Still, it was differe was just Drao, where he ould make as many mistakes as he wa ahiake up the whole kithen, and didraurnio a Warbek. When Harry was here, it was like he athing. Drao felt his eyes on him, like a tikle right between his shoulder bdes.
& ask him why he was here. Clearly, the oion of st night had not been dru something that he had been mulling over for a while. And Drao had meaold him that maybe it was time he lear was like to be just Harry. He wasn’t about to hase him out of his own kitheopped it from happening.
&ail Drao is satisfied that the panakes are dohe doles them out oing down aross the table from him. He’s almost nervous, sitting there, aell that Harry is too.
& my resignation out with m post.” Harry talks around a mouthful of food, hidihe paper, like that ould make this less important, less life altering. “Should have got it by now.”
Drao didn’t really know what to do with that, but the sik part of him in the bak of his head that wao keep Harry all to himself made his breathing ath. Home. Safe. Mihat’s wasn’t right. Harry would his pe would not be a home no matter how muh Drao lea, and Harry w to him. Would o belong to him.
“Good.” It Drao says is a me respoh all these revetions Harry keeps dumping on him. “Have another panake.”
Harry
& feel guilty about it, exatly.
&he thought of not wanting to be an auror ourred to him a while ago, before Drao eveay, ohe nights where he ing through his own home, lookihat weren’t possible. He had heked the loks three times, had Kreaher se awie and ouldn’t stomah the thought of asking again. Ahat if this kept going, he was going to turn into the person Mad-Eye Moody was before the seond war, the kihought was razy beause he ould the fight.
Harry didn’t want that. He wao find some peae, if just for a little while.
&hing he does feel guilty about is leaving Ron behiold sent him an owl st he drinkielli be into work tomorrow. Then he asked if he would meet for lued to talk about some things. But it turns out that Drao took are of all the talking and w through things, and all that was left for Harry to o.
Ron’s beehihe war ended, beause Hermione had one been inonsoble whe ome home on time. She had thought that he had been take at the end of things. Ron didn’t bme her, so ual.
For one, Harry hates him. There’s half a moment as Ron says hi and unwinds the sarf from his Harry waurn and run when Ron has his bak turo pe his order. But he doesn’t.
“So ?” Ron looks ohey’ve all learle with o Ron is still more likely to throunh for you then be a shoulder to ry on.
(Holy, Ronald, you’re a wizard, Hermioold him, the st time she was mending his broke’d go better for you if you’d remember your wand.)
It’s the uts Harry. They had been in this together, frihey sat dowhe same traihey started this lether, and now Harry was tryi off early. But he had to. “I’ve got something to tell yot his eyebrows raised, and Harry knows that whatever he thinks he will hear , it will his. “I quit the aurram.”
&ion is not as loud as Harry had beei as a good sign that Ron leans aross the table to whisper-yell into his fae instead of flippiable. Maybe it was the shok. “What?” A blink, and then a smile, like he ing that Harry was joking. “Why?”
“I don’t know.” He raises his hahat might draw attentiohem ft oable. “I he hao hoose, you know? None of us did. We just got thrust i.”
Ron did. He was all ahis was the only thing he knew. “So?”
“So, maybe I don’t want to fight.”
“What do you want to do instead?”
Ron isn’t angry. He l, like he khis was only a matter of time. It validates Harry’s deisiohihat Ron did hink that this was a bad idea. “Nothing. I don’t wahing right so lohe e, that I o figure out what I would have wao do, give was fight or die.” He swallowed, hard, beause this was bringihat he would rather not think about. About a basilisk, about Quirrel’s sreams, about the first time he ever ruiio’d someone. He was a warrior, and he was a good o was do wa.”
&.” They’re food has gohem has eaten, and it is already time for R bak to the offie. “I do, Harry. And I’m gd that y to make yourself happy.” A pause. “But I’m not quitting. This really is what I want to do.”
Harry k. But he had to ask, to put the option out there. “Doired of the fight?”
Ron ughs, shakes his head, and the, and his ow of sarred letters shi Harry, bright uing of the diner. I will .
“It’s a