There’sscreamingagain,butthistime,Harrystaysinbed.
Hecountsthecracksintheceiling,discoversthatthere’sfifty-sevenofthem,andthencountsthemagain.Andagain.Hekeepstryingtotellhimselfeverythingisfine,thatnooneisattackinganyone,thatthereisnothinghidinginhisclosetorunderthebed,thatifanything,heneedstocallHermionelikeshehadtoldhimto,anythingtostopthisbeforeitstarts,becauseDracoisfine,youarefine,stopbeinganidiot.
Onlyeverythingmustnothavebeenfine,becausethedoorcreaksopenasecondlater.HarryalmosthexesthepersonstandinginthedoorwaybeforethebraincatchesupwithhispanicandherealizesthatitwasDracohewasabouttosendtoSt.Mungo’s.
“Draco?”Hesitsupandblinksagainsttheblurryimageinfrontofhim,gropinginthedarknessforhisglasses.“What’swrong?”
“Don’tsayanything.”EventhoughHarryhadhearditeveryday,hestillwasn’tusedtothispleadingtoneinDraco’svoice,howheasksinsteadofdemands,andasksitinawaythatmadeitclearhewasexpectingtobeturnedawayeachtime.“Pleasedon’tsayanything.”
“Okay.”Harrydidn’tunderstandwhathewassupposedtodo.Hedidn’tknowhowtohelpanyone,anymore.“Whatdoyouwant?”
“CanIjuststayhere?”Helookedsosmall,hunchedinonhimselfwhenheshouldbefillinguptheroom.“Justfortonight.”
“Yeah.”Harryscramblesforthelampandthenwincesatthesuddenlight,tryingtoclearaspacebesidehim.Itwasanincrediblysmallbed.“Anything.”
Anything.Itwassuchasmallword,butitmeantsomuch.Dracodidn’tseemtohavetimeforsecondthoughtstonight,justwalkedtotheedgeofthebed,hesitatingbeforegoinganyfurther.
“It’salrightDraco.”HarryreachesupandpullsDraco’shandaway,theonehehadbeenusingtoclawathisarm.“It’sgoingtobeokay.”
“Itwon’t,”Dracosays,shouldersshuddering,buthestillgetsintothebed,fallingintoitmorethanclimbing,likeithadtakenallhisstrengthjusttogetthisfar.HeburieshimselfinthecoversandturnsawayfromHarry,leavinghimtodecidehowtodothis.
Yousaidyouwerethebraveone,Harrythinks,reachinghisarmaroundDracoandhopinghewon’tbeturnedawaythistime.Yousaidyou’dbetheonetomakethiseasierforhim.
He’snotsurethatit’sgoingtoletthemsleepeasier,butithastobebettertocounteachother’sbreathsthancountcracksintheceiling.HarryjusthopesthatDracofeelsthesameway.
Chapter23
Harry
They’rebothstaringdownattheowl.
It’satightscroll,theministrysignatureembossedacrossthesealinwaxsogoldenitalmostseemstoshimmer.Neitherofthemmakeamovetobreakitopen,tooafraidofwhatmightbehidinginside—adeathnotice,anarrestwarrant,acalltoarms,ormaybeevenworse,anoticethatDracowassomehowforgivenandwouldbefreetoleaveanymomenthesochooses.InHarry’sexperience,theministryrarelybringsgoodnews.
“Doyouwanttoopenit?”Draco’svoiceishushed.They’vebothgottenquietsincethewholesleepinginthesamebedthingstarted,likenowtheydidn’tneedtoworryaboutdrawingattentiontoeachother.WheneverDracowantednoticing,Harrywasalreadylooking.
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