“Thenwhyareyouleaving?”
Hereyesarekind,andheisthepersonthatshesoughtoutjustbecausehedidnotstareatherscars,andthisgirlwhousedtoturnheadseverywhereshewenthasnowchosentohideherselfinthedarkestplaceshecanfind,soDracofindshimselftellingher,abouteverything,howhedoesn’tbelongandhowheisforeverindebtedtoHarryandtheoffhandcommentsthatHarrymakes,howheisnotsurewherethelimitsareorwhatlinesheiscrossingorifheisexpectedtogo.“AndI’mterrified,”Heendswith,cursinghimselffromsayingsomuchtothisgirlhebarelyevenknows,butatleastsheisnotthinkingaboutthestaresorherskinorthewar,justhimandhistroubles.“Terrifiedthathedoesn’twantme,still,thatIreadthisallwrong,andIcan’tevenaskhim,becauseI’mscaredtheanswerisno.”
“Soit’sbettertorunaway?”
“It’sbettertobetheonewholeaves.”Thewordsareringinghollow,buttheyaretrue,heknowsit.“Leavebeforeyoucangetleft.”
“It’snotmyplace,”Shesays,justlikeeveryotherpersonwhogivesadvicewithoutbeingasked.“Buthelovesyou.Iknowhelovesyou,becauseI’vewatchedhim,watchedthepeoplethathecaresabout,andhelooksatthemallthesameway,likehewouldburnawayanythinginhispathtogettoyou.Andwhenamanlovesyoulikethat,he’snotgoingtowanttoleaveyoubehindforanythingintheworld.”Lavenderreachesacrossthetable,andsheissomuchsmarterthanheremembersfromHogwarts.“There’snothingforyoutobeafraidof.”
“Butthere’ssomuchlefttolose,whenyouknowwhatit’slikeforsomeonetoloveyoulikethat.”Dracosaid,thewordscrackinginhismouth,blisteringhistongueashesaysthem.“It’llburnyouup.”
“Trustme.”Herlefthandreachesupherrightarmandtracesthescarswrappingaroundher,likeshehadthemmemorizedthem.“Thereareworsewaystogo.”
It’sanotherhourbeforehefindshiswaybacktoHarry.
“Dancewithme.”HedragsDracotohim,outontothedancefloor.
“It’snotaslowsong.”Dracolaughs,buthestillwantstositdown,becausethisnighthasbeenexhausting.“Andyousaidyouhateanyothertype.”
“Itsoundslikeaslowsongtome.”Itwasn’taslowsong.Itwasheavymetal.Ginnywasthreefeetawayfromthemandactuallyheadbanging,withLunaswayingbesideher,avaguelybemusedexpressiononherface.“Idon’tknowwhatyou’relisteningto.”
Helovesme,Dracothinks,andherethetwoofthemare,slowdancinginthisroom,andit’sliketherestofthebuildingisfallingaway,burningaway,LunaandGinnyandtherestdisappearingbecausetheyjustdon’tmatter,really,onlythetwoofthemdo.
“Areyoualright?”Harrylooksconcerned.“Or,Imean,arewealright?BecauseLunasaidthatyouseemsad,andI’velearnedthatLunaisnormallyrightaboutthings.”
DracothinksaboutthehouseinLondon,abouttheworrythat’smadeahomeinhisstomach.Hethinksabouthowheisafraidtoleavewhatheiscomfortablewith,howGrimmauldPlacewasnotahomebutitfeelsliketheirs,liketheybothhaveanequalshare.HethinksabouthowworriedheisthathewillalwaysbeinHarry’sdebt,nomatterhowmuchtheyloveeachother,becauseyoucannotbesavedbysomeoneandnotfeelabitlikeyoumustmakeituptotheminanywayyoucan,andhowmuchhedoesnotwantthathangingoverhisheadfortherestofhislife.
ButhealsothinksaboutLavender,abouttheirscars,herinsistencethattheirsisaburninglove,thatthereareworsewaystogothanoutinaflashoffireandmaybehowitisworthit,thatthey’llgetpastthosethings,becausetheyloveeachotherandmaybeitsstrongerthanthismessthattheworldhasleftthemin.
(Maybe.Mostlikely.Butthathadnotmatteredthenightbefore,whenhepackedallhisclotheswithawaveofhiswandandgotreadytosneakoutofthehousewithoutwarningjustbecauseitwouldhurtless,buthecouldonlygethalfwaydownthestairsbeforeheturnedaroundandcrawledbackintobed,shouldersheavingwithsilentsobs,hottearsstreamingdownhisfaceanddrippingdownintothesheets.)
“OfcourseIam.”HeknotshisfingersinthefabricofHarry’sshirt.“We’regolden.”
Chapter39
Harry
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