Despite what he'd said to Harry the night before Draco had nearly not gone through with this. The avoiding had been working so well, and it seemed a shame to abandon a winning strategy. But this was a war, not a battle, and he couldn't pretend the man didn't exist forever. So he set out for the library with his fists clenched in the pockets of his robes. And if he clenched his wand as well, then, constant vigilance. Harry was rubbing off on him.
He found a table in the deserted place, for once glad not to see Theo. He knew his friend spent a lot of time here, but it was better if they were alone. He still didn't really know what he was going to say to him.