When Draco set them in motion, Harry didn't look back. It didn't even occur to him, how part of the kiss was supposed to solidify their affection and attraction; how he, perhaps, should have ended the display with an intentionally coy smile in the direction of the under-secretary. The fact that she had been watching had completely left Harry's consciousness. Instead, he willingly followed as Draco filtered them through the crowd. A barely-there smile ghosting at the corners of his mouth, finding it impossible not to glance up at Draco's profile.<br/>Harry's heart felt like it was leaping out of his chest; and they had only been at it for mere hours. He was in over his head. He realized it the moment he adjusted his hand around Draco's arm, how he already had a sense of just how his hand should curl around Draco's bicep for it to be comfortable. It was too familiar, too quickly, and, regrettably, with no end in sight.