The glint, the hint, the rustle.
Out of the corner of his eye, on the periphery of his field of vision, almost there... Draco stops, turns around and waits. Nothing, as usual. But just let him move and continue on his way and the shadow, the feeling at the nape of his neck will be back. Another ghost in the castle, this one completely invisible. This one causing the waves of heat to travel through his body, instead of the cold freezing blood in his veins. The shimmer, and fingers close around Draco's wrist.
The kiss, the sigh, the moan.