Eyes On You
by MagickBeing

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A/N: I found this laying around on one of my USB drives. I don't remember when I wrote this, but I thought I'd finally post it and put it to some good use.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and co. belong to J.K. Rowling. The song featured in this oneshot is Eyes On You by Automatic Loveletter. No copyright infringement is intended.

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I am proud, I am strong..

And you've been here all along.

I didn't know it until today,

I'm so glad it happened this way.

A loud creak, followed by the sound of heavy wood against stone—Harry cringed. He didn't bother glancing up from his cauldron and instead began to scrub it a bit harder, leaning into the movement and letting the sound of the pumice against the metal drown out all sound. He kept his eyes down, heart loud and in his throat. He wasn't sure who was there—it could be one of two people, and really, Harry wasn't sure which one he would prefer. He had put himself on the line by writing that note and it was very likely he was going to regret it, but it was too late and what ever happened now happened. Or at least that's what he kept trying to tell himself.

Somewhere across the room, there was a large scuffling—Harry flinched and pressed the pumice closer to the metal, goosebumps up and down his arms. The scuffling grew closer and then stopped. He was tense, so tense, and yet he kept his eyes on the dark surface closest to him. A slight breeze, a possible movement, and then there were hands on his arm's—gentle and warm—and someone's body against his back. Harry swallowed hard, shifting a bit where he sat. The pumice stilled against the metal and he realized his breathing had become slightly labored. He clenched his jaw, eyes surveying the polished iron in front of him. He suddenly realized how uncomfortable and cold the floor was as the person moved closer, their chin resting against his shoulder.

His eyes slipped shut. He was afraid to look—looking would make this real, and he was afraid of that. He was afraid that it was just a trick, a cruel, horrible trick, or worse yet—maybe if this wasn't a trick, and it was real, he would realize he no longer wanted it.

The person shifted, their right hand moving from Harry's arm and to his shoulder. Their touch was light, barely there, and tickled his neck.

"When did this happen?"

The question wasn't quite a whisper—more of a sigh—but curious and justified nonetheless. His heart skipped a beat at the sound, and his words came quicker than he would have thought—

"I don't know. It just hit me."

"Are you afraid?"

Harry swallowed, eyes opening and staring ahead.

"Yes."

"..but certain?"

He hesitated, not because he was unsure, but because the answer frightened him more than anything.

"Very."

The person shifted again, smiling against his neck. He still had goosebumps.

"..are you afraid?"

The question spilled from Harry's lips before he could stop it.

There was no hesitance.

"A little."

"But certain?"

"Yes."

Again, no hesitance, and Harry found himself smiling. Without putting to much thought into it, he shifted where he sat, his body pressing a bit closer to the other's. He raised his right hand, mirroring the other's earlier action, and caught the hand against his neck.

Their fingers intertwined automatically.

Very carefully, Harry shifted again, turning a bit where he said. The other had the upper hand—they were sitting on stool behind Harry, practically straddling him—if they had been closer, that is.

Before he looked, Harry asked one more question—"When did it happen?"

"I don't know," the other recited quietly. "It just hit me."

He turned a bit more, green eyes catching silver, and his body relaxed.

Hold on now,

You're leaving.

Take these hands,

Don't even say goodbye.