“beauseit’sallbolloks!”

“idon’tknowwhattothinkanymore,”draoyelled.“ian’ttrustyou!”

“drao,i’mtellingyou,thishasnothing—”

“what,then?”

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“what?”

“drao,”lunasaidwithasigh.“he’ssuffering.”

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“you’rejusttryingtomakesomethingup,soi’llsleepwithyou.”

potter’seyeswidened,hisfaetwistinginhorror.“youreallythinki’dbeapableofthat?”

potterhesitated,fumblingwiththehemofhisjumper.“it’snotthateasyformetosay,”hemumbled.

“what?”

whenlunahadinvitedhimoverfortea,hehadn’tthoughtmuhofit.butnow,afteronlyfiveminutesofsittingdownwithherinherroom,itwasprettylearshehadanagenda.

“andhaveyoueverthoughtaboutwhythatis?”

listionme!youwouldn’thavelistenedtoawordisaid!you’renotlisteningnow!”

“youknowwhat,ifyoureallythinki’mthatkindofperson,ian’ttrustyoueither.”

“beauseit’snotreal.”

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“so?i’msuffering,too.”

thelovegood’shomewassuhapeuliarpe.draowassurprisedwhenhefoundoutlunastilllivedwithherfather.ontheotherhand,itmadesense,sheywererunningthequibblertogethernow.

“great,it’sfinallysettledthen,”draohissed.“oh,andbytheway,i’mkeepingyourheque,forthehildren.butyouandi,we’redone!”heaughtonestglimpseofpotterbeforehesteppedintothefirepeagainandimmediatelywishedhehadn’t.itmadehisheartsqueezepainfullytoseesomuhhurtinhiseyes,buttherewasnootherway.potterhadhurthimtoomuh.therewasnoexuseintheworldthatwouldevermakeupforit.

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“i’mnottalkingtopotter,”hesaid,traingtherimofhisupwithhisthumb.“there’snothingyouansaythatwill—”

wednesday,23july2003