So Potter had made his choice. Draco wouldn’t have expected the Golden Boy to make that decision, and as he looked over at Ronald Weasley, wand in hand, Draco really wished Potter had chosen differently. The redhead looked truly dangerous, not at all like the bumbling fool he’d been at school. He wasn’t someone Draco could mock anymore. He supposed inanely that months of being on the run, and more months of skirmishes with Death Eaters had hardened Weasley. He took an unthinking step further back into the shadows, as if he could hide himself. Fucking stupid.