hehotel,andtothefarthestleftoftheboard,aphotoofanolderwomanbeledgertrudelokhart.

“thisisn’tbadwork,”ronsaidabsentmindedly.whenherealizedhe’dsaiditoutloud,hesppedahandoverhismouth.

harryturnedaroundintimetoseemalfoy’slipquirk.“thankyou,weasley.”hisgreyeyesflittedtoharry.“ihadhelp.”harrygavehimaquestioninglook.malfoystaredathisappleandasked,“didyouhaveaprodutivevisitatthedmle?”

harryalmosthoked.“i’msorry?”

“youmetwiththeiigatorsonbertrie’sase,didyounot?”

“how—”

“evenifihadn’treognisedyouthemomentifirstsawyou,you’rewearingtheexatlothesyouhadonearlierthism.theonlythingthat’shangedistheabseneofthoseawfuldisguiseharms,ofwhihiameverthankful.it’shardtoadmittherewassomethingworsethanyouratualfae,buthereweare.”

hermiookaseatinoneofthearmhairs,staringatmalfoywithwide,bzingeyes.harryouldn’tgaugetheemotion.wasitanger?itlookedlikesomethinglosertoexpetany.hermionesatbakandsettledintothehair,“andyet,youallowedthepretensetoontinue.why?”

malfoytensed.

“hangon—”harrysteppedforward.“youdidn’tthinkitwasoddthatiwasindisguisewasahotelporter?”

“ifyouhadn’tnotied,potter,thereisn’tasinglethingaboutthisasethatisn’tanoddbutoordinatedobfusation.”