"… What are you doing?"
He watched as the blonde man turned around slowly, and upon seeing him, widened his eyes as his cheeks pinked.
Harry mentally shook that thought away – that would go nowhere good. He refocused on the other man, who was apparently … shopping for pink dresses. Doesn't he have a goddaughter? Frilly pink dresses, covered in bows and ruffles, two of which were being held up by the adorable man – shut the fuck up Harry, what the hell? – who had a bewildered look on his pale face.
"What are you doing here, Potter?" Malfoy hissed at him, cheeks darkening further at being caught buying children's dresses. Not that Harry was judging him; they were in the same shop, after all.
"I'm looking for a present for Rose, it's her birthday soon."
Malfoy blinked, taken aback. Harry's lack of argument probably shocked him, but Harry honestly couldn't be bothered to muster up any sort of anger for the other man. The war had already been finished for a decade, and they were both adults now. Jesus Christ, I'm not far off thirty. I feel old already.
He blinked back to awareness. "Sorry, did you say something?"
The other man scowled, though his face was flushed in what appeared to be embarrassment.
"I said, seeing as how you were raised by muggles, can you explain how I'm supposed to find a specific size for this?" he bit out through gritted teeth.
Harry smiled at him. "Sure. If you look at the label here, it has the sizes written down –"
He cut off hearing an intake of breath; he'd leaned over what Malfoy was holding, apparently a little too in his personal space judging by the look he was sporting.
Harry cleared his throat and started to lean back. "Sorry, I didn't mean to –" He bit his lip. "I mean –"
This time when he cut off, it was because there were lips on his.
Well then …
He mentally thanked the privacy of the high shelves and pulled the Slytherin closer.