November came and went, and the chill that started in Harry’s bones remained, and only seemed to grow. Things were by no means bad, but they seemed to be changing rapidly, and he didn’t think he could catch up. Lately, it seemed like the only times he could see Draco were when they went to sleep, or when Neville covered for them so that they could go on a date. Even those times were falling few and far between, and Harry was slowly closing in on himself once more.