“ithinkiloveit.”harrybreathesout,runninghisfingersoverthesmoothoakmantleabovethefirepebeforepushingawayandirlingthroughtherestoftherooms—thediningroomwiththebigoverheadskylight,thetwobedroomsupstairs,thewindingstairaseandthetinykithen,finallypushingthroughthesreendoorandstandingoutontheporh,faingtowardstheburrowwithabiggrinonhisfae.

draogiveshimamoment,andthenfollows.hedoesn’thavetosayanything,beausethesreendoorssquealsandsqueaks,announinghispresene.itwastheonlydoor,atthemoment.draohadthoughtthatwouldmakeharryfeelbetter,theknowledgethatsomeoneouldnotsneakinwithoutsomerealeffort.

“therearemorebuildingsthatomewiththeproperty,ifyouwanttolookatthem.”draowaveshishandtoenompasstheareabehindthem,towardstheelrandtheshedandgreenhouse,apparentlyeverythingthatoneouldneedforproperountrylife.itisn’treallyhisstyle,butdraoouldgetusedtoit.wasalreadygettingusedtoit,ifhewasbeingho.“orweouldjustletthemgo,tearthemdown,itdoesn’tmatteronewebuythem.”

hedoesnotthinktwieaboutthewe.ifthisiswhereharrywanted,itwaswheredraowouldgo.

“idon’thavetolook,ialreadyknowit’sperfet,”harrysays,anditouldhavebeenperfetfordrao,too,ifhewouldhavejuststoppedtalking.“ofourse,youhavetolookatpes,too.weneedtofindsomepethatyouwanttobeat,”andsuddenly,draoouldnotbreathe,beausetheideaofgoingsomewherethatharrywasnotwasnotinthepns.

butpnshange.

draoshouldbeusedtothatbynow.

“right,”hesays,andthesmiledoesnotevenslipfromhisfae,thatishowgoodhehasbeomeatpretending.“ofourse.”

thewordsfollowhimthroughtheafternoonandmostofthenight,untilharrywasgobedtoathuponmissedsleepanddraofi

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