(Besides, if the universe was ever going to send him a sighat he was makious mistake, having a fight break out just before he ould hoke out the retty good one.)
&hiarget to small, everything beomes a pe of uainty.” Drao is still talking, still staring out the wihihey aroy, evehat doer muh, outside of what they mean to the people who are about it.”
“We should have known.” Ginny is white faed with the paio speak through gritted teeth. Luna has her side si here, her hands fluttering from her shoulders to her hair to h over where the breaks were, but it wasn’t enough. “We should have k wouldh him. There’s always somethi over.”
How ould we have known? Harry thihey all nod, grim faed with their fear aioles yet to ome. We’re kids pying at a war we don’t know how to fight.
“What’s oming will ome,” He hears himself say, beause he is the leader, always, always had that thrust upon him eve want it, ao say somethihe fear. “A it when it does.”
Chapter 27
Harry
& Harry had lived in a dormitory with our other boys for most of his life, he had had his share of moments where he walked in on someone doihey shouldn’t, or that they didn’t wao know about. Like ing in his diary that atalogues the well-being of his pnts, or whehes R the paperbak roma Hermione had inally bought for him as a joke birthday present or that oime when he walked in on Seamus and Dean kissihey were ready for ao know about.
&he protool. About how sometimes people liviill want their spae, and that the other persoimes barges in on a private moment without meaning to. That there are thi even bad things, just private things, that the other perso shout to the world. How you have to fight past the embarrassment to make your exuses ahe room, aer, you’ll both be over it.
It’s what Harry should be dht now, o figure out what Drao would be doing that he’s embarrassed about.
& was te, whih meant that he . Harry hado be awake—Harry had iay the night at Roer going out to the pub, afraid that he would be too drunk to apparate safely, but by the time the night was over, he fouill just as sober as he had beehe day began, so he ame home, anyways. “I dido .”
“No, you didn’t.” Drao said, ahed wri of the sheets instead of looking him ily beause they both k he was lying. The only reason Drao had woken up was beause Harry had tripped over a pile of books when he walked ihem all tumbling to the floor, him along with them. The noise had sared Drao so bad Harry just ounted himself luky he hadn’t bee are you doing home?”
“Was as I eting.” Harry tried to smile, but he ouldn’t, beause somethiely wrong. It sort of felt like how Harry eted the tension to be if he had ever aught someoing on him, whih is a weird omparisohere was her any agreed upon romanti attahment or ahe room. “Thought I’d ome up here.”
&ay over but then I was strethed out on their ouh with its lumpy ushiohat there was no way that I ould fall asleep, not without the sound to assure me that everything was okay, that we were safe. I thought that you felt the same way. I thought you’d be happy to have me bak fht. You told me that this helps you sleep, too, or was that just something to make me feel better?
“Yeah.” Drao still wasn’t movi like he always did. He was just sittiaring. “Good. Great.”
It takes an embarrassingly long time fet it. Time where he thinks about how this was all about him, all from some fault he did not know he had, a he had akes him through hanging his lothes and brushih and washing his hao feel the old water run over his wrists uurns bak to the bed a something was different.
Dra a short sleeve shirt.
& alone should anything. It’s weird, nos to think about it, that he had never seen his roommate in a short sleeve shirt before, now that it is appr and the house gets uuffy. That he would hoose to be ompletely overed when he s himself arets buried uhe overs.
(This is ohose moments where he an hear Hermione’s voie in his head, moaning on about boys and how impossibly obtuse you are, Harry, I a ahe eme of a tablespoon, Harry, whih is better than Ron but not by muh.)
& for the first time duriogether, Harry ahe dark mark.
&o at like everything is normal. He limbs into bed, pulls up the overs, turns so he is lying with his head propped up on Drao’s shoulder. Tries to prete staring at the shadow of it against Drao’s skin.
“I just.” There’s a franti sramble where he tries to free himself from the overs and twists to grab the old jumped fluhe desk hair. It’s one of Harry’s, one Mrs. Weasley made him for the Christmas of his fourth year, the ohe dragon on it. The sleeves are fraying and the olors dull, but it’s gon