Upon exiting the dressing room, Harry's gaze had immediately found Draco. He couldn't say what he looked for, but Harry felt like it was for Draco to judge whether or not the shirt was any good. When Draco voiced his approval, Harry's heart flipped, finally seeming to relax his stance a bit.<br/>"Yeah?" he asked, an almost boyish shyness to his smile. When his eyes finally left Draco, it was to look at himself in the full figure mirror, now standing properly at a distance. His attention, however, remained on the other, knowing his inputs to be more valuable than anything Harry might find in his reflection.<br/>"I don't wear green at all," Harry noted, though not elaborating. He feared that by specifying how his wardrobe consisted almost entirely of whites and light blues, that Draco would immediately see that as yet another uniform bleeding into his every day wear.<br/>The shirt was undoubtedly better fitting than his old, if that was to be judged on the way it tapered around this chest, the same amount of slack at his waist as there was at his chest instead of bunching at the lining of his trousers.<br/>Harry had to fight the urge to pick at the shirt, if only to shift the fit. Instead, he turned to glance over at Draco, then at Pansy, then back at his pretend boyfriend with a tentative joke at the corner of his mouth. "Good enough for a date?"