arryforsupport,andevenwitheverything,hestillhastimetowonderhowtheyaren’tdatingyet.“idon’twantto.like,ianimaginenothingmorelikelytomakemewanttostabmyeyeballsout.”

“oh.”

yeah.oh.“ithoughti’dwalkinhereandfixitupandwhentheyearended,i’domebakherewithmotherandeverythingwouldbethesame.butit’snotthesame.nothingis.notyou,notmyfamily,notthishouse.anddefinitelynotme.”

they’rebothquietforamoment.

“movingonisn’tsobad.buthangingonisn’tompletelyterrible,either.”harrystoodup,andtheyfaedthatrumblingpetogether,ahousethatheannolongerallhishome.“wedon’thavetodeidenow.”

“iwanttoburnitdown.”draodeides,andhefeelsbetterwithapn.“buildsomethingelseinhispe.somewherehenevertouhed.”

“orweouldkeepit.justneedsalittletlbsp;harrygrinsdownathim,makingdraonotieforthefirsttimethathewasoffiiallytheshorterone.“butwhateverwe—you—deide,i’llbethereeverystepoftheway.youwon’tbedoingitalone.”

“together,huh?”they’vestillgottheirhandslinkedtogether.“ilikethesoundofthat.”

“yeah.”harrysqueezeshishand,andtheyareoff,pikingtheirwaythroughthetallgrass,goinghome,eventhoughsuddenly,draowantstostay.toshowhimthebalonythatlethimlookoutovertheoldwood,totakehimouttotheoldfountain,showhimthetreehousethatdobbyhadmagikedtogetherforhissixthbirthday.thegoodthings,buttherewouldbetimeforthatter.

chapter24

harry