Harry had stalled a few feet away from the hearth, his attention refocused by a coworker egging him on. Dismissing the invitation with a brief touch to his forearm, Harry excused himself with the promise of his return. Instead of joining the three inspectors he had arrived with at the bar, Harry instead sought out the cluster of Cursebreakers seated by a group of tables at the far end.<br/>He had barely gotten a few yards away from the table before Freddy Brennan, a rogue Auror in the bunch, noticed him approaching.<br/>“Settle this, sir,” Brennan called good-humoured and loud, leaning in over the table to peer down at Harry between the rows of people. Unable to comfortably look at him, he ended up leaning back, grinning at Harry behind Connor’s back. “Who’s the best player active in the league, currently?”<br/>Harry had entered the interaction with a grin, but the question stumped him, forcing him to realise his attention had not been on Brennan but on Draco. It left his reaction a little stifled, almost excessively<span style="font-style: italic">correct</span>, even through the self awareness his sheepish grin carried.<br/>“Ginny Weasley, certainly,” he chimed in as he reached the table end, making Brennan<span style="font-style: italic">tsk</span>with feigned annoyance, clearly discounting Harry’s input as worthless.<br/>It only widened Harry’s grin, eyes politely skimming the group, both seeming to both start and end on Draco, feeling his stomach flip with anticipation.<br/>“Cheers, lads,” he offered the group as a collective greeting, although his attention remained on Draco when he spoke.