It was only because Malfoy had shifted, further forcing the two men to face one another, that Harry would even have noticed his attention waver. Malfoy’s eyes had dipped, and Harry’s followed them to his left hand, still lingering on the backrest between them.<br/>Though it couldn’t have been long, Harry felt the weight of Malfoy’s eyes, too aware of the visibility of the script scarred into his skin. It made him wonder if Malfoy felt responsible, if only partially, something that made Harry want to speak on it, feeling like he had little right to hold Malfoy responsible for Umbridge’s actions.<br/>Harry’s lips had parted when Malfoy reached out, brushing their hands together. It made Harry’s mind go blank, heart pummelling to the pit of his stomach with enough force to give him vertigo.<br/>Immediately Harry’s attention returned onto Malfoy, desperate for any explanation. The other had already retracted his hand, making it appear as nothing more than a thoughtless impulse. The inherent tenderness of the touch, however, was impossible to shake, struggling to comprehend where it had come from.<br/>It took Harry a moment for his mind to catch up, and when he did, he felt foolish for having thought it could be anything else.<br/>"You’re really fixating on that, huh?" he challenged, grateful to hear a steadfast laugh seeping into his voice. It made him appear less bothered, especially given that his heartrate had elevated itself as his heart resettled in his chest.<br/>Increasingly humoured on Malfoy’s behalf, Harry, in a moment of boldness, shifted forward. While Malfoy had barely brushed a discreet touch to Harry’s skin, Harry reached to brazenly take Malfoy’s in his.<br/>There was a smile on Harry’s lips, the glass and a half visible in his gaze. "Is there anything I can say to convince you that this is normal for me?"