True to his word, the door to Malfoy’s study easily opened when Harry turned the handle. The study that revealed itself to him was simultaneous unexpected, and frankly, the only thing that could ever have been appropriate.<br/>The walls were covered in ceiling height bookshelves, even the far one which Harry thought to be an exterior wall and which had undoubtedly once contained a window. It made the room exceptionally quiet, even as Harry let the door stay at bay behind him. It made Harry doubt what he had heard in the first place, back at the hall, because Malfoy was easily sat at his desk, and the room was so insulated with books that Harry barely heard his own steps.<br/>Though Malfoy had already stated he had spent a decade researching the field, it still felt like an overwhelming amount of stuff to attest to research in a field that was so utterly abstract. It made Harry’s mind blank, trying to take it all in, every corner and shelf holding something that piqued his interest.<br/>It took Harry a moment to even realize Malfoy was asking about the bedroom and not the study.<br/>"Yeah," Harry replied, surprised that he was even asked. His eyes returned onto Malfoy, though the sheer contents of the room made it hard to keep his attention from drifting.<br/>When he continued, his eyes were skipping over the bookshelf on his right, turning to follow the shelves as they framed the doorway. "Didn’t come with a Healer to wake me once an hour to make sure I wasn’t concussed."<br/>Harry shifted, turning so that he could meet Malfoy’s eye. He spoke with a smile, small but genuine. "It was great."<br/>Reluctantly stepping away from the books, Harry stepped further into the room; his hands found the pockets of his trousers, an active attempt to keep his hands off of Malfoy’s plentiful collection. "Have you been working all day?"