudley.Heardsomuhaboutyou.”Harrywines,butotherthanaslightsmileinhisdiretion,Draodoesn’tomment.“Andthisismymother,Petunia,andmyfather,Vernon.”

Harrystayssilentthroughtheintrodutions,wathing.AuntPetuniaisinagarishlygreendressdottedwithpinkflowers,hernekjustaslongandbonyasever,butherhandslookedworndown,theskinpaleandrippedraw.UnleVernonwasjustasgruffasever,dressedtoimpress,likeheouldbullyhiswaythroughdinnerjustlikehedideveryotheraspetofhislife.

“Andyou,boy?”Boy.Thewordstillstings.Evennowhedoesn’tdeserveaname.“Seemslikeyou’redoingwellforyourself.”

Aompliment.Harrydidn’tknowhowtorespondtothat—ifheshoul

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