The silence between them was uncomfortably long as Malfoy seemed to weigh his options. When Harry had been younger, he would have tried to fill it with either attempts at persuasions or frustrated curses. Now, Harry’s features softened, the smile fading though his eyes remained attentive.<br/>In his mind, Harry knew he had played his cards better this time around. He circumstances had changed, too, the stakes heightening in a conversation that otherwise remained very low risk to Malfoy. Harry knew it was useless trying to convince Malfoy to listen due to a sense of obligation; he could only hope Malfoy instead would listen out of interest. Harry had effectively presented Malfoy with the opportunity to study something that, for once, wasn’t hypothetical.<br/>When Malfoy moved to retreat, Harry felt the pull of the closing door as it had been tied to him with rope, heart drawn into his throat. He willed himself to stay put, hyper aware of the fact that preventing Malfoy from closing it had been the wrong approach. The effort made his shoulders tense. If Malfoy were to refuse him a second time, Harry didn’t know if he had grounds to ask a third time, leaving him in a worse position to figure this out than he had been a month ago.<br/>Once Malfoy folded, Harry’s shoulders relaxed a fraction; the door opening back up allowed his heart to resettle, doing a flip on its way back into his chest.<br/>His smile reappeared, small but pleased and carefully encouraged. He stepped past Malfoy into the manor, pushing through every harrowing instinct to never to set foot in that building again.