“you ould at least use a hover charm—”
“i’m aware of that, and i will use a harm if and only if i need one. whih i don’t.”
harry trails along after him, empty-handed, as drao makes a perilous trip, swaying, down two flights of steps into the dungeons. he hooses ay ssroom he oake potions, kiks it open, and fihe books down.
& of breath and trying, very poorly, to hide it.
“you’re…still here…potter?” drao says, feigning surprise while trying visibly not to gasp for air. he’s flushed, and there’s a light shee on his forehead; his te olr is askew, sliding almost all the way off one shoulder, and harry ahe tip of the setumsempra sar peekiop of his shirt. he hates the sight of it, but it reminds him not to lose his temper antihiill…desperate for my attention…are you?”
&heti i an’t even be angry, harry thinks.
&old me y hanahaki,” says harry, “that y for a ure.”
“there is no ure,” drao says. “i’m not looking for one. i’m going to make one.”
“how?” harry asks.
“i’m w on that.”
“ah.” harry suffs the toe of his shoe agaione floor. “bet it would go faster if you had someoo help yh those books.”
“are you ?” drao says, like he fully expets the ao be no, but harry nods. “why would you do that?” he appears genuinely baffled, b on suspiious.
“erm, well,” says harry, “i’m worried about your mum.”
& pnned on saying that. it’s barely true.
“exuse me?” says drao, ftly.
“you heard what i said at her trial,” says harry, deiding to stik with his story. “i would’ve died if not for her. she defied voldemort for you. it would be beyond unfair for her to lose you his.”
drao’s expression is bnk, his lips pressed thin, his eyes even and unblinki harry. it’s the way he looks wheihought, a to betray his emotions.
“if y to stay,” drao says at st, “you’ll o follow my instrutions arefully, so we don’t miss anything important.”
“you’ve been waiting all your life to boss me arou you?” harry says heerfully, and drao almost smiles.
researhing with drao is not at all like studying with his friends. drao has hermioamina and unassaible fous wheo long h, but he likes to talk. i help himself. that first afterher, drao mao maintain a hilly silene for all of ten minutes before he starts hattering.
&alks about…a lot of things. maio use harry as a sounding board for his ideas, all the theories he’s trying th in his head before he puts them to paper. drao still migrates all over the astle to work, but resent they speime holed up inside aime wahe grounds. there is o by the ke— under a bowed tree with bra fan out expaing a shadow over shore ahe wide brim of a hat—whih harry starts to think of as “theirs.”
distressingly enough, harry also beomes drao’s b assistao experiment ohih a potioells harry firmly. “you just have to fi one.”
and by “find” he means “i.”
&h of bezoars on hand—“there are dozens here, how did you get so maer. money is always the aakes ions.
“erm,” harry asks one, early on, “do slughorn or pomfrey khis?”
“of ourse op me,” drao says, and hugs a lime green onotio rid him of the flowers but leaves him pukihing else in his stomah for the few hours. he bezoar stays down; his body stages a full-on mutiny and leaves drao ohe bathroom for most of the evening. harry misses diand awkwardly outside his stall—drao refuses to let him in.
“do you need aer?” he alls.
“just go aotter,” drao moans, piteously. harry rolls his eyes. he an’t tell if drao’s more upset about the vomiti there’s a witness.
“i’m not going to leave you like this,” harry says. drao’s sileo that, has a startled quality that makes harry want to blush harder than any number of siines or love potios ever ould’ve dohroat. “anyway, must be hrow up somethihan flowers for o while it sts.”
&, you bloody—” the words ut off i reth. harry sighs and sits down with his bak agaio wait drao out.
drao had giveo live, but he disproves his nosis. his ondition pteaus. he doester, and his symptoms ould take a turn for the arning, but before harry knows it, a assed, then two, and drao’s still breathing. when harry’s not in ss or with the da, he’s with drao, and helping him is not the hore he thought it would be, not even when drao rolls up his sleeves and harry is ohe faded dark mark on his arm. this drao is not the same boy who took that mark. his insults have lost their ruel bite; it’s easy for harry to snark bak at him, or simply to ugh aluments are eve—fun. in other ways, drao is all from the brew up aloalks with his haill exaggerates to the point of lyihinks it’ll make for a better story. he still makes a drama out , inluding the gossip he shares from slytherin house, and he is areful only tossip