分卷阅读3（2 / 2）

He opens the door, lets Ron see.

Ron’s sharp intake of breath confirms that he does look awful. “Mate.”

Harry rubs his face with his hands, rubs the stickiness of the dried tears off and onto his fingers. His eyes hurt. “That bad?”

“You look like Gilderoy Lockhart.”

Harry snorts. “That bad, then.”

He sighs, turning around and lying back down on his bed. His head’s throbbing. “How did you know?”

“Malfoy’s mum sent my mum an Owl. Said she’s worried about you.”

“That’s…awfully friendly.”

“I know. Mum couldn’t believe it at first yesterday, kept saying at the start that Mrs. Malfoy’s probably planning something, but Merlin, Harry, I think mum’s planning to bake a pie to send over. Blueberry pies. It sounds ridiculous, but I think worrying about you is making them closer.”

“That’s…Well, that’s good. I think.”

Ron glances down at Harry’s face, before sitting on the foot of the bed. “So. Malfoy’s back, huh?”

Harry recalls the image of Malfoy sobbing in his wheelchair and keeps his eyes firmly on the ceiling. “Yeah.”

“How is he?”

“Not good.”

“Mustn’t be, if you’re like this.”

Harry keeps quiet. Ron knows him best. Knows his obsession with Malfoy best, because he was the one who was so against it that he had to go through the process of trying to understand it. Harry doesn’t know what Ron concluded at the end of that process, but Ron must have concluded something for him to be so calm about it now.

Or maybe it’s because of the war.

The two of them are both quieter now, more introspective. It’s more obvious in Ron, who’s usually the first to blow up or give in to his more explosive emotions. They’ve fought over so many things during the war, that any of their remaining differences now just aren’t important enough to fight over anymore.

Ron looks at him. “He is the reason you’re like this, right?”