（HP同人）Take into the Air（英文版） 作者:GuardianMira

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    &he air (y iet breath)

    guardianira

    suary：dra is dyg of hanahaki disease serves hi right, harry thks

    he’s beeh year, if the ruor ill has it right, but ohe war is over does dra t too sick to hide it anyore

    they’ve all returo hogwarts as the firstever css of eighth years, harry and ost of the people he grew up with—the ones who survived and the ones who uld face g bayway his circle is rly tad tegrated sealessly with the rest of the student body

    how, though, the whispers don’t reach harry’s ears it’s not until he sees dra ugh the lily petals out of his ngs and onto his breakfast that it even ours to hi that thg ight be wrong with the git

    “is itkd of a curse?” harry asks easily dra prily dabs away the blood at the rner of his lips with a handkerchief—ebroidered with his itials, harry knos the petals off the table bef up his fork as if nothg at all had happened

    &hers are starg at dra, like harry is, but ostly people avert their eyes with expressi fro pity to disgt

    ron swallows hard around his outhful of eggs, lookg about as ed as harry feels “it’s bl, is what it is”

    harry’s face t betray his shock, be fshes

    “what? y u’shad the sa thg,” he ubles “we saw her at the hospital, and she looked…” he shudders a bit “gavenightares for weeks”

    “it’s not a curse,” says herio’s a disease”

    “oh,” harry says “i s’pose ada pofrey will put hi right, then”

    rorade angful looks harry waits it out, all too atod to their silent exow, until herioh: “there’s no cure”

    “no cure?” he says “, what, he voits flowers for the rest of his life?”

    “yes, harry,” says herioively as if she were defg a bob “but he won’t live very ur hanahaki disease is fatal”

    & word, fatal, as if at a great dista possible dra alfoy survived a war only to die of disease? it seesfarfetchedpedestrian harry is ly , out of nowhere

    “that’s ridiculo,” he bsters, “that doesn’t ake sense, how  there not be a cure—”

    “there is a cure, rt of,” ros “he’s sick becae he loves o love hi back if he ts loved back, he ts better”

    ron g herione, and his face goes fro ebarrasshg else, thg harry does seeg,he looks down at his ue of food how he doesn’t thk he’ll be fishg it

    “it’s ite sad, isn’t it,” herione says

    “no, it’s not,” harry snaps “this is his own bloody fault if he wasn’t such a self tered, bigoted prat, aybe ohan his u would love hi”

    even ron looks shocked the ryffdors, abtely failg to prete eavesdroppg, shift utely away frrabs a bread roll fro a basketthe iddle of the table a vicioly, cheg like his

    roo an iproptu idditch dis a send ter, and neville jups —as if a redheaded one had kider the table—and , half the table is overtaken by a rog debate about who’llthe  world cup harry is an isnd of furio silehe iddle of it all no one is fool enough to try and talk tives hi ohose jured looks of hers, the rt that doesn’t say you hurtbut rather seeg you hurt hurts , which grates ht now, becae harry is perfectly fe, ahkg he’s hurt is worse than actually beg hurt

    his hful of dry bread is pafully hard to swallow he looks up, through the gap beeen ron and herione’s shoulders dra chatters at his hoeates, sticutg passionately as he delivers a punchle, probably at one else’s expe’s bess as ual except that everyofteo s and turn ag and sputterg as his outh fills with petalswhite even across the roo it alost hurts harry’s eyes to look at the they fall to dra’s p like shards ss

    dyg of love? he thks he’s hgpathetic; leave it to alfoy to escate a crh to sug heights of draa he thks, al, of what dubledore had always said about love beg the ic of all he keeps fettg—or perhaps jt doesn’t wahat this particur agi be destructive, too

    ost of all, though, harry thks: who is it?

    you’d thk harry’s the one who’s sick, the le are avoidg hi like he’s d eve will pass the syptos on

    “it’s sixth year all a,” herione chides hi “y”

    “i’ not obsessed,” he says, defe terested, that’s all i’ve his do les t it?”

    “no,” says herione, “aher do sibs ued love ahaki disease, but it’s agic that akes the syptos ahey do but listen, harry, please,” she adds she u, whiual, beever passes o knowled, especially when harry’s actually askg her for it “y alfoy ar over the arauder’s ap wheendg to do hog ohers—don’t looksurprised, yood at beg sneaky, harry, i don’t know why you thk you are there’s nothg you  do for alfoy, and sce we’ve been givei seo do our s, we should really fo—”

    “who says i want to do anythg for alfoy?” harry asks, sed

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