Harry only hummed, satisfied that Draco hadn’t pressed the subject. In reality, it had been a lot, and Harry had needed several days to recover from the attention, having laid almost feverish the day after his birthday. Having to say that out loud to Draco felt almost embarrassing.<br/>A flash of silver caught Harry’s attention enough to stall him, the plate adorning the door catching on the light of the sconces illuminating the hallway in a way that interrupted Harry’s train of thought. Even as Draco entered the room, Harry had stilled at the doorstep, eyeing the plate with the realization that it was much alike, if not identical, to the one still marking Regulus’ old bedroom at Grimmauld. The door to Sirius’ room still had a faded spot where, presumably, another one had hung at some point in time.<br/>It was clear that this ought to be Draco’s childhood bedroom, and it felt incredibly different than sharing a nondescript guestroom, intimate in a way Harry wasn’t entirely prepared for. So, he joked.<br/>“Am I allowed in?” Harry questioned, the smile pulling at his lips promising it was only a joke when he finally looked over at Draco.