Harry had nearly finished packing on Saturday morning, when his fingers found the records he had bought for Draco months ago. He’d nearly forgotten all about them, he thought, trailing his fingers contemplatively across their covers. He knew what to do, but he hesitated for a moment anyway, paralysed by indecision. Would Draco even like them? He threw caution to the wind, and rushed from the dormitory, shouting for Hermione.