esabitoftimetolearnthegradients,theolors,andtheirmeaning.”draotookabreath.“ithink—beausei’mapersonwithmyownoions,notanoutsidefore—ifeelpulledtoertainthreads,drawnforwardtoatinservieofmyowniabledesign.”

“sotherearemultiplethreadsbetweenus?”pottertookasteploser.draoouldbarelybreathe.suddenlytheywereinhesapartandallheouldfousonwasthefervenyinpotter’sgaze.

“past,”draonodded.

“i’dimagine,”potter’slipsquirked.

“present.”draoswallowed.heouldn’tholdpotter’sgazeanylongersohestaredatthethreadsoingthem,thearrayabloomingdispyofmagifores.potterlookeddown,followingdrao’sgaze.hespreadhishandondrao’shest.thewarmthofpotter’stouhalmostburnedhim.abriefpause,andpotterlookedupintodrao’seyesanddraowasn’tsurewhosaid,“future?”

theystoodtheresolose,staringateahotherwithinexpliableantiipation.draorealizedhewasleaning,losingthegapbetweenthem,physially,emotionally,he’dneverdreamedofbeingthatlosetoharrypotterinhislife.potter’seyesfluttered,anddraothoughtmaybe.

“harry,”hewhispered.

potter’seyesshotopen.“isthatapnt?”hebreathedandpusheddraoaway,rushingtotheorneroftheroomnearargewindow.“isitinquollisaniorpus?”

“idon’tknow,”draoaknowledged.“givemeamomentwhilethebloodrushesbaktomybrain.”

potter’seyesdartedtodrao’sroth.heflushedandturnedbaktowardthewindow.washeembarrassed?ashamed?potter’sformseemedtenseashestoodappraisingthetall,leafyflora.“wehavetogetbakfortheransomdrop.”