AndDraoutshimoff,beausehe’sreadyforthis,he’sbeenreadywiththesewordsforsolong,andhejustneedstotry,onesttime.“I’mnotsomeoneyoushouldbefriendswith,Potter.”
“Malfoy.”Pottersays,likeawarning.“You’restartingwiththatrapagain.”
“It’snotrap,”Draoaffirms.Heanfeelthewellofemotionsrisingupagain,theshame,theguilt,andtheneedtoesapefromit,andit’smakingtheedgesofhisvisiongodark.Heinhalessharply,strugglestokeephimselfhere.“It’s…Peopleareobviouslygoingtotalk,youknow.Thisisn’tgoingtobethesttime,andthere’sreallynothingelsethattheyansayaboutmethathasn’talreadybeensaid,butyou—you’regoingtogettheworstofit.HarryPotterbeingfriendswithanex-DeathEater,someonewho’salittleinsane—”
Ahandlosesaroundhisfingers,gripsthemtightandfirm.Draopullshimselfbak,fightshiswaybakfromtheomfortabledarknessinhishead,towardsthegrounding,exhiratingrealityofthehandholdinghis.
Whenhereturns,ompletelyreturns,Potter’ssittingonhisbed,stillholdinghishand,andlookingstraightathim.
“Idon’treallyareaboutwhatHarryPotterthosepeopleareimagining,”Potterismurmuring.“ThisHarryPotterwantstobefriendswiththatex-DeathEater,someonewho’salittleinsane.”
Draohukles,smilesathimweakly.“Sazar,Potter,youdidn’thavetoagreewiththeinsanepart.”
Pottersmilesbakathim.“Yourwords,notmine.Andlook.Youfoughtitoff,didn’tyou?”
Hedid.Hedid.Andhedoesn’tknowifit’sbeauseit’sthefirsttimehe’smanagedtostophimselffromfallingintherabbitholehismindhasmade,orifit’sbeauseoftheprideinPotter’seyesashelooksathim,orPotterwantingtostaywithhim,thathefindshiseyesbeomingwarm.
“Yeah.”Hisvoieisshaking.“Thanks.”
Potterstillhasn’tletgoofhishand.“Wellthen,hasitonvinedyou?”
It’smakingDraohaveahardtimeorating.“What?”
“Havethelettersonvinedyoutoleavemealone?”
AndPotter’stoolose,toonear,andthereisatraitoroushoperawlinguphisstomahandswellinginhishestatPotter’sproximity,hiswords,thewayhe’slookingathim.“No.”
“I’mgd.”There’sarinkleattheornerofPotter’seyeswhenhesmiles,andDraohatesit,asmuhashehatesthewayPotter’sthumbisslowlytraingirlesagainsthispalm.ThereispinkPotter’sheeksandhehatesthat,too.“I,err,IsupposethisisagoodtimetotellyouthatIdon’thaveexatlyiiionsin,uhm,beingfriendswithyou.”
Andit’slikeablowtothehest.Draoughs,stunnedandbreathless,andhedukshishead,triestostopthewelloftearsfromfalling.
“Stop.Stop,”hesays,voietrembling.“Youdon’tgettosayitfirst.”
Thethumbstops.ThereisonfusioninPotter’svoie.“What?”
DraogripsPotter’shandbak.Itfeelsright,Potter’shandinhis.“Givemeamoment,”hesays,andit’salmostaplea.Hedoesn’twanttheirfirstkisstotasteliketears.Hetakesadeep,shakyinhale,andmustersthee.“GivemeamomentandthenI’llkissyou.”
Asharpintakeofbreath.Andthenanausatory“…Youdon’tsaythatandexpetmetowaitamoment.”
AndDraoughsagain,giddyandwarm,andhewipeshiseyeswithhisotherhand,theonehitbythehex,anditstillhurts,thatone,butit’snothingomparedtofinally,finallygettingthis.
“Goddamn,Potter,youreallyhavenopatiene.”
AndheswallowsallthehesitationdownhisthroatandpullsPotterdownforakiss.
DearHarry,
sidermesurprisedtoseeapitureofyouandmysoninanalleywayinHogsmeade.
Iamwritingtospareyouthesufferingofwaboutmythoughtsonthematter.
Iwouldloveitifyououldjoinusfortheholidays.
Love,
Narissa
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