[The pressed point bleeds him at the chest. Dorian's voice loses volume and his arms draw in to his chest.] I know what Harry did. To—me. I . . . understand what Oscar was saying. That he broke me.

But it was never malice, not ever. He was one of my most loyal and steadfast friends, he stayed with me when others would have turned their backs on me, when others did. And I can't—I won't believe that his loyalty was merely to stay near enough to watch his pet experiment. [The bitterness, that hint of the festering in this injury, disappears in an instant.] Whatever he else he did to me, he was my friend.