It took Draco to turn for Harry to look away. It was painfully embarrassing to be caught staring and, as Harry aimlessly stared into his papers, he felt a heat creep up the back of his neck. Draco Malfoy was known for roaming the streets of London, and Harry was well aware that he would only do that as long as he could roam uninterrupted. Therefore, Harry fought the instinct to glance up again, and instead ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to gather his thoughts on the text before him.<br/>This, however, turned to be a wasted effort, because within a minute of Harry lowering his gaze, he heard his name being said in a familiar voice and a chill ran down his spine. Utterly surprised and disoriented he looked up, just to see Draco who was standing in front of him. It was absolutely mind blowing that he had approached<span style="font-style: italic">him</span>, and if Draco's voice and face not been as recognisable, Harry might have doubted whether or not it actually was the singer.<br/>"Yeah, hi," he stuttered, his voice echoing every thought that went through his mind. There was a small grin on Harry's features, brought there by the sheer ridicule of the situation. The girl seated across from Harry seemed to follow the conversation, and she looked as surprised at Harry felt. "Of course I remember you."<br/>Harry had to fight his instinct to say<span style="font-style: italic">I know who you are</span>instead, but even rephrasing it felt dumb, like he was just stating the obvious; how could he not know who Draco was?