Perfectly on cue, today’s Prophet appeared onto the counter next to Harry, drawing his attention. It tied Harry’s throat into a knot, suddenly finding it hard to swallow; it was indistinguishable whether or not Coote had waited for his master’s approval, or if that had been a subtle example of Draco’s wandless magic.<br/>“Thanks,” Harry said, picking the paper up, thoughtlessly rolling it to a barrel as soon as he had it in his hands.<br/>When his eyes returned to Draco Harry felt painfully aware of the fact that Draco had promised to show off his spellwork. The intimacy of that conversation set aside, Draco had seemed in such good spirits, and undoubtedly deserving of that praise. Harry didn’t know how to process the fact that he had been robbed of that opportunity.<br/>He pushed himself away from the counter, taking an aimless step into the room.<br/>“You’re welcome to join me,” Harry said. His smile remained friendly, albeit tentative to offset the boldness of his offer. “Should you reconsider having breakfast.”