When Draco shifted closer, so did Harry. Turning slightly to better square his shoulders up against the headboard, Harry welcomed the proximity without hesitation. As soon as Draco settled, Harry reached out for him, hand curling around his bare knee, the touch not one of initiation but of affection.<br/>“Yeah,” he replied. Harry didn’t know, not really, and yet his voice was heavy with recognition. The same years Draco had spent cherishing his mother’s presence, Harry had spent missing his - and the 20 following them, if he was honest.<br/>Having turned slightly, Draco had crept into the corner of Harry’s eye. Instead, his gaze rested easily on his hand atop of Draco’s knee, igniting an impulse to run his thumb across his skin. “I’m sure that was the best bit.”