“Foreverybody.”HepulledbakalittleandstarteddrawingirlesbehDrao’solrbone.“Youknow,we’realwaystalkingaboutwhatIwant,but…whatdoyouwant?”

Draogavehimalopsidedsmileandlethishandtraveluptohisnekwhereheburieditinhisuntamablehair.Hewasn’tsureifheshouldbeworriedaboutthefatthatthesekindofrevetionsdidn’tseemassaryanymoreandfeltmuhmoreomfortableonhislips.

“YouknowwhatIwant,”hesaidsoftly.“It’srighthereinfrontofme.”

Potterwasperfetlystillforaseondbeforehemadeagaggingsoundinmokdisgustandtheybothburstoutughing.Draopokedhissidepyfullyandpulledhimbakdownagain.

“Happybirthday,Potter,”hemurmuredagainsthislips.HefeltPotterhukleandouldn’thelpdoingsohimself.Thiswasit.Hehadneverbeenhappierinhislife.Itwassuhastrangefeeling;sounfamiliar,sobeautifulandsopowerful,itatuallyhurt.

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