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“it’stheonlythingi’mgoodat.”draosays,hisvoiejustamurmur.he’sgothishandstukedunderhharry’ssuitjaket,andnowthereistheonlythinfabriofhisdressshirtseparatingtheirskin.“iusedtothinkthatitwasimportant.”

“notme.theylovetheboywholived.”harrydidn’twanttothinkaboutthat.tonightwasagoodnight.“theydon’tevenknowwhoiam.”

“ido.”draoseemsonthevergeofsomething.“iknowyou.and—”hefalters,andharryanfeelhisfingersflutter,justatinyshakeagainsthisshirt,likethebeatingofabutterfly.“you’reimportanttome.youknow

“youreallyaregoodatthis.”harry’swhisperingintohisear,afraidofsomeoneoverhearingbutunwillingtoletitgounsaid.“makingpeopleseethingsyourway.makingthemseeyou.”

ostinthemusi.theystaytogetherforonesongandthenanother,longenoughforharrytolearnexatlyhowmuhshorterdraoisthanhim(afathekeepsfetting)andmemorizetheysentofhisologne,theoneheonlywearswhenheistryingtoimpress.heathessightofseamusanddeantogetherarosstheroom,urvedaroundeahother,andwhentheyrotatetofaeeahotheragain,harryanseeseamusfshingathumbsup.he’snotsureiftheyapproveofhishoies,buttheyallseemgdthathe’sfoundaguy,evenifthatguyisaslytherin.heonlywisheddraowouldfeelthesameway.

“notasimportantasyou.”draowaslookingupathimfrombehhiseyeshes,andharryhadnevernotiedhowlongtheywerebefore.therewerealotofthingshehadnevernotied,andallofthemaresuddenlyinformationhean’tbelievethathehadmissedforsolong.“theyallloveyou.”

“itwas.”harryswalloweddowntheotherthingshewantedtosay,abouthowgdhewasthatdraowashere,abouthowbeautifuldraowas,abouthowhewouldtakethemhomerightthisminuteandjustkeeping,turningaroundinthelivingroom.“savedmylifetonight.”