Had he known what she was thinking he certainly wouldn't have pouted like he had when she made him take off the wet clothes. It really wasn't that much of a hardship, but now the cool air hit his skin all the more. "I was gonna dry them first," he responded, letting her remove the clothing she wanted off. Despite the cold, he really had nothing to complain about.
Harry probably should have felt a bit sheepish standing there, his jeans around his ankles, dripping wet, and his hair ridiculously mess thanks to Daphne, but the thought never made it through his mind. Harry blamed it on the kiss. It was most certainly the kiss. Accepting the towel from her, he dried as much of his skin as possible before wrapping it around his waist. His wand was around there somewhere. He needed to clean up the mess.
Eventually finding his wand on the counter, he cleared the water, dried his clothes and sent them to the laundry. Grabbing another towel, he headed back into the bedroom, getting some of the water from his hair, it kept dripping cool water down his neck. Once he was done, both towels ended up in the laundry basket and he ended up buried under a pile of blankets with his arms around Daphne once more.