As soon as Draco disappeared out of sight, it became clear that Pansy wasn't, in fact, looking him over with interest. The longer he had to process it, Harry had grown certain it was some degree of disappointment. He did, however, find comfort in the fact that her furrowed brow seemed primarily directed at his choice of footwear - though, to be fair, Harry didn't know where precisely she would look if she disapproved of him as a person.<br/>"Shall we find you a better fitting shirt?" Pansy asked, unprompted but not necessarily unfriendly. She had finally raised her gaze far enough to meet Harry's line of sight, and yet, Harry could tell by the volume she spoke in that the question wasn't directed at him.<br/>This time, she smiled before he did, further softening the words that followed; these, for once, seemed to be spoken to him. "I would have laid some out for you, too, but your boyfriend didn't know your shirt size."<br/>Taken aback by the sheer phrasing of her question, Harry struggled to figure out if she was even expecting a reply. After all, Harry didn't think she had asked him anything.<br/>"I think this is a large," he eventually said through a crooked smile, awkwardly unprepared for this line of questioning.