"Yeah. You’ll be fine," Malfoy spat where he was perched at the edge of Harry's bed, mirror floating in front of him as he brushed his hair into place. After Christmas, Harry had started speaking to his parents with his drapes open —sometimes. Not all the time, but for more lighthearted conversations like this. "You can just fly up into the clouds and hide. I’m the one they’re going to be after."