Harry had happily followed Draco outside. It was dinner time when they made it out into the gardens, but summer still clung onto the last few hours of light. The sun still shone, making the pristine gardens appear bright green and picturesque.<br/>Harry was, quite frankly, having a good time just walking through them.<br/>Grimmauld Place only had a garden the size of a postage stamp, and neither Harry nor Kreacher had arsed themselves to do anything about it to make it usable, seeming to only accentuate the general air of neglect that the house still carried. The wide expanse of grass and flowers of the Manor, however, seemed oddly cheery for such a grave house. It felt nice - like it overshadowed a lot of what had happened inside.<br/>“Did you play a lot of Quidditch out here as a kid?” Harry asked, eyes darting to Draco as he spoke. Draco felt nice out there, too, fresh-faced in the sunlight. It made Harry smile. “Seem’s like it was practically made for it.”