In the back of his mind, Harry recognized that he probably did feel some sense of relief at that. His shoulders<span style="font-style: italic">did </span>relax, at the very least comforted by the fact that wouldn’t lead to a delay in Malfoy’s work. Harry didn’t even have access to his office as of late, and yet it was the knowledge that he’d have to spend another few nights in a strange bed that hit him the hardest.<br/>Leaning back into his chair, Harry’s fingers pushed beneath his lenses, pushing his glasses up to his forehead with the motion. The exhaustion seemed to hit him all at once, the emotional strain of the last few days finally catching up to him. The last hour alone felt like it contained enough to fill several days. It had felt like a violent lurch forwards only to end in yet another deadlock. He’d have to figure out something to maintain a sense of progress but in that moment, his brain was pure static.<br/>He trailed the line of his eye socket, fingers pressing hard against the bone before letting his hands fall, blinking Malfoy’s silhouette back into view.<br/>He barely registered the question. "With milk."