You know what makes me want to cry? Draco Malfoy in sixth year. Remember you had to sit by yourself at school for a minute, or listen to your parents argue while you sat upstairs hugging you knees? Now imagine your weren’t sat for a minute, but a whole year, and you knew it wasn’t going to change. Imagine your parents arguing, not over who did the dishes our why they’re late home, but over a sociopathic murderer who you’re sharing your house with. Imagine having to kill your teacher. I can’t even try to imagine that but what I can imagine is how lonely he was and and I’m crying again.
“What do you like?”
“Music. Numbers. Equations. They’re not like words. They … they don’t get mixed up.”
“If only you could talk to girls in equations.”
There was a long silence, and then, eyes trained on the notch they’d created in the link, Wylan said, “Just girls?”
Jesper restrained a grin. “No. Not just girls.”