Inaway,theyhadworkedout,beausenowherehewas,stillbuzzingwiththemagioftheVow,sittingarossfromDraoMalfoyliketheywerefriends.Theyalmostwere,andheknew,intime,theywouldbe.Theyhadtheirwholelivestoworkthatsituationout.Butpartofhimwonderedwhyhehaddoneit.Ofourse,therewastheonfessionthathehadmadetoMGonagall,theoneheknewbeyondadoubtwastrue;hewasinlovewithDraoMalfoy.Butitwashardlyommonforyoutogofromonfessingone’sloveforthefirsttimeoutloudtoVowingtoprotetthem,nowandforevermore,inthesameday.ItwasabitRomeoandJulietofhim,hehadtoadmit.Andevenifheknewthathisfeelingswerenotentirelyued,heouldn’thelpbutfeelhehadrushed.
Thenagain,whatelsewastobeexpetedofhim?Hiswholelifehadbeenrushed.HewentfrombeinganormalmugglekidtobeingthemostfamouswizardintheUnitedKingdom,andpossiblytheworld,inlessthanaday.Hebeametheyouseekerinagesinasimirway.HewentfromanorphantohavingSiriustobeinganorphanagaininwhatfeltliketheshortesttimeperiodimaginable.Hiswholelifehappenedtoofast,andhehadn’tlearnedhowtomakedeisionsinatimely,wellthoughtoutmanner.Hehadneverhadtodeveloptheskillofthinkingthingsoutwell.ThathadalwaysbeenHermione’sjob.
Therewasalotonhismind,tobesure,butthethoughtthatmostoupiedhimwashowdiffiulthewasfindingitnottostareatDrao’sfae.Heknewhehadforeverandthensometomemorizeitall,butwhathewantedrightnow,morethananythingwastowalkarosstowhereDraosatandholdhisfaebetweenhishandsandjustlookathim.Lookathimandrunhisfingersoverthelinesofhisheekbones,hisnose,hislips.Ofourse,heknewalltoowellwhatDraolookedlike,butheneverbeenallowedtojustlooklikehewantedto.Likeheknewnowthathewasbeinghotohimself,thathealwayswantedto.
“Potter,”Draosaidsuddenlyfromwherehesatinhisarmhair,eyeslosedasheresthisheadonhishand.
“Hmm?”
“Stopwathingme.”
“I’mnot.”
“Youareso,”Draoreplied,openinghiseyestolookattheotherman.“Youhaveguiltwrittenalloveryourfae.Anddon’tatlikeIdon’tknowwhatthatlookslike,Ipratiallyhaveadotorateininterpretingyourfaialexpressions.Whyareyoustaring,Potter?”
“IneverthoughtI’dseeyourfaeagain,”Harrysaid,finally,igntheflutterinhisstomahasheadmittedit.
“Therewerephotos,”Draosaid,thoughHarryouldn’thelpbutnotietheolorthatametohisheeksashespoke.
“Notasgood,”Harryreplied.“Besides,theydon’tlooklikeyoudonow.”
“Yeah?IshowIlooknowbetterorworse?”Draosneered,althoughHarryouldtellhisheartwasn’tinit.
“Isthatevenaquestion?Haveyouseenyou?”
“Idon’tthinkIlookallthatdifferent,”Draoshrugged.
Harryknewhehadbroughtthisoionuponhimself,buthefelthewasgettingtoolosetosayingtoomuh.Hestoodup,paingbetweentheirtwoarmhairs.WhenhisbakwastoDraohespoke.
“Youlook—Ikeeptellingmyselfyoumustbeaghost.OrsomeextremelyiiveMirrorofErised-esquevision.IkeeptellingmyselfthetimeIturnaround,you’llbegone.OrI’llbehavingamomentofluidityinwhateverSt.Mungo’sbedI’murrentlystrappedinto,”Harryrambled,turningtofindDraohadalsostoodfromhisseat.
“SoIlooklikeaghost?”Draosaid,approahingHarryslowly.
“No,that’snotwhatImeant.Imean,you’repale,but—”HarrytrailedoffagainasDraotookhisarmbythewrist.
DraotookHarry’shandandpeditonhishest.
“You’rehanddoesn’tgothrough,doesit?”Draoasked,hisvoieimpossiblysoft.
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