“eahurseisdifferent,ian’tspeakforhers,butmineis—well,it’shardtoexpin.it’slikeianseefate.iseethethreadsbetweenpeople.”

potterwasquietforalongtime,buthishandremainedfirmlyedarounddrao’s.“soallthatnonsenseaboutfatehavingwovenustogether,”potterstarted.

“yououldsaythat,”wasalldraoouldbringhimselftosay.howouldhetellharry?howouldhefindthewordstoexpinthethikestthreadshe’dseenwerethefourthattetheredthemtoeahother?

potterspokeupsodraowouldn’thaveto.“isitbeauseofthease?we’remeanttodothistogether?”draoknewhisfaewasbetrayinghim.“nottheasethen.”

“turnsoutit’snotnonsense.”

tinoppositiontoyou,thenitmustmean,onsomelevel,i’mwithyou.”draowathedasharry’shestrexed,shiftingtosomethingrhythmiandmoreeven.hisalmseemedtoreaharosstheroomandpulldraotowardhim.

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harrygrabbeddrao’shand.“whatsortofurse?areyoutwoinger?”

“sometimes,”harrystartedtosaybutstopped.heturnedandgazedatdrao,whoalmostgaspedatthedisillusiohefoundwithinthem.“sometimesitfeelslikeiknoweverythingaboutyou,andsometimesitfeels—”heshookhishead“—itjustfeelslikeitwillneverbeenough.”

“i’mursed,”draorushedout.hethoughtbrieflyitmight’vebeenharry’srawhoythatompelledhimtotelloneofhisstserets.harry’seyeswentwideandhetookasteptowarddrao,whoshookhisheadandbithislip.“thereweresixofusursed,”heexpined.“grangerinluded.”

“sothesethreads,”pottersaid.“there’soneoingus?”

draodeidedtoexpinwhatheuoodaboutthreadsingeneralities.“idon’tseethemallthetime.theyappearinmomentswheretheoionsarerelevantorsimplylose.therearethreadsforpastlinks,present,andfuture.threadsforlove,hate,orrather—variationsoflightanddarkness.ittak