raoasked.hewathedarefullyaspotterbithislip.healmostlookedlikeahild,whohadbeenaskedtoeatalltheirvegetables.hismouthwasinatightlinewhileheslowlyutintothesteak.thebitehetookwassotiny,draowonderedwhyhebotheredhewing.drinkinginhisstrainedexpression,draodeidednottoommentonitandturnedhisattentiontohisownmealinstead.still,potter’sbehaviourwas…odd.hehadbarelysaidawordsheyhadenteredtherestaurant.

theyontinuedeatinginsileneandwhenthewaiterametolearthetable,draonotiedthatpotterhadbarelyeatenhalfofhismeal.

“so,wherearewegoingfordrinks?”draoaskedastheysteppedoutoftherestaurant.

“atually…”potterhesitated,shovinghishandsintohisoatpokets.“i’m—i’mnotfeelingsogood.”

“oh.”

“wouldyoumindifwegoanothertime?”

draokepthisfeaturesimpassive,eventhoughdisappoibubbledupinsidehim.“ofourse.”

“thanks,”pottermutteredandturnedonhisheels.“i’llowlyou!”

draolookedafterhim,fbbergasted.whatthefukhadjusthappened?ithadbeenpotter’sideatogoout!sowhydiddraofeellikehehadjustbeendumped?hadpotterhangedhismindaboutbeingfriends?haddraodonesomething?andsinewhenwashequestioninghimselflikeathirteen-year-old?ugh,potterouldgofukhimself.thiswasjustanotherreasonwhydraoshouldhavestayedawayfromhim.

friday,10january2003

drao,i’msorryabouttheothernight.