They held eye contact for a long, electric moment, before Harry’s control snapped. His Gryffindor bravery had fled, and his Slytherin sense of self-preservation was urging him to run. "I’ve gotta go. Bye," he said, and tumbled through the opening in the curtains with little grace and less dignity. He stumbled over to this own bed, pulled the curtains closed, and cast a strong silencing charm.