Draco’s response wasn’t unkind and yet it felt nauseatingly bare. It made everything feel more constricted, underlining that it wasn’t a matter of sticking to professionalism, it was everything else. It seemed like outside the bounds of the study, Harry was unwanted company.<br/>“Right,” he parroted, deflated.<br/>Somehow it was Draco’s returning professional self-doubt that tipped the scales, tying Harry’s throat in a knot. Their lack of progress felt easier justified when they were spending their time amicably but now, Harry didn’t know how to express the fact that Draco could be relieved of his contract, if he so preferred.<br/>Harry inhaled, shifting his seat backwards. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to accept such defeat just yet.<br/>“I think I’m gonna call it a night,” he said instead, eyes having drifted off to one side.<br/>He hadn’t even offered them that feigned courtesy of waiting for Draco to finish his food, though Harry felt certain it wasn’t as much a matter of him still eating as it were of avoiding meeting Harry’s eye.<br/>Exhausted, Harry needed an out, if only for tonight. Without waiting for any acknowledgement, he stood.<br/>“Dinner was lovely,” he said into the room, more to Coote than to Draco; he was at a loss at what else there was to say.