draolooksathimwearily,asifhe’sweighingwhetherheshouldagreetoengageiniviloionwithhim.intheend,hesighsandtalks.“it’s…hazy.butistillknowwhat’shappening.sometimes.don’tthinkididn’tseeyouwipingmyfaelikeahild,potter.don’teverdothatagain.”

draomakesitthroughhalfofhispte,beforetheforkslipsfromhisfingersandnksloudlyonthemarblefloorofhisbalony,andharrylooksupathim,readytoaskifheshouldgetitforhim,butdrao’sgoneagain.

buthewipesthesyrupoffofdrao’smouthanyway,andhisarm,andthensearhesforhiswandinhispokettoharmdrao’slotheslean.

it’sdefinitelyweird,takingareofdraomalfoy.

hisgazeisvaant,staringbnklyathispte.

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“thepanakesweren’t

“shouldihavejustleftthesyruponyourfae?”

or,well,heisn’treallysupposedtobetakingareofdraomalfoy.he’sjustreallyheretokeephimompany,avoidthemediawhilehe’satit,andeatthebreakfastthatmalfoydoesn’teat.

harrystandsupbeforethesqueezingpaininhishestansettle,andhegoesaroundthetablesoheanpikuptheforkneardrao’sfeet.

“whatdoyoumeanyoudidn’tleave?”harryaskstwentyminutesterwhendrao’sbakandthepanakesandthemessonthetablehaddisappearedwithapop.twosteamingmugsofteahaverepedthem.

draosnorts.“youshouldhavejustleft,period.”

onhiswayup,hegnesatdrao’sfae.thereisnoreognition,nolife,butthereissyrupattheornerofhismouth.

harrysighsandreahesforanapkin.“you’retheonewhoshouldwipethesyrupoffyourfae,”hemuttersandgentlydabsatdrao’sheek.

tharryrespetfullylooksawayfromthat,too.