DraowasughingathiminthewayhedoeswhenhethinksHarryisbeingsilly,hismouthtwistingupintoasmirk.Harrydoesn’tknowhowtoexpintherealproblemwithbeingtheenterofattention—thathowsometimesitwindsyoudown,piksoffpieesofyou,takesawayallyouredgesuntilyouhavenothingtoprotetyourselfandthereisnotoughskintohidebehind,onlyyouandtheuglytruthofthepubliopinion.Andthere’salsotheotherpart,abouthowgoingthereandsmilingandaeptingtheirthankswouldseemlikehewasmoreimportantthantheotherswhohadriskedlifeandlimbtofightbesidehim,tofightforhim,andheouldn’tstomahit,notwhentheonlythingHarryanreallythinkheisbeingongratutedonisthefatthathehadbeenlukyenoughtostayalive,eventhoughhehadtriedtodie.

(Here’sthething,thelittlethoughtinhisheadthatheisn’ttellinganyone,ertainlynotHermione:Heshouldhaveprotetedthemall.That’swhathewastryingtodo,bywalkingintothatforest.Heshouldhaveprotetedthem,orheshouldhavediedwiththem,andhedidn’tquitemanagetodoeither,sowhatkindofaherodoesthatmakehim?”

“TheywanttoknowifIhaveaplusone.”Harryreadsovertheletterforthethirdtime,alreadyrippingoffapieeofparhmenttosendaRSVP.“WhodotheythinkI’mtaking?EveryoneknowsthatGinnyandIbrokeup.”

Theydid.Itwasfrontpagenewsassoonasithappened.EventheQuibbleroveredit,whihwassortofendearingmorethanannoying,beauseLunahadwrittenitinherHERE’SWHATMYFRIENDSHAVEBEENDOINGLATELYolumn,andHarrydidn’thaveitinhimtobemadather.

“Yououldtakeme.”There’sforedasualnessinhisvoie,andeventhoughthey’vegottenpastthepointwheretheypretendaroundeahother,DraoisavoidingHarry’seyes.“I’dbeabletohelp.”

Likethat’sthereasonthatHarrywouldwanttotakehim.Beausehe’dbeabletohelp.

“Yeah.”Harryhadtolearhisthroattwiebeforeheouldgetthewordout,beausethisisraisingmorequestionsthanitisanswers,likeifit’sadateandwhetherDraowantedittobeadate,ifthiswaspartoftheirattempttokeepmovingforward,ifHarryshouldbeexpetingthingstohangeiftheygopublilikethis.“Yeah,I’dlikethatalot.”

Draosmiles,eventhoughhestillisnotlookinghisway.“Youwould?”

Harrydoesn’tknowwhattodowithhimwhenheislikethis,sohejustsmiles,too,andgoestotheupboardtomakehisownbowlofereal,wwhatintheworldhewasgoingtowear.

Hemakesituntilthirtyminutesbeforethepartybeforehestartstofreakout.

Harry’swearinganoldsuitofDrao’s,beauseapparentlyit’sinfashiontowearmuggleformalweartothingsnow(oratleast,ifit’snotinfashion,itwillbeaftertheyseethetwoofuswearingit,andit’llbeeasiertotakeyoushoppingatamugglepe,anyways)anditfeelsliketheolrisstranglinghim.Hetugsatit,hearingHermione’svoieinhisheadtellinghimtoleaveitalone,andlooksathisrefletioninthegsswareupboard,nervouslytryingtofttenhishair,eventhoughGinnyhadreassuredhimatthispointinhislife,itkeepshimfromlookinglesslikehe’stryingtoohardandmorebadboyhi.

Hedoesn’tknowwhatthatmeans,butifGinnysayshelooksfinethanheprobablydoes,sohespendstherestofthetimepaingthelivingroomfloor,andit’sonlythethoughtofhowexitedthishadmadeDraothatkeepshimfromgoingtothebottomofthestepsandanellingonhim,sayingsrewitandlokingthedoorandthrowinghimselfdownontheouh,andhewon’tevermakethemistakeofgivingintothepressureagain,eveniftheysendsomanyowlsthelettersfillupthewholehouse.

“Drao?”Heswingshimselfaroundonthebannister,eventhoughthewoodwasreakinginprotest.Harryspendshalfhistimeseeinghowfarheangobeforethisoldhousebreaks,justsohehasanexusetofixitup.Sofar,noluk.Wizardsmakethingsforkeeps,apparently.“Youalmostready?We’regoingtobete.”

Notreally,butHermionewantedpitures,andshealsowantedDrao’sopiniononherdressbeforeshethrowsherselfatthemeryofthemob.Ron’swrittenandsaidthatshehadspentalldaygettingready,withthathairsleekingpotionanddoinghernails.Itseemsthathildhoodtauntshadmadeherunwillingtogoifshelookedanythinglessthanperfet.

“We’renotgoingtobete,”Draosays,andthere’sreakingofthestepsbehindhim.HarryknowswithoutturningaroundthatDraoisrollinghiseyesandputtingthefinishingtouhesonhishairatthesametime,likethere’sastringtwistingthetwoofthemtogethersoHarryknowsexatlywhat’shappeningwithhimatalltimes.“Youan’trushbeauty.”

Harry’salreadyfaresponse,thewordsrightonthetipofhistongue,butthenheturnsaroundandfetsanythinghemighthavesaid,beauseeventhoughheknewthathefoundDraoattrative,thiswasthefirsttimethathewasaughtoffguardenoughtoallowhimselftolookwithoutfeelingguilty.

“Youlook…”He’sinanewsuit,too,thisonegrey.He’sininrediblymutedolors,withhispaleskinandlighthairandthedarkgreyofhissuit,likehewantedtomeltintothebakgroundwhilegivingHarryalltheroomtoshine,buttherewasnothingthatwouldlethimfalloutofsightwhenhe’swalkingaroundlookinglikethis.“Amazing.”

“Thanks.”Draosrathesathisolr,butotherthanthat,there’snosignthathewasflusteredatall.“Youdotoo.”Hedidn’t.Harrydidn’tlookbad,buthedidn’tlookgreat,notthewayDraodid,likehewasgoingtobetheonlythingintheroomworthlookingat.“Exeptforthetie,you…”

Harryfumbledatitforamoment,andthenDraowasthere,pushinghis

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