When Draco confirmed he had finished up his work, Harry stood up, expecting to unwind for the evening. The change in topic caught him off guard, the loss of the table between them amplifying the intensity of the topic.<br/>Harry visibly faltered, tentatively stepping away from his chair, hand on the backrest.<br/>As the day had passed, the frustration he felt against the Ministry had cooled into a resentful knot; nothing that wasn’t as familiar to Harry as the feeling of glasses against his nose. It felt like a heavier conversation now that Harry’s words were no longer propelled by anger.<br/>Draco’s gratitude made Harry’s skin flush, making it hard to maintain persistent eye contact.<br/>“I want to do right,” he admitted clumsily, the gentler<span style="font-style: italic">by you</span>hanging in the air between them. “That wasn’t.”