Whenhewasertainthey’dmadeitdownthepathfarenoughtobeoutofearshotofanyone,Draolearedhisthroat.Hewasn’tsurehowtotellthemabouttheTimepiee.Hewasn’tevensureifheouldtellthemaboutit.Theonlythingheknewwasthethreadswereseizing,thewayforwardnarrowed,andtheonlywaythroughwastogobak.

“There’sonethingthatbothersme,”Potterrushedtospeakfirst.

“Onlyonething?”Draognedathimandsmirked.Hehadtolookbakatthepathtowathhisstepsasthefadinglightdriftedbelowthehorizon,buthewasertainPotterhadsmiled.

“Iftheyouldssoulswithanyoneintheworld,”Potterasked,“whydidtheyhooseBertrieandakneazle?”

“Maybetheydidn’t,”Parkinsonoffered.“Maybe—Idon’tknow—maybeitwasanaident.”

PotterstoppedandgrabbedDrao’sshoulder.“Ormaybeyouwererightaboutthekneazle.”

DraodrankintheboldnessinPotter’seyesandgrinned.“Ithinkonfirmationthatthesoul-singpntsenarioisinfatsomehowrealhasestablishedthatIwasright.”

“No,”Potterrolledhiseyes.“Thekneazle.Itwasleverage.”

Igorathrewherfourthigarettedownonthegroundandstampeditout.Sheknewlessthanadozenwandlessspells,butthemostusedone,disappearigarettebutt,endedupbeingmoremagithanshe’ddoneallday.Standingoutsidethehotelentraneseemedtobothalmandstressher,asshewentovereverydetailoftheaseinherhead.

SheandFelixhaddoneeverythingbyproedure.Sheouldn’ttellifshewasmissingsomething,ifthey’dsomehowmadeamistake,orthemlosingtheaseboileddowntosomeoneelse’sego.Ormaybetheyhadsteppedonsomeone’stoes.Who?Igorawondered.RonWeasley?TheDepartmentofMysteries?ShebrieflyrememberedtheGoldenTriohadtrekkedintothehotel.HarrybloodyPotter?No,whoeverhadtakentheasefromthemwasgravelymistakeniftheythoughtIgorawouldstoplookingforBertrieZivantus.

Shelitanotherigaretteandstaredoutintothestreet.Felixhadgonebaktotheoffie,butIgorahadfeltitinherbonesthatshewasneededatthehotel.Herinstintshadonlyeverfailedherwithloversandthelottery,soshewaitedstoiallyintheooldrizzleoftheearlyevening.

Thepopofanapparitionpulledherfromherthoughts.Igorapeeredaroundthedeorativebushes.“Helgahelpus,”shewhisperedatthesightofDraoMalfoy,PansyParkinson,andHarryPotterhuddledtogetheratthebottomoftheAshtyl’ssteps.

“I’llgohekonBertie,”Parkinsonsaid.Igoradroppedherigaretteinsurprise.Hereyesfollowedthewoman’sformupthesteps,notedtheolletionofbooksslungunderParkinson’sarm.

“Whydon’tyougowithher?”MalfoynoddedtoPotter.“Ioulduseafewminutestolearmyhead.”Hishandswerestuffedawkwardlyinthepoketsofhiswaistoat.

PotterfixatedonMalfoy.“Areyousureyou’realright?”Pottertookastepandlosedthegapbetweenthem.Nowthatwasiing,Igoraastanamplifyingharmtoheartheiroion—“Sonorus.”

“Itwasn’ttheBkBeanHoofBrittle,wasit?”

Malfoyraisedabrow.“AreyouimplyingLovegoodan’tmakeanadequatebrittle?”

“I—Ijust—”Potterstammeredand—Igoraleanedforward,Washeblushing?—heranahandthroughhisloosehair.“IguessIoweyouanapology.”

“SonotonlydoyousavetheentireWizardingWorld,butnowyouapologiseforLoonyLovegood’sabysmalattemptsatsweets?”MalfoysmiledandstaredbakatHarryPotterwithagazeofreverentadmiration.“WereIinyourposition,IdoubtI’ddothesame.”

Somethingsimmeredbetweenthelines,andIgorawasn’tsurewhatitwas.Weren’tthesetwoswornenemies?Rivals,atleast?PotterhadspokenupforMalfoyathistrial.Butthis?Igorawasn’tsureifshewasreallylookingatthesamepeople.Hangon,shethought.WhydidPotter’slotheslooksofamiliar?

Potter’sfaerexed.“Allthesame.IguessI’llleaveyoutoyourthoughts.”Heturnedaroundandlimbedthesteps.AsMalfoy’seyesfollowedPotter’sform,theblonddugsomethingoutofhiswaistoatandgrippeditinfrontofhim.

Afterafewmoments,hefinallylookeddownandopenedhishandtorevealagoldenpoketwath.Malfoyieditforamomentwithashrewdeyeandthenfiddledwiththedials.

“LookMalfoy,aboutwhathappenedatNeville’s,”Igorahadn’tseenPotterdesendthesteps,andapparently,Malfoyhadn’tnotiedeitherjudgingbythehorrifiedsurprisepsteredarosshisfae.Potter’sgazefelltothegoldenwathintheotherman’spalm.

Withoutpause,PotterlungedatMalfoy.

Igorasawtherashoflimbsandthenabright,blindingwhitelight.Sheblinkedseveraltimesinreovery,onlytoseethespotinfrontofherompletelyempty.Thetwomenweregone.

Harryfeltasifhe’dbeenfallingfordays,buthisfeethadneverleftsolidground.

Andthentherewassomethingsolidandwarmpressedagainsthim.ItsmelledlikeforestandsunshineandHogwarts.Someone.“Malfoy,”Harrypushedthemanaway.Theforesenttheblondstumblingbakward,hisarmsoutstrethedtobanehimself.HarryzeroedinonthegoldenwathinMalfoy’srighthand.“Thatwouldn’tbeaTimepieeinyourhand?Wouldit?”

Withwideeyes,Malfoyrespondedbyshovingtheobjetinquestionintohispoket.

“Thatwouldn’tbe,”HarrysteppedforwardandpokedafingerintoMalfoy’shest,“theTimepiee?Asinthethingontheransomlist?MarwanZivantus’bloodyTimeTurner?”Harryouldn’tstophisbloodfrompratiallyboilingwithanger.Justwhenhe’ddeidedheouldtrustMalfoy,thegitprovesthathean’tbetrusted.“Iwasright,”hesaid,hestheaving.“Iwasrightandyouughedatme.Youhaditthisentiretime.”

Malfoy’sfeaturesmoldedintosomethingral,

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