When Malfoy's not smirking, he's not sure what to do with his lips. He'll chew them, sometimes, when he's nervous, or use a pout to convince his cronies of something. He licks his lips near constantly, and sometimes they almost form a smile.
Harry notices these things about Malfoy's lips. He probably shouldn't, should probably spend his time figuring out how to save the world, or bestowing his attention on the beautiful girls that trail behind him, but instead he catalogues Malfoy's moods.
There's whiny, and rude, and snarky, and cruel. There's pissed off and dramatically morose. There's disgusted and appalled and sometimes, if Harry stares for awhile, there's flustered. Malfoy colours, ever-so-slightly, and appears to hold back a smile.
Harry finds those single moments enough reason to follow Malfoy's movements with his eyes, to trail behind him subtly, and though sublety is not his forte, he can sometimes manage it with the invisibility cloak. When he's invisible like that, he can almost gather up the nerve to touch Malfoy's skin, see if he's truly as cold as he looks.
Sometimes Malfoy's amiable, and in those moments Harry forgets to hate, and calls him Draco in his mind.
Father,
As always I have scored third, under the mudblood, and that cocksure stuck up Boot. I'm back at school. Crabbe and Goyle said that their fathers said that He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named plans to break you out. I'm sure he'll succeed.
In other news, Potter either has developed a crush on me, or is planning to kill me. I haven't decided which, but I find infatuation the more humorous route.
strike I miss you /strike Yours,
Draco