He knew, then, that Malfoy had changed, or would change, or was in the process of changing.
Harry knew, with the same surety, that he wanted to be there for it. He wanted to watch as Malfoy unfolded himself and shook out the parts that were cruel and mean and hateful. He wanted to watch for the moment when Malfoy’s limbs and heart and brain and muscles moved in a way that wasn’t heavy with unease and anger. He wanted to see a thousand more easy smiles on Malfoy’s face, it wouldn’t even matter if he hadn’t put them there himself. He wanted to see Malfoy bloom with laughter.