Chapter 19: The Empty Post

Draconia came back to Merrowgate on a wet evening in September, a day later than the others.

She had a letter from her father in her trunk that she had not opened.

She went straight up to the Boundary Gallery.

She had no reason to.

The Warden had said the watch would resume at ten, and it was not yet seven.

She stood in the doorway in her wet cloak and looked at the table and the brass cradle.

Beyond them the window held the dusk coming down the hill.

Someone had lit one lamp.

Harry was sitting on the far side of the table with his hands in his lap.

He did not say anything.

He stood up, quite slowly, so that no sudden movement would spoil the room.

He was a little browner than in June.

His hair had grown out, and the fringe fell into his glasses so that he had to push it back.

"You're early," said Draconia.

"I came on Tuesday."

"The term starts on Thursday."

"I know." He pushed the fringe back. "I wanted to see if it was the same."

She came in and shut the door.

She did not try the latch, because she did not need to, and he saw her not try it.

"Is it?"

"I don't know yet. I haven't crossed them."

"You have been in here for three days," said Draconia, "and you have not crossed them?"

"I couldn't do it without you."

It was said simply, without any weight at all.

She put her bag on the table.

It was the worst thing he could have said, and she took out her wand with a hand that was not quite steady.

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