Despite himself, Harry let out a shaky chuckle, caught off guard by the simplicity of Draco’s voice. Harry had been physically unwell at 15, feeling Voldemort in his scar, in the base of his skull, in his head, for years on end, and there was a relief in knowing that maybe this wasn’t like this.<br/>“That’s good,” he replied incoherently, a joyless smile to his voice.<br/>Exhausted, Harry propped his head up by his hand, elbow resting on the arm of his chair. His fingers pushed beneath the rim of his glasses, rubbing hard against his eye as he let out a slow exhale.<br/>“Christ.”