“Thenwhyareyouleaving?”

Hereyesarekind,andheisthepersonthatshesoughtoutjustbeausehedidnotstareathersars,andthisgirlwhousedtoturnheadseverywhereshewenthasnowhosentohideherselfinthedarkestpesheanfind,soDraofindshimselftellingher,abouteverything,howhedoesn’tbelongandhowheisforeveriedtoHarryandtheoffhandommentsthatHarrymakes,howheisnotsurewherethelimitsareorwhatlinesheisrossingorifheisexpetedtogo.“AndI’mterrified,”Heendswith,ursinghimselffromsayingsomuhtothisgirlhebarelyevenknows,butatleastsheisnotthinkingaboutthestaresorherskinorthewar,justhimandhistroubles.“Terrifiedthathedoesn’twantme,still,thatIreadthisallwrong,andIan’tevenaskhim,beauseI’msaredtheanswerisno.”

“Soit’sbettertorunaway?”

“It’sbettertobetheonewholeaves.”Thewordsareringinghollow,buttheyaretrue,heknowsit.“Leavebeforeyouangetleft.”

“It’snotmype,”Shesays,justlikeeveryotherpersonwhogivesadviewithoutbeingasked.“Buthelovesyou.Iknowhelovesyou,beauseI’vewathedhim,wathedthepeoplethathearesabout,andhelooksatthemallthesameway,likehewouldburnawayanythinginhispathtogettoyou.Andwhenamanlovesyoulikethat,he’snotgoingtowanttoleaveyoubehindforanythingintheworld.”Lavenderreahesarossthetable,andsheissomuhsmarterthanheremembersfromHogwarts.“There’snothingforyoutobeafraidof.”

“Butthere’ssomuhlefttolose,whenyouknowwhatit’slikeforsomeonetoloveyoulikethat.”Draosaid,thewordsrakinginhismouth,blisteringhistongueashesaysthem.“It’llburnyouup.”

“Trustme.”Herlefthandreahesupherrightarmandtraesthesarsingaroundher,likeshehadthemmemorizedthem.“Thereareworsewaystogo.”

It’sanotherhourbeforehefindshiswaybaktoHarry.

“Danewithme.”HedragsDraotohim,outontotheefloor.

“It’snotaslowsong.”Draoughs,buthestillwantstositdown,beausethisnighthasbeenexhausting.“Andyousaidyouhateanyothertype.”

“Itsoundslikeaslowsongtome.”Itwasn’taslowsong.Itwasheavymetal.Ginnywasthreefeetawayfromthemandatuallyheadbanging,withLunaswayingbesideher,avaguelybemusedexpressiononherfae.“Idon’tknowwhatyou’relisteningto.”

Helovesme,Draothinks,andherethetwoofthemare,slowinginthisroom,andit’sliketherestofthebuildingisfallingaway,burningaway,LunaandGinnyandtherestdisappearingbeausetheyjustdon’tmatter,really,onlythetwoofthemdo.

“Areyoualright?”Harrylooksonerned.“Or,Imean,arewealright?BeauseLunasaidthatyouseemsad,andI’velearnedthatLunaisnormallyrightaboutthings.”

DraothinksaboutthehouseinLondon,abouttheworrythat’smadeahomeinhisstomah.Hethinksabouthowheisafraidtoleavewhatheisomfortablewith,howGrimmauldPewasnotahomebutitfeelsliketheirs,liketheybothhaveanequalshare.HethinksabouthowworriedheisthathewillalwaysbeinHarry’sdebt,nomatterhowmuhtheyloveeahother,beauseyouannotbesavedbysomeoneandnotfeelabitlikeyoumustmakeituptotheminanywayyouan,andhowmuhhedoesnotwantthathangingoverhisheadfortherestofhislife.

ButhealsothinksaboutLavender,abouttheirsars,herinsistenethattheirsisaburninglove,thatthereareworsewaystogothanoutinafshoffireandmaybehowitisworthit,thatthey’llgetpastthosethings,beausetheyloveeahotherandmaybeitsstrongerthanthismessthattheworldhasleftthemin.

(Maybe.Mostlikely.Butthathadnotmatteredthenightbefore,whenhepakedallhislotheswithawaveofhiswandandgotreadytosneakoutofthehousewithoutwarningjustbeauseitwouldhurtless,butheouldonlygethalfwaydownthestairsbeforeheturnedaroundandrawledbakintobed,shouldersheavingwithsilentsobs,hottearsstreamingdownhisfaeanddrippingdownintothesheets.)

“OfourseIam.”HeknotshisfingersinthefabriofHarry’sshirt.“We’regolden.”

Chapter39

Harry

Whenhewasyounger,lokedinthatupboardunderthestairsandwifhewouldevergetout,thinkingonlyofthefootstepsreakingoverhisheadandthespiderstremblingontheeiling.Hehadnowaytotraktimeotherthanthehungerpainsrinhisstomah,andhewashungryallthetimebakthen,sowhentheDursleyshadallleftforsomefamilyoutingandHarrywasleftinthere,aloneinthedark(thiswas,ofourse,beforetheyaddedthelightbulb),itwasliketheooftimedidn’texistatall.

Liketherewasnotime,justthis,thisyellowed,lumpymattressandhistoobigjeansandthedoorwiththesplintersfromthetimehehadlosthisheadandtriedtowhiswayoutintothehallway(hisfingershadbledformonthsafter),likehewasexistinginabkhole,somepewherenoonewouldhearhissreams,whereifhehaddiedlikeVernonkeptaskinghimtodo,noonewouldeverevenknowheexisted.

(LikeShrodinger’sCat,Hermionehadtoldhim,one,intheirsixthyear,whenshefinallyaskedthequestionsabouthislifeinthemuggleworldthatsheandRonhadbeendyingtoknowandhehadtoldher,theworryandthefearandtheneverendingpainbleedingoutofhiminonelongrushofanexpnation,likeyouexistandyoudon’tatthesametime,beauseuntilthatdooropened,therewasnothingbutyourownmindtodeide,nosensoryinputtoremindyouthatyouarealive,andhehadstaredather,dumbstruk,beforesayingyes,yes,thatwasitsogdthatithadbeenputintowordsthatmadesomesortofsense.)

T

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