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Summary
It always starts like this.
The dorm is empty. Blaise is still holed up in the library, and Crabbe is Merlin knows where. That’s when Harry appears, like he always does — like a bad habit, like he knows Draco despises it, and lives for it just the same. He’s almost eighteen now, and still sneaking in through Draco’s bloody window.
It’s a terrible idea. They both know it.
"Reckon you’d be alone, Malfoy?"
Draco doesn’t flinch. “Isn’t that why you came?”
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