Once seated, Harry was faced with the fact that he really was unaccustomed to being around Draco in the presence of others. He found that his words bunched in his throat, everything that he wanted to share and get Draco’s insight on was dampened by Hannah Connor’s mere presence across the table.<br/>Eyes skimming across Draco’s features, his smile, Harry felt a little out of breath, and a lot unprepared.<br/>“Did the Head Auror chew you up and spit you back out?” Connor filled the silence, her voice perfectly even; as if to underline her point, she pointed upwards at Harry’s hair with her fork. “You’re wet, sir.”<br/>The added honorific did little to add any respect to quite a presumptuous question, but Harry found that he couldn’t really mind, given how effectively it cut through the silence between them.<br/>“Clearly,” he replied as he straightened out his posture better to the table, humoured enough to accept the tease without engaging. In that moment, Harry felt reassured that he wasn’t really interested in sharing every nuance of his health with her, making it easier to allow her to deflect.<br/>Glancing over at Draco, Harry’s smile widened at the mere sight, slightly but inevitably.