he’ssittingbetweengeeandharry,twotablesawayfromhermione,sowhenshegetsalleduptothepodiumbykingsley,hehastobendaroundgeetoreahoutahandtoher.shepausesjustlongenoughtoholdon,longenoughforthreesqueezes,theirlittlesignthateverythingwillbeokay,thattheywillfigureeverythingout.

voldemortwasgreat,draoadds,slightlyalmer,likethislittlepieeofoionwasallittooktosnaphisskinbakintope,tolethimstopfesifhewastoobigforhisbody.hisfatherwouldnothavebeenabletotalktopeoplelikethat,asiftheywerefriends.hisfatherwouldneverhaveknownhowgreattheywerebeausehewasblindedbyhisownbigotry.hewasgreatandhedidhorriblethingsandhemadepeoplebowdowntohimbeausetheonlyotheroptionwastodieandheneverknewwhatitwastobeloved,notreally.sometimesbeinggreatisn’tthebestthing,iftheonlymemoriesyouleavebehindaresars.

nughed,andthenppedahandonhisshoulder.“don’tgiveheranyideas.”

(ithadstartedbakwiththepotions,whenhermionewouldgettofrustratedwithnotknowingtheanswersthatsheseemedreadytothrowitalloutthewindowandletallherpotionsburntonothingbutaaustiheap.draohadn’tknownwhattosay,buthehadknownenoughtodothis.it’sbeometheirthing,eversine.)

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he’snotstaringatherlikeeveryoneelseis.they’reallwathingherwithraptattention,butdraoislookingaroundateveryoneelse,alltheothertables,soheantellherwhoughedwhenshemadethatjokeinthe

“you’regoingtobegreat.”draowhispers,inthetimeittakesforthosethreepulsestotravelfromhimtoher,one,two,three,andthensheletsgo,limbingthestairstostandbesidetheministerwithasenseofgraedraothoughtwouldbehardtomiss,eventhoughhehadmisseditforsevenlongyears.it’seasytoseewhatyouwant,whenyou’reblindedbyhate.