The question pulled Harry out of his reverie enough to make him snort, a startled little chuckle forced out of him. Startling even himself, he chased the grin into Draco’s chest, turning to press the bridge of his nose against his bare skin, a moment of blissful darkness.<br/>“No, none,” he mused, entertained enough to acknowledge the tease with a chaste kiss to Draco’s sternum.<br/>Once again turning to lay on his cheek, Harry’s eyes remained closed, at ease.<br/>“Grimmauld’s a shithole,” he exhaled, his voice still easy with the laugh, making the crudeness of the statement sound almost cheerful.