Harry’swaitingforhiminthelivingroom.Helookslost,standingthere,likehean’tquitefigureoutwhathe’sdoingorwhyhewouldbestandingthere,stillpreparingforthethreat.Adrenalinehighsandothattoyou.

“Youalright?”Draowantedtogotohim,buthealsoknewthatompanymightnotbewelome,sohehungbak.

“Yeah.”Harrysmiled,eventhoughhiseyeswerestilldartingaroundtheroom.Draohadthefeelingthatthiswouldbeoneofthenightswherehewokeuptothesoundoffootstepsreakingontwistedfloorboards,wherehewouldpretendnottoknowthatHarrywasupandabout,hekingtheloksandtheshadowedornersforintruders.“I’msorryImadeyouworry.”

“Don’tthinkaboutme.”Draodughisfingersintothebontheouh,buryingthemdowntotheknukles.It’seasiertohaveoionslikethiswhenthere’ssomethingtoholdonto.“Youdowhateveryouhaveto.”

“Alwaysdo.”

Harrystilllookedlost,andnowhelookedalittlebitteraboutthewholething,soDraothoughtitwouldbeokaytoirletheouhandomeuptohim.Hehesitatesbeforegettingloser,butthenhereahesoutandgrabsHarry’shand,swinginghisarmbakandforthbetweenthem.

ItdrawsHarrybaktothemoment,alittle.Hestilllookslost,butthere’ssomethinglearerabouthisexpressionwhenheraiseshisfreehandtobrushagainstDrao’sheek,rightoverwherethefrostingwas.

He’sprobablyjustsmearingitaround,Draothinks,bitingdownonhislip.Thisisnothelpinganything.

(Shit,it’snot.He’stheonewhothrewthefitaboutnotbeinganythingmorethanroommates,andhereheis,atinglikearightarsebygettingallupinhisfae.)

“I’mgoingtoomebakhome,youknow.”Harrywhispers,andDraowantstobakup.HealsowantstoiinsomeofthoselightballsthatHermionehasatherpe,beauseandlelightissonothelping.“Who’sgoingtotakeareofyouifI’mnothere?”

Youdon’teventakeareofmenow,Draothinks,butthat’salie,soheamendsittoIdon’tbelongtoyou,whih,dependingonwhatwayyoulookatit,isalsoalie.

“ProbablyLuna.”Stoptalking.Stepaway.Talkaboutthedamnake,atleastkillthemood,willyou?“She’lladoptme,stikmeinwiththegnargles.”

Harryughs,dukinghisheaddowntohidehisexpression,buryinghisfaeinDrao’sshoulder.Draostiffensandtriestostandasstillashean,digshisfingersintothebakofHarry’ssweateruntilhestraightensupagain.Whenhedoes,hisfaeisalotalmer,likethehaosofthebattlehadfinallybeenknokedoutofhim.

“Yeah.”He’slettinggo,steppingaway,andDraowantstopullhimbak.Kisshim,youidiot,weren’tyoujustthinkingaboutallthethingsyouwouldnevergettosayifhedidn’tomehome,butno,thiswasnotadeisiontomakeatfourinthem.Thistime,therewasnodrinkstohidebehind,nopotiontobmeiton,nofriendstotearthemapart.Here,now,itwasonlythetwoofthemandwhateverationstheytookwouldhaveverystingimpressions.“Probablywould.”

Harryisstillwaiting.Draoisstillhopingthathe’llbethefirsttowalkaway,sothatforone,Draodoesn’thavetolooklikeaoward.

(Heisn’t.)

(Draoalwaystheonewholeaves.Hedoesn’tseewhythatshouldhangeanytimesoon.)

Chapter21

Drao

Harry’soutsavingtheworld,andthistimeDraoan’tquitestomahthethoughtofspendingallnightaloneinthisft,wwhatmightbehappeningandhavingnowaytohelp,soheleaves,promisinghimselfthathehadalifebeforehegotaughtupinallofHarry’sherois,andhehadarighttohavealifenow.Hehadmadenopromisetostayhereandwaitliketheworriedwife,soheouldleave,damnit,gooffandfindhisownfunsineHarrywouldn’tlethimhelp,imingthatitwastoogerous,andhehadallthepeopleheneeded.

Itwasaloadofbullshit.

Draowasn’thelpingbeausehewasn’tapable,hewasn’thelpingbeausetheyallstillsawhimasaliability,evenHarry.Theyan’texpethimtoturnonhispastloyalties,eventhoughhe’striedtoexpintothemallthattherehadbeennoloyaltyaboutit.Justasaredlittlekidwhowasinwayoverhishead.

“Ijustdon’tfeelomfortableputtingyouinthatsituation.”Harrysays,lookinglikeheistryingtoavoidthesituationblowingupinbothoftheirfaes.Andreally,Draoknowshedoesn’thaveanyrighttobeangry,beausethisisjustoneofthosedisappoisthatamefromfindinghimselfonthewrongside.Hishoies(orkofthem)weregoingtohaunthimfortherestofhislife.“Whatifit’ssomeoneyouknow?”

Draowantstoprotest,buthehearstherestofit.Whatareyougoingtodowhenyouomefaetofaewithsomeonethatyouusedtobefriendswithasahild,orhadawandpointedatyoubyafamilyfriend?Areyoureallygoingtokillthem?Areyoureallygoingtobringthemin?Youaren’treadytodowhatever’sneessarytowin,buttheyare.Andsoarewe.

Sohedidn’targueafterhisinalofferwasshotdown,evenifhisgoodbyetonightwasalittleolderthannormal,justapressofhisfingersintoHarry’swristbeforehewalksoutthedoorforgood,somethingthathehopedHarrywasabletotakeasanapologyandawarningatthesametime,asilentpleaforhimtoomebakhometohim.

Still,thatdoesn’tmeanheisn’tangry,orthathe’sfinejustsittingonthestepsandwathingthehallwayforHarrytoomebakhomelikehehadthepastthreetimesHarrywenttosomemeeting(meeting,bullshit,youdon’tomebakfrommeetingsandreturnoveredinblood)orsattostakeoutahouse.Hedidn’tknowwherehewasgoingorhowlonghewouldbethere,ifitwasgerousorjustroutine,ifhewasaloneo

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