“ah.”harryjumpsupontotheounter,anddraoleansintohim.healmostdoesn’tnotiewhenhishandgoesupintodrao’shair,ardingthroughit.evenwhenhedoesnotie,hedoesn’tstop.“soitakeitthingsdidn’tgoaswesyouwerehoping?”

likinghiswoundsonhisown,anditneverourshimtousemagi.draoouldprobablygetridofthepaininamoment,butheistoonietoturndownharry’shelp,sohejuststaresathishandindismayandthenaeptsthemakeshiftiepak.

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“ithoughtitwaspster.thatmyhandwouldgorightthroughit,”hewines,ursesagain,andthenthrowstheraginthesink,keepingoneieubetorunoverhisknukles.“andtheniouldjustrepairit.”

draoisstilltalking.“butyouan’thelpme,anyou?”thewordsutharryapart,beauseheneverwantsthattobethease,thatdraoishurtingandharrybelefthelpless.“youwouldn’tdoadamnthingaboutit,evenifyouould.”

hehadn’t.harryknewhehadn’t.ormaybe(anditwashorriblethatthiswasthefirsttimethatharryhadthisthought)hehadbeengoingtoseehimandjustnottellinganyone,beausewhowouldgiveupontheirfather,nomatterhowhorrible?

“andsheaskedmetohelphim.”draowasbitinghisnails,whihwasabadsign.“askedtogetyoutohelphim.”

“and?”

“theydid.”drao’svoiewasverysurly.“andthensheaskedifihadbeentoseemyfather.”

draodoesn’tsayanything,beausenowheisthinkingofthatnightinthegraveyard,whenallthemasksstareddownathimandluiusfetvoldemort’sfeet.

“hewasmydad.”draosaid,miserably,rippingathisnailsnow,andhishandswereb

“hetriedtokillme.”harrytriestomakehisvoieasgentleashean,buthefaltersonthestword.hedoesnotknowhowtomakedraouandthehatethatwasinhisfatherwithoutbeingruel,ortotellhimthatheouldnotexusethat,evenforhim.“hemighthavebeenagoodperson,buthewaswrong.”