“harry.”

drao’seyesaresad,andharrydidn’twantthat,thatwastheexatoppositeofwhathewanted.“imean,”heforesaugh.“whatkindofpretentiousassholebuildsahouselikethisandthinks,yes,i’mgoingtoneedtoholdsomeprisonersaptiveforabit,betterbuildanoldfashioneddungeon?”

“itwasaveryoldhouse.”apparentlytheywerepyingtheirgameofpretendingthateverythingwasfine.“maybethatwasthefashionbakthen.”

“thefashion?”

“yeah,youknow,like…”hewasastingaroundforwords,foranydistration.“likethepointlessnessofyourunle’sfakefirepe?likethatkindofthing.”

harrysnorted,andmaybethereminderofhisunleandthememoriesinthisroomanelledeahotherout,beausesuddenlyhefeltbetter.twoivesmakingapositive.

“it’sugly,whateveritwas.”hereahesoutahandtodraoandisrelievedwhenhetookit.“let’sgetoutofhere.”

drao

maybehehadn’tthoughtthisthrough.

itwouldhavebeenhingtoomehereonhisown,putthingsbakinorder,trytogetitreadytobehabitableagain.itwasquiteanothertobringharryhere,harrywhohadalmostdiedhere,whowasheldaptiveandlistenedtohisbestfriendbetortured,whoesapedwithseondstospare,whihdraopaidthepriefor.therewasenoughbadmemorieswithoutmakingharrywanttopunhhimwitheveryturnofthehouse.

“youneedtogoanywhereelse?”harryappearedathisshoulderlikehewaspoppingoutofthinair,hisvoiesolouddraohalfexpetedthedusttofallfromtheeiling.nothinghappens,exeptsomeratssurryawayfromthem,anddraofeelssik.

“no.”hehearshimselfsayitbutdoesn’trememberdeidingto.therinhisearswastooloud.“ijustneedsomeair.”

hepushesawayfromhimandoutwhatusedtobeawindowbutisnowjustarumblingholeinthewall.hetripsoverahunkofmarblebutkeepsgoing,outintoth

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