“no,malfoy,i’mjustheretoeatyourpanakes.”

draoslowlygnesouttowardsthegarden.“isthisthemanor?”

drao,ashehasalwaysdone

thatwasjustthegripofsomeonewhowantedtostayalive.

harryseesthemomentthatdraoonfirmsthathereallyisindeedharrypotter.

“well,you’renoteatingthem.”

draofurrowshiseyebrowsathim,andthenatthepanakesonthetable.ittakesawhileforhimtorespond,buthiseyeslearandhesays,“getyourfilthyfingersoffmypanakes.”

“yeah.”

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hisforkdropsinsurprise.flushing,helooksup.“malfoy.”

hepiksuphisfork,takesapanakefromtheservingpte,andletsitploponhisown.

andharryrealizesthatdraoremembershim,remembersalotmoreabouthim,ifhe’sgoingtogobaktooldhabitsandhisusualsnark.hefeelsunbearablyhappyatthat.

harryshrugsnervously.hefeelslikehe’sjustbeenaughtdoingsomethinghewasn’tsupposedtobedoing.hesupposesthatitisweirdtosuddenlywakeupandhaveyourlong-timeenemyinyourhouseeatingyourpanakes.“yeah.”

“oh.”

aboveandoutoftheinferno.

heturnsaway,fromdrao’ssofthairandthememoriesoffire.

thatwasn’tthegripofsomeonewhowantedtoservevoldemort.

“potter.”

butthistime,draoseemstoreonilewhathe’sseeingwithwhatever’sinhishead,andhevisiblyrexes,leaningbakonhiswheelhair.“etoobservemeinmymiserythen?”

“you’re…”malfoysquints.

andit’sthisoionagainandharry’stense,wifwhathappenedbeforewillrepeatitself.narissaisn’theretohelphimanymoreandharrywouldn’tknowwhattodo.