enmoreglorious.

“areyoutellingme…”heswallowed,fistinghishandintothetableloth.“areyoutellingmetheystarvedyou?”

potterbithislip.helookedunomfortable.“iwouldn’tsay‘starved’.they…”hesighed.“myauntgavemeenough…to…”

towhat?survive?thiswaseous!drao’svisionblurredashisstomahtwistedpainfully.suddenly,somanylittlethingshehadn’tponderedonwhentheyhadbeenathogwartsmadesomuhsenseinlightofthatrevetion.

draohadalwaysbeenskinnyhimselfandheouldbasiallyeatwhathewantedwithoutgaininganyweight,sohehadn’tthoughtanythingofpotter’sslimfigure.butnowthathethoughtaboutit,hehadlookeduhilyskinnyintheirfirstyear.draorememberedhisdisgustwhenhehadwathedpotterdevourhisfoodinthegreathall.hehadsimplythoughtthepratkedpropermanners.butnow…nowonderpotterhadbeensofixatedonfood.draoballedhishandsintofistsaroundhisutlery.thosedamnedmuggleshadstarvedhim.

“whatthe—”potterletoutayellinsurpriseasthewinebottleburstintoathousandpiees.therewasredwineeverywhere.draowasstillfloodedwithanger,barelynotiingthatpotterwastalkingtohim.

“didyoujust—wasthatyou?again?”

draodidn’tanswer,tryingnottobreakanythingelseinhisrage.potterseemedtonotiehowtensehewas,movingdeliberatelyslowashereahedforhiswand.withaquikflik,theshardsandthespilledwineweregone.

“there’sstillwineonyourlothes,”pottersaidquietly.hisfaewasunreadable,buttherewassomethingaboutthewayhewaslookingatdraothatgavetheimpressionhewasexperieningafloodofemotions.

“whatever,”draomuttered.beforeheouldgrabhiswand,potterspokeagain.