“Right,” Harry almost fumbled out, gratefully accepting the out, even if it appeared half-hearted at best. It must have been clear on his expression that that’s where his mind had gone, and he shifted in his seat, leaning back in the attempt to regain some composure.<br/>It didn’t particularly work.<br/>Eyes drifting off of Draco, Harry turned his chair at a slight angle away from the table, a suppressed instinct to get up and pace around the room. Suddenly aware of that optics, he turned the chair back.<br/>“Right. Of course,” he repeated, a bit more steadfast, though his knees felt wobbly, a teenager again. He couldn’t think of an alternative explanation, but he trusted - hoped - that Draco could.<br/>“Is - Was that what it was this weekend, you think?”