Mostlybeauseitomesquikerthanheexpeteditto.Hermionehadtoldhimnottothinkofitasanending,butHarryhadahardtimefindinganotherwordforit,whenboxingupthepieesofhishousefeltlikeboxinguppieesofhimself,too,oldbaggagethatheshouldhaveshovedintostealongtimeagofinallybeingletgoofandalltheoldghostsofthewarfinallyfindingsomethingthatfeelslikepeae,settlingdownintohisskinwherehean’tevenfeelthemanymore.

Somethingsanend,hethinks,lookingupattheneweilingoverhisheadandreahingouttowhereheanfeelDraotohim.Thatdoesn’tmeanthateverythinghasto.

“Youreallyneedtogotosleep.”Drao’svoieisnothingmorethanamurmur,thewordsslurredfromthewaythatheisburiedintothepillow.Theyhavebeenlyingherefortwohoursnow,butHarryannotgettosleep,notwheneverynerveinhisbodyisawakeandready,notabletosettleinthisnewpe.Therearesomanyornerstohekforraks,somanyshadowsthatouldshapeintomonstersatanymoment.AndaslongasHarryannotsleep,Draoannotsleep,sousedtohavinghiseasybreathingtosetthepaeforthenight.“Theweddingisinlikefourhours.”

Thewedding.He’dalmostfotten.Lunahadthoughtitwassortofsymboliforthefourofthem,thatthesenewhaptersoftheirliveswouldbothbestartingatthesametime,butHarryjustthoughtitwassortofaggravating.BothheandDraowereheavilyinvolvedintheweddingpnning,andalmostsolelyresponsibleforthepaking(thoughwhenHermioneisstressedfromwork,shesometimesomesoverwithabelmakerandpretendsit’sbeauseshedoesnottrusttheirabilities,butthatexuseworksbetterwithHarryandRonthanHarryandDrao),whihmeantthatthestfewweekshadbeennothinglessthanheti.Itseemslikehehadn’tevenbeabletofindtimetobreathe.

“Youmeanwean’tjustsleepthroughtheeremony?”Harryrubbedathiseyesuntilitstung,wifitmightjustbemoreprudenttostayupthroughthenightanddrainagallonofoffeeinthem.“It’swhatIwaspnningtodo.”

“Probablynot,seeingaswe’resittinginthefrontrow.”

Harrysnorted.“Lunawouldn’tmind.”

“ButGinnywouldkillyou.”

Harrybarksoutaugh,andthenquietsagain,tryingtoforehimselftosleep.Italmostworks,butthenDraoistalkingagain,hishandsearhingoutforHarry’ssoheansqueezeittight.“Youneedtoknowsomething.”Hisvoieisalittlebitbreathless,alittlebitstrangled,andalittlebitsared.“Iprobablyloveyou.”

Hehadn’tsaidityet,eventhoughHarryhad.Hadn’tsaidit,eventhoughtheybothknewthetruth.Hadn’tsaiditbeause,astheboggartproved,hewasstillterrifiedoftrustingwhatheknowstobetrue.Harryhadn’tmindedthewait.Butthis?Thiswassomuhbetter.

“Okay.”

“Imean,I’mprettysureIdo.IthinkIdo.”There’sasmileinhisvoie,andnowDraoisnotafraidanymore,apparentlyomfortedatHarry’sontinuedpresenebesidehimandthefatthathewasn’ttryingtomakeanygrandderationsofhisown.“Hardtotell.”

“Howertainareyou,then?”Wedothingsabitbakward,iswhatHarryisthinking,buthe’snotreallybotheredbyit,notwhenheanrollovertohoverontopofDrao,smilingdownathim.“Like,agoodbit,oronlyasmallbit?”

“Agoodbit.”Draopretendedtothink.“Atleasty-fiveperent.”

“y-five?”Harrybitbakaughagain.“IthoughtI’dbeworthy-seven,atleast.”

“Maybey-eight.”

There’snothingmuhtosay,afterthat,sotheyjuststareateahother.HarryhalfexeptsDraotoshyawayafterhisderation,buthedoesn’t,juststrethesoutbehhimliketherewasnothingsaryaboutthisintheleast.

“HeyHarry?”Hisvoieissofternow,nojoking.

“Yeah,Drao?”

“Ireallydoloveyou.”Hereahesouttotraethespikesofthelightningboltsar,andHarry’shandsfindhiswaytoDrao’sstomah,tothesilverlineshehadsshedarossthemaneternityago.“Really,really.”

Harrywantstory.Hewantstough.HewantstoholdontoallofDrao’ssharpedgesandbrokenpieesandoldsarsuntilheandraintheaheaway,buthean’t,sohesettleswithIloveyouinstead,overandoverandover,hopingthatitfinallymakeshimbelieveit.

“Good,”iswhatDraorespondswith,hokingitoutthroughhisughingandhistears.“Good.”

Chapter43

Drao

There’samomentwherehealmostturnsaround.

It’sonlyamoment,hejustifiester,whenLunamentionsit(andhowdidsheevenknow,shewasbakintheBurrowandhewasjustontheedgeofthegarden)andGinnyfixeshimwithagre,butit’slongenoughforhimtostandandwaththeothersalltoeahother,fallintolinesthathadbeendrawnbeforeDraohadevenwantedapetostandbetweenthem,andthemarkonhisarmseemstoburn,remindinghimofhowhedoesnotbelong,howtheyannotwanthim,howhewillonlytaintthis,taintthem,butthenHarryturnstoathsightofhimandRonisraisinganarmupingreetingandHermioneisraingarossthegrass,lipboardinhand,untilshebarrelsintohishest.

“Wedidit!”Thewholepelookswonderful.It’sdrapedinsilverandgoldandthelightestblue,olorsthathewouldnothavepikedbutHermionehadsomehowmadework,justasLunapromisedthemthattheywould.DespiteGinny’srelutane,shehadagreedtohaveitattheBurrowatFleur’sinsistene.Lookather.Howouldanyoneompareourveddingtoyours,vhenyouaremarryingavomanlikezat?Lukily,everyoneintheroomhadtakenitasaomplimentandGinnyhadagreedwithoutanyfurtherissue.“Ididn’tthinkweweregoingto,butwedid!Andit’sallonshedule!”

Ron

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