“It’s alright,” Harry muttered as he stepped behind Draco’s chair.<br/>The easy acceptance of Harry’s meager attempt to help lifted a weight off Harry’s shoulders that he hadn’t realized he carried. It had felt presumptuous to think that Draco missed the affection, but Harry had found that he did.<br/>“I’m not sure I’d be able to tell the difference,” he added, a barely audible grin to his voice as he gently ran his hands across Draco’s temples, brushing his hair back behind his ears. There was no doubt in his mind that Harry was out of his depth on this particular subject matter, feeling quite certain he couldn’t provide any other help than to lend an ear for Draco’s considerations.<br/>His hands trailed the length of Draco’s hair, feeling for knots. Despite the frizz, he found none, the state of Draco’s hair speaking of frustration rather than neglect.<br/>When Harry's hands returned to the sides of Draco’s head, his fingers brushed against the curve of Draco’s jaw in a gentle encouragement.<br/>“Look up.”