isshort-livedasheseesthepurplingbruiseondrao’stemple.

“whathappenedtoyourfae?”

draorexesbakinhisseatoneheseesthatit’sjustharry.hefrownsatthequestion.“itripped.”

harrylosesthedoorharderthanheintendedtoandgresathim.“don’tlie,”hesays,lipsthinningasheturnstolookbakatthebruise.

draomatheshisgrewithhisown.“i’mnotlying.”

“there’safukingbruiseonyourfae,malfoy.”

“iknow.ianfeelit.”

“whathappened?”

“itoldyou,itripped.”

“malfoy—”

drao’sbodyjerksforwardinhisseatandhisfistsmsdownonthewindowsill.“it’safukingtripjinx,potter!whatdidyouexpet?!ex-deatheateromesbaktohogwartsandgetsastandingovationfromthestudentbody?!”

harryisstunnedatthesuddenoutburst,anditdoesalotforhimtopulltheleverdownonhistemper.

draolikshistongue,irritatedathimselfforlosingontrol,andturnshisheadaway.hesagsbakinhisseat.

slowly,harrysitsdownarossfromhim.hestaresatthebruise.“whowasit?”

“don’tbotheryourprettylittleheadoverit,”draosoffs,wavingaondesendinghand.“it’sunbeomingofthesaviourofthewizardingworldtobesoonernedovermethatyou’dthreatenaniivilian.”

“i’mnotgoingtothreatenthem,”harrysaysindefene.“just…talktothem.”

draolooksathim,anexasperatedexpressiononhisfae.“inathreateningway?”