Harry followed Draco in what he judged to be a polite distance; it was also a distance where Harry felt comfortable letting out a heavy exhale. He hadn't been aware of the fact that he had restricted his breathing during their conversation, and having Draco on a momentary distance gave Harry a clear moment to think. Was Harry really so weak a man that he'd set a side a month worth of irritation for a pretty face? With his eyes resting on the back of Draco's head, Harry decided that, yeah, he probably was.<br/>Upon leaving the crowded dinner hall, Harry couldn't help but linger at the realisation that this was Draco's home, too, and as Harry glanced around the slightly less crowded front hall, Harry wondered if they were going further into the house; this thought seemed weirdly intimate, and send an (inappropriate) chill down his spine.