Malfoy suddenly became the most interesting thing in the room as soon as Harry realized he had spent an entire day drawing up hypotheticals. Harry’s Healer had known of his concerns for a month and had yet to suggest a single possible solution – or explanation, for that matter. The fact that Malfoy was speaking in multitudes sent a thrill down Harry’s spine, immediately shaking the last grip of sleep.<br/>Something in his expression changed, brows quirking for a moment, before finally approaching the desk, mind far removed from the trinkets littering the surfaces.<br/>"What’d you come up with?" he asked, genuinely interested.<br/>Harry had stopped a few feet from the desk; from there he could see that even if he had been closer, he wouldn’t have been able to make sense of Malfoy’s minute writing. It meant Harry’s eyes returned onto Malfoy, searching for the answers there.<br/>Harry wasn’t even sure what he was looking for. He learned that Malfoy’s hair was far longer than expected, something that made his eyes wander when Malfoy pushed it away from his face. It wasn’t particularly useful information, though Harry could almost feel it being stored deep down in his subconsciousness, his mental image of Draco Malfoy, age 16, correcting itself to match the present; Draco Malfoy, age 29, no milk and long hair.