At the mention of Draco’s hair, Harry’s gaze shifted a few inches, instinctively turning to the neat bun at the nape of his neck. It had a different appeal that the loose buns Draco made with his wand, but not necessarily any less. Besides the shyness in his demeanour, Draco looked sharp, the inherent sense of control it carried enough to make Harry’s heart flip. His eyes returned onto Draco’s.<br/>Without Erica by Harry’s side to balance out the grandeur of the empty room, they suddenly felt very alone in a large room. Inevitably and through pure instinct, Harry reached for Draco. Facing opposite directions, it was the back of Harry’s hand that brushed Draco’s hip, knuckles against the side seam of his trousers, staying there.<br/>“I just thought it was pure vanity,” he teased undeterred with a smile, no acknowledgement of the touch.