Harry’s eyes fixed on his straining fingers, and he realised that Draco had just made one decision extremely easy for him at least, even if he still wasn’t satisfied with their plan regarding the ring's retrieval. He took a deep calming breath and slid his palm against Draco’s. Draco could never know. He could never know about the wound at Harry’s neck. He’d meant it when he’d said the world could hang, but Harry didn’t agree, and never would. Voldemort had to die, no matter the price.