When he felt Draco’s muscles give in to the direction, Harry tilted his head against the pillow, better allowing himself to look at the other man. Morning light suited Draco, his silver hair reflecting yellow gold for once. He couldn’t have moved much throughout the night, the untied plaid still pulling his hair away from his face; Draco looked out of a fairy tale, crooked braid and all.<br/>Harry’s hands remained steady, but his thumbs trailed Draco’s hairline, following the curve around his ears and the uneven pull of the hair.<br/>Eventually, Harry did huff a little laugh.<br/>“It’s very lopsided,” he resigned, his voice still airy with a laugh as he allowed his head to slump back on the pillow.