Harry had to take a moment to process the severity of Malfoy’s words, needing to put them into context. Harry had had no issues with the wards either at Grimmauld Place nor St. Mungo’s, but Harry understood the severity of catching on both the Ministry’s and Malfoy’s, purposefully restricting the passage of dark magic.<br/>Several conflicting emotions went through him as he watched the Malfoy’s expressions change minutely at each statement. It didn’t escape him how Malfoy’s phrasing had changed from the first night Harry had come to the Manor, how he seemed prepared to talk in actionable points.<br/>Harry had purposefully sought out Malfoy to confirm the suspicion that he or others had been exposed to dark magic, fearing it might have lingered. He didn’t know what to think having that confirmed, mind struggling to piece together the implications.<br/>"So I’m staying," Harry repeated in an exhale, stepping into the kitchen to take a seat at the dinette; this time, it wasn’t a question.<br/>In the very back of his mind, he thought their situation to be uncomfortably intimate, bordering on post coital. Harry had dressed himself with less care and fewer layers than he had upon waking, and Malfoy awkwardly hovering at the hub, offering him a cup of tea because they’re English and because they didn’t know what else to do. Harry usually didn’t linger in situations like these, and yet, he realized, this might be his entire existence for the next foreseeable future.<br/>"For how long, do you reckon?"