It was early morning and none of the usual denizens of the park had scurried out of their night lodgings. Draco leaned over the railing, staring listlessly into the churning grey water. He had been standing there for hours, dangling his Muggle cell phone by its scraggly antennae over the edge, convincing himself not to dial its shiny buttons.

Call him, his conscience urged.

I'm too much of a danger to him. I …. can't.

He heard a noise and started, dropping the phone into the gluttonous river. Draco turned away bitterly; his decision made for him, into Harry's waiting arms.