Do you ever get that feeling, that one you're being watched? I get that all the time. The second most disturbing thing is that I know who's watching me.
I know. I can feel his gaze on me during Potions. I feel it during meals in the Hall. It's always there, that searching gaze, belying the hatred in the façade he displays.
When we fight, he watches me. Not just for a hex. No, he watches my every move, even as I walk away.
And I don't care. Okay, okay, maybe I do care. I'm not supposed to, but, yes, I do.
He comes up behind me after Potions, saying, "Hey, Malfoy –"
"What?" I demand, holding my books tighter to my chest.
There it is again, that penetrating stare in those green eyes. I just feel vulnerable, bare, whenever he just looks at me.
People are beginning to look at us funny, and it's not just because we're blocking the corridor. He sighs and grabs me by the wrist.
"What are you –?" I start, but he's already pulled me into another hallway. He walks up to this hideous, hideous painting and swings it aside. The occupant of the portrait shouts at him, but he pays no notice as he roughly shoves me inside this hidden hallway and follows.
The portrait slams shut behind him, and it's dark in here. The walls are really close together – too close. He sighs and turns to me, and our noses are barely inches apart. Damn corridors built for anorexic midgets. I shall have to speak to my father about this.
"What's this about, Potter?" I demand, and I'm glad to see him wince.
"Well," he says quietly, pushing those glasses up his nose. "Um, hi."
"You pull me away by the wrist, shove me behind a portrait, and make me late to class, all just to say hi?" I spit incredulously. He's looking at me weirdly in the half-light slanting in from the other end of the hallway. The green of his eyes is blinding, almost hypnotizing. I force myself to look away.
"No, not really," he says, in that same quiet voice. This is really getting strange.
"I have my wand, Potter," I say nervously. "Don't think about trying anything, because…"
He sighs.
"Alright, well, fine," he says, his voice maybe a decibel louder than it was previously. "The real reason I brought you here is because, well… Oh, sod it."
For a crazy second, I think he's about to kiss me. I look up at him – when the hell did he get so tall – and close my eyes and part my lips expectantly.
When I reopen my eyes about twenty seconds later, he's still looking at me weirdly.
"You had the right idea, anyway," he says, and his lips come crashing onto mine.
"Hey, what?" I say, pulling away from him suddenly. "We're supposed to be enemies, aren't we? We aren't supposed to kiss in hidden hallways."
"Like anyone cares about rules, Malfoy," he says, and then pulls me into another kiss. This time, I let him. It's awkward, and our foreheads bang together a great deal, but, then again, nothing can be perfect. Well, not much can, anyway.
When he pushes me against the wall (like I could go anywhere else anyway), I realize that I don't care that I'm late for class. I don't care that this is not supposed to be happening. All I care about right now is the boy here with me, the boy with the wide green eyes, always watching.
After this, I don't mind being watched so much. It's actually kind of fun, this whole business. Not that I have a great deal of experience with it, but… Well, it's actually a whole lot like love.