Fluff
by Silvia
He doesn't mean anything by it, but. His fingers. They slip.
They skid along the short oak desk and hit the warm back of a hand. Skid under.
Harry's thumb is rubbing lightly at the inside of Draco's wrist.
The skin there is all soft, and Harry tries to trace the veins, mentally trying to track them, and gets so distracted with it that he doesn't get that everyone's noticed and is staring at them.
It's. Too small -- everything is. Harry flushes, and looks up to see Draco's already flushed, and Draco's eyes dart away, won't meet his, but he doesn't take his hand away either.
And Harry's chokes, a little, and kind of gets out, "um. I. didn't." And Draco's head snaps back to meet his eyes head on -- "Didn't what, Potter?"
And Harry can feel everyone's eyes, even though everyone is only Hermione and Seamus and Dean and Neville and some Hufflepuff girl that he's never even met before.
And then, and then he gets it, and he says, "nothing," and Draco nods, and they're not doing anything, except holding hands and not talking about it and maybe, while everyone's watching, falling in love.