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Summary
Malfoy’s gaze drifted, deliberately, to Harry’s face, then down to his crotch, then back up.
He could probably see exactly where Harry’s thoughts had gone and was taking some private satisfaction from it. Harry’s cheeks burned.
“Is there a reason,” Malfoy asked mildly, “that you’re staring at me as if I’ve sprouted a second head?”
Harry Potter has survived many things, but Draco Malfoy walking into the Auror Office with long, unfairly beautiful hair might just finish him off.
Ordering Draco to join him in a Ministry bathroom is, admittedly, a questionable choice, but Harry has never been very good at making sensible ones.