thekneazleputitspawsonluna’skneeandstaredupather.

“i’msureheknewyoudidn’thatehim,”lunapetbertie’shead.“wealwayssaythingswedon’tmeanwhenwe’reangry,”shelookedupatpansy,“orsared.”

luna’swordshitpansylikeagustofpainfulfiveness,andthefloodgatesthathadbeenholdingbakallhershameandguiltsheendofthewaropened.shebrokedown,anditwasinfrontofloonylovegoodandthesoulofhergoddaughtertrappedinakneazle,forsazar’ssake.thethoughtofitmadeherughforabriefmomentbetweenthetearsandthesobs.itwasfreeing.pansyrealizedshe’dbeenarryingtoomuhofthepastinsideher.ithadbeenweighingherdown,distratingherfromthethingsthatreallymattered.crityfeltlikeflying.

bythetimeshe’dolletedherself,she’dfiguredouthowtheyweregoingtogetbertriebakinherownbody.neverdowhattheyexpet.itwasherownadvie,andshepnnedonfollowingit.

“feelbetter?”lunafinallyasked.she’durleduponthesofawithoneoflongbottom’sbooks,bertiesnuggledupinherp.

pansywipedherfae.“yes,”shenodded.“andi’vehadathought.what’sthebestwaytoathtinselgnats?”

draoonvinedharrytoapparatewithhimtomarwanzivantus’homeintheoutskirtsofedinburgh.herealizedhe’dstartedthinkingofhimasjustharry,andsupposeditmightbeasymptomofthetimetravel.ormaybeasymptomofhavinghimpressedlose.ormaybe—itwas“drao.”

“potter,”draodistratedhimself.“whenareyougoingtotakeoffthatridiulousoat?”

theothermanfurrowedhisbrow,“ithoughtyousaidpurplewasmyolor.”

draosmiled,andthenpottersmiledtoo.good,hethought.itwasbaktopotter.“ididn’twantyoutobeembarrassed.”

“youronernwarmsmyheart,”pottersaidastheywalkedtowardthergegothihomedowntheprivate,wardedne.“malfoy,”potterpointedtothedarkgsseson

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