Warning: Slash hints.

Note: The underlined pronouns are all referring to the same person.

Because That's The Way It Is

I watch him watch me. He watches me everytime he comes. Everytime he comes, I watch him. Its a game of cat and mouse, never ending. I don't want it to end, not yet. Nor does he. Everytime I close my eyes its just a second gone, a second wasted, never to be used again. I lost sight of him in that instant. I won't forgive myself for it. I'll try to catch his eyes, and when I do my eyes will then dart away, playing coy. It always works that way, because that's the way it is. I'll complain to my friends, and make a fuss about him being there; they'll never know my lies. He knows though, I can tell. When he'll tip his hand, I won't know. The question is, will I tip mine?

Ours is a facade of hate. Its a fued, one recongnized by all. If we were to be civil once to the other, it would be thought some sort of challenge to the other. It will never be suspected to be the reality that it is. They can look all they like, examine as much as possible, but they won't. Its odd, really, that even Snape cannot tell. He knows something is off-kilter, but what he has still to determine; he won't. On the possibilty of anyone noticing, it would have to be his son. However, I know he would turn a blind eye on the thought, if only because he believes his father's lies. I laugh because its all so surreal. I never thought I would care to look, and to be looked at by him. I was wrong.

Sometimes I don't bother to make myself feel better about it all, I just accept the truth for what it is. Perhaps another day will come that will change my mind on my feelings. How I feel currently is confused, yet excited. Just knowing that he is looking creates a odd shiver to run down my spine mercilessly. When I look back, does he feel the same, or is his hand hiding a well planned game? Can it be possible that this will grow like a well taken care of flower, or will the leaves shrivel up and die within days of ignorance? These are my thoughts, and they tell me to end it. I won't though, because I can't. Not yet, not until I know, not until I'm sure. Its something that I must do for myself, and I will not stop now, not after all this time.

If my life is ended for some reason relating to this, it won't be for nothing, and my family and friends will learn of this.. 'affair', you could call it. I am not so stupid as to not leave a well updated journal of events happening in my life. I will not be crossed for nothing. If it causes my death, the pain of my family will be returned ten fold onto him. I suppose I'm more Slytherin than I care to believe. That's rather funny though, as its believed I'm about the perfect symbol for my house. They don't know anything, which is part of the reason I must leave this journal for them to find. I refuse to be thought of incorrectly when I'm dead. If I'm brought down in the mud because of him, he will come down just as hard as I.

Although I know I shouldn't have, I followed him once. I watched him go to a secluded field nearby, and I followed in the shadows. Even though I took care to not be heard or seen, he could sense me. He called me out, asked questions of me and my following him. I replied, and a carefull and light-treaded converstation ensued. It revealed things of interest unto us both, and what I learned will forever be burned into my brain. There are clues in his words I have still to figure out, clues to something that will tell me of something more important than anything other. I have written word for word what he told me, and I try again and again to piece it all together. Most times I need references to books found in the restricted section of the library. For this reason I stay awake until all others are asleep, so that I may be able to get access to the books that I need in secret from all others.

It will be a while before I figure it out, but I will, without any help. And when I do, that's when I'll make my move, if one hasn't been made yet. I know something is going on here, but I'm not quite sure what it is. I'm not worried though; I can handle it, I know I can. So if I don't screw this up somehow, and nobody actually looks, it'll be okay, not matter the outcome. It might cause some pain, some anger, but I can tell its all going to be worth it in the end. Don't ask me how I know; maybe I'm just smarter than you. Until the time that I figure it out though, I will watch him watch me, because he watches me everytime he comes. Its still a game of cat and mouse, never ending, but we don't want it to end; not yet. So I'll watch him, but I'll blink and lose my sight. I won't forgive myself. I'll catch his eyes, just to look away. Because that's the way it is.

----

Disclaimer: I have not, do not, and will not ever own the works known as "Harry Potter" by J.K. Rowling. As such, all written by myself is for my own reasons and purposes. No profit is being made off of this writing. Thank you.

Note: This was written in the view of a Hogwarts student talking about someone already graduated. Do guess who they are.

This is a one-shot I am thinking of continuing. If you wish for me to do so, please leave a review stating so.