Though Harry would argue that he had no lingering resentments towards Malfoy - in fact, Harry had hardly thought of the other man in the passing decade - the sense of humanity of their interaction still caught Harry by surprise. Harry heard it in the gracious offer to let him rest for a moment, and he saw it in the frizz of Malfoy’s hair and how the steam made it curl. His eye followed Malfoy’s hand as he tucked the strand of hair behind his ear; Harry didn’t know what to make of it.<br/>"I’d appreciate that," he said, words reverberating against the porcelain as he raised his cup to his lip. His eyes returned onto Malfoy’s as he took a drink. "Thanks."<br/><br/>_____<br/><br/>When Harry finally woke, the sun had just dipped beneath the horizon, purple light flooding through the windows. He had struggled to even recognize the room, anxiety immediately leaving his chest in knots so effectively that Harry could have thought he was having a nightmare. As soon as the context reappeared in his consciousness, Harry had slumped back against the mattress, marveled by how easily 8 hours of sleep fogged up any recollection of blue lights flashing. Harry felt the implications Malfoy’s words resettle like the bloom of a hangover.<br/>A few minutes later, Harry ventured out of the room, redressed in the same shirt for the third time today; he blinked into the darkness of the hallway. Brain still sleep-muddled, he stood watching the asymmetry of the lighting on the wall across from him, only the right-hand sconce illuminating the hallway.<br/>Turning his head towards it, Harry saw the lights illuminate before him, the cast-off light giving away that the lights had continued to turn on around only the left-hand corner at the end of the hallway. It made Harry grin, genuine and surprised. As he set about to follow the illuminated path back towards the main body of the manor, he wondered whether the ingenuity was to be attributed Malfoy or the house elves.<br/>Harry wouldn’t have recognized his way back in the dark, but by the time he was descending the stairs down into the entrance hall, he realized the lights were directing him back through to the kitchen. He paused by the foot of the stairs and, thought there was truth in the fact that he should probably dine before anything else, it was the soft putter from a still-darkened hallway that gave away that Malfoy wasn’t waiting on him for tea at the kitchen.<br/>Taking a moment of consideration, Harry took the left turn, venturing further into the Manor. Mercifully, the lights illuminated as he approached them, though no longer serving to mark a path.<br/>It took Harry longer to find Malfoy’s study than it had taken to find the kitchen; Golden light illuminated the floor from the seam between the door and the toe kick.<br/>By then, the room had once again grown quiet, leaving Harry absent mindedly hovering at the door to listen. Then, finally, he knocked. "Malfoy?"