Harry snorted a little chuckle, wondering if he had been invited up to peek at Draco from within the room, then. It felt difficult to justify Harry’s presence there if it wasn’t the case, but it would be a lie to say it didn’t make Harry’s heart rate quicken, the memory of Draco’s body against his not far removed from Harry’s consciousness.<br/>He stepped into the room, head immediately turning to glance at the walls. The novelty and the intimacy of looking around Draco’s room came with an entirely different sort of intrigue. For the first time in years, Draco existed to Harry as a teenager; something about it all made Harry’s stomach flip.<br/>Unable to help it, Harry took an unprompted seat at the foot of Draco’s bed, finding it difficult not to engage with the room rather than float atop it.<br/>His attention finally returned onto Draco, Harry’s eyes skipping over Draco’s figure as he looked through his wardrobe.<br/>“Did you really want to hear about my birthday?” Harry asked with a smile, leaning back against his hands, outstretched on the covers behind him.