Harry forgets to breathe when she pushes in, watching her eyes flutter shut. He doesn't remember anything ever feeling like this. Draco stays still for a moment, making sure Harry has time to adjust, but the way her fingers are pressing into his neck and hips give away it's costing her no little effort. She meets Harry's eyes in the mirror, and doesn't ask again before pushing in all the way, until they're flush with each other. Harry sees the eager desperation written on his own face, and it's enchanting. It feels like a confrontation, facing himself like this, but it's rewarding in a way he can't wrap his head around. 