As soon as Malfoy stepped behind him, Harry’s heartrate became elevated. It was merely muscle memory, entirely inappropriate for their circumstances, but the expectation that Malfoy would brush a blind touch to his back made Harry’s mind cloud with different connotations.<br/>Despite his best efforts to anticipate the touch, a circle drawn just to the side of his spine, it almost made Harry jump, a shiver making his shoulder’s flex. Malfoy’s hand had been unexpectedly warm against Harry’s skin, far beyond what Harry could have expected. He struggled to justify why that expectation existed in the first place.<br/>Malfoy’s words, however, were immensely effective to rein Harry’s thoughts back in, making his heart skip a beat. While Malfoy’s hand had felt so pleasantly warm against Harry’s skin, Harry found it almost embarrassing that the reverse had been uncomfortable enough for Malfoy to remark on it.<br/>"I’m not," he said, a plain honesty to his voice. His eyes darted thoughtlessly towards Malfoy as he circled the chair, once again stepping into Harry’s field of vision. "Not more than usual, anyway."<br/>By the heat of his cheeks, Harry, in fact, believed his skin to be warmer than usual.<br/>Malfoy was back towering above him, closer than before now that the distance of his wand had been subtracted from the space between them. It once again left Harry with an unmistakable sense of vertigo settled deep in the back of his throat.