“It’simportant.Remus,Tonks,Mad-Eye,Fred—theydeservetoberemembered,don’tyouthink?”Then,asanafterthought,“sodowe,forthatmatter.”
“Still,itseems…”Private?Special?Wrong,totalkaboutwhattheyhavekeptclosetotheirchestforsolong?“Odd.”
“Maybe.”Ronshrugs,drainstherestofhisbeer.“Butifitkeepsmykidsfrombeingtaughtaboutgoblinwarsinhistoryclass,thensobeit.”
Harrylaughs.Somehow,maybebecauseitwassoboring,historyclassandProfessorBinnscameoutofthewarunscathed,withnothingtotaintthosedullafternoonclasses.“He’llstillmakethemfallasleep.”
Ronsmiles,tugsonhisjacket,andlaysaheavyhandonHarry’sshoulders.“Andsoitgoes.”
Draco
He’sattheBurrow.
DracohadswornthatnomatterhowclosehegotwithHarry,nomatterhowmuchHermioneseemedtolikehim,evenifhewasfriendswithGeorge,hewouldnotsetfoothere.HedidnotwanttopicturetheplacewhereRonhadgrownup,didnotwanttobeabletofeeltheholesthatFredWeasley’sdeathhadleftinthishouse.ButwhenHarrytellshimthatthat’swherehe’sdoingtheinterview,andasksifDracowouldliketocomealong,justforsupport,hecouldn’tfinditinhimselftosayno.
Sonowhe’shere,drinkinglukewarmteafromachippedmugandlisteningasthestoryspinsout.Harry,Ron,andHermioneweresqueezedontothecouch,Percysittingacrossfromthem.Mr.andMrs.Weasley(callusMollyandArthur,dear,noneedforformalities)werewatchingitall,justlikehewas.
Therewasalottotalkabout.Dracowasn’tawarethattherewassomuch.Aboutthefirstyear,andstartingthefight.AbouttheirsecondyearandtheChamberofSecrets,howHermionefigureditoutandRonstoleLockheart’smemoryandHarryalmostdied,buttheydestroyedthefirstHorcrux.Aboutthirdyearandwormtail,fourthyearandthefirsttimethatdeathcametothem,thestartofthewar.Andthenfifthyear,aboutbattleplansanddreamsandscarsonthebacksoftheirhandsthatwon’tgoaway,anightattheministrytheywon’teverforget,aboutveilsandduelsandlyingbrainsthatbreakyourbones.
Ithadbeeneighthoursalready,andtheywereonlyonthesixthyear.
Itwasdrainingwork,butnoneofthemshowedsignsofstopping.Harrywastracingthewordswritingacrossthebackofhispalm,andRon’svoicewashoarsefromallthetalking,andHermionehadcriedsomuchitseemedlikeshewasoutoftears,butheretheywere,warriorstotheend.
ItwasDracowhobrokefirst,leavingthroughthebackdoorasquietlyashecouldmutteringaboutfreshair,allbecausehecouldnottakethisyear.Thisyearmeantcursednecklacesandpoisonedmeadandaboyshoutingacurseinthebathroomandthenblood,somuchofit,aboutanightintheastronomytowerandabodycrumplingonthecastlegroundslikealittleragdoll.Hecouldnottakethat,andbecauseheisacowardinsteadofasoldier,heleaves.
Butthenhewishesthathehadstayedinside,becausenowhewasfacetofacewithMolly,whowasstaringoutatherbackyardwithtearsslippingdownherface,justthebaresttwitchofasmileonherlips.
Hedoesnotaskherifsheisalright.Hedoesnothavethewordstofixthisforher,butMollyspeaksanyways.
“IbroughtthemupthebestasIcould.Triedtoraisegoodchildrenthatwouldbecomeevenbetterpeople,eveninthemiddleofawarItried.AndthenHarryendedthewarandIthoughttheycouldallbesafe.Iwaswrong.”Shebreaksdowncrying,andthentakesafewgulpsofairbeforecalmingdownagain.“Itriedtoraisechildrenbutendedupwithwarriorsinstead.Inevercouldquitefigureouthowthathappened.”
Dracowantstotellherthatshedidn’tdoanythingwrong.thatthefactthattheywerereadytofightshowedthatshedideverythingright,thatherchildrenwerebraveandgoodandkind,andeveryotherthingthatamotherdreamsof.Butsheknewthisalready.Thatwasnotwhathertearswerefor,buthedidnothavethewordstofixthat,soheputsahandonhershoulderandletsherleanonhimforsupportuntilhersobsweredone.
Andwhentheywereready,theywenttofacethestoryinsidetogether.
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