A/N: Reviews are loved greatly, but I stress the fact that just reading too is an honor to which I bow must humbly. Takk for din oppmerksomhet!

Chapter 2:

It was the last lecture of the day, and the entire class was yawning. 'Auror code of conduct' was a particularly boring subject. The professor was droning on about how to treat wrongfully accused perpetrators. Most students had their minds in other places and Harry was no exception. It was an ample opportunity to let his mind wander into Malfoy-musing mode.

Day to day life wasn't the same anymore. Everywhere Harry went he kept looking over his shoulder for Draco, catching a glimpse of him here or there but never actually bumping into him. When he didn't see him, he was on edge all the time afraid of what was going to happen if he was caught off guard. And when he did see him, there was this weird trickle of flush that he quickly had to quench.

This confused and disturbed Harry. He couldn't quite concentrate on anything, and he lay awake countless of hours during the week banging himself up about it. This was much worse than all those full scale fights they had back at Hogwarts. It had been hell when they lasted, but now he wished himself back there. Everything was better than this psychological terror.

There had been nothing for a couple of months. Then, out of the blue, during the course of three weeks time, they had brushed skin three times and now he was starting to get these jolts every time he saw that conniving son of a bitch. He had asked himself so many times if this was his plan, to drive him mentally insane just for kicks.

It was disconcerting that Malfoy wouldn't talk to him. That much was for certain because he had tried several times. So maybe there was a reason for that too, maybe he thought that if they talked he would give himself away somehow. A thesis was forming in Harry's mind, and it was going to be put to the test today.

Almost getting up to leave right away, he remembered that he was still in class. It would have to wait until after. Malfoy wouldn't even be out of his classes yet anyway. Crap, he thought to himself, a little embarrassed.

He took his time walking out in the hall after they were dismissed. The timing had to be perfect. To everybody else it had to look innocent and unintentional. But this would mean something for him.

The idea was to test if this feeling was something that came along only when Malfoy made the choice to come into contact with him, if it was some spell Malfoy transferred to him at his will. It was necessary to be just as stealthy as him and catch him when he was unaware of it.

It was the only way to check if the tingling came without the others involvement at all. Deluding himself into not hearing the very faint of growl from within him, he thought to himself: 'Pray the lords that it doesn't come.'

The last time an attempt like this was made, the subject in question didn't show up for the test. This time, however it did. Treating him as an 'it' made it easier to create a semblance of distance towards the whole thing.

Because the nervousness was now at a height where it was threatening to take over completel,y and chickening out seemed much easier than sticking to the plan. But the Gryffindor in Harry demanded that he stood his ground even in the face of complete fiasco. The curiosity of 'wanting to know' also made its presence known quite clearly.

Annoyance blended in with anxiety. The subject of pursuit was hanging around outside of the classroom kissing-up to some professor Harry had never seen before. If he skulked here for too long people might start to look at him weird, or worse still, talk to him. People tended to do that, make up some excuse just so they could have a good look at him. You'd think they were bored of all that, but it didn't seem like it.

At last he started walking. That old power of making people give way hadn't disappeared even though he wasn't exactly on the top of the food chain anymore. It was probably due to the cold grey eyes, slender forms and smooth way of moving around. Looking over everybody else and radiating a don't-dare-touch-me-aura. His blonde hair was always perfect in place folding around his forehand and neck, swishing in just the right places when he turned his head.

"Shut the fuck up", Harry told himself. This was no time to be admiring…

No not admiring, thinking about, the attitude of his stalker victim. But the way he held himself really was rather impressive… Nervousness was building itself up in Harry again. At least he thought it was nervousness, but it felt more like… butterflies.

God, he was a sap. This was just confusing and annoying. Better try to concentrate on the present. He convinced himself that he was doing this just so he could find out what hex he was put under, and shifted his focus to the task at hand.

Malfoy had a bag over his left shoulder, and a newspaper in his hand. As they turned a corner into another corridor Harry caught a glimpse of his face. The window let the sun through and a bright ray trailed along his facial lines.

That small frown, indicating deep concentration in the article, the mouth moving in a slight mocking gesture, his hair fell somewhat into his eyes which made him lift his right hand to brush it away. It looked absolutely beautiful. The whole scene took about three seconds but it made Harry snap for air as if he had been holding his breath.

However, he needed hits wits about him so he shook his head firmly. This was the moment. They were quite close now, and when Malfoy lowered his hand, he would cease his chance and let his fingers pass over the back of his hand as he knotted it.

Careful to not to make himself noticed he quietly snuck up behind Draco and prepared for overtaking him. He stretched out his fingers; Malfoy lowered his hand right on cue. But Harry had misjudged his gesture. He stretched out his fingers exactly like Harry. Like this their hands wasn't going to pass over each other, they were going to interlock!

But it was too late to figure out another move now. He would have to adjust so that he wouldn't get trapped in the grip. An uninvited image of them holding hands and smiling at each other came and went almost before it could be registered. In the second following that, Harry was at the passing point. His ears blocked out the noise from the rest of the people around them, so that it sounded like the pounding in his chest was as loud as a marching band.

This one maneuver would confirm that all the flurry of emotions was due to some control spell, it was vital to follow through. He let his left arm swing casually by his side and tried to keep his gaze from fixating on it. Malfoys' hand was open and had reached his side. Harry was centimeters from it now, but to his horror he saw out of the corner of his eye that Malfoy was about to lift his head and turn it slowly to his right.

It was now a matter of urgency. He brought his hand forward and let it trail along the open palm and lacing his fingers in with Malfoys. There was no way of resisting to look at their hands when they met. The touch felt like sparks that ran all the way up through his arm and into his neck where memories of the caress he had been given before still lingered.

Malfoy noticed it immediately. His head snapped up in wide surprise, and with a fearful expression he turned it hurriedly to his right. That was in the exact moment that Harry took one step ahead of Malfoy to pass him. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Foregoing coolness for the sake of needing to see what was going to happen, Harry looked up. This caused their eyes to meet. Damn him for not being able to control himself the way Malfoy could.

Harry could feel from the twitch in Malfoy's fingers that he was about to close them, as if he wanted to hold on to the gesture. There was no time to think about the reason for him wanting to do so. For now it was Harry who had the upper hand, and he didn't want to lose it by letting himself be captured. Just as he took the second step away and right before Malfoy's hand closed, he managed to twist his own hand free. A sense of loss from where the connection was broken coursed through Harry.

He chided himself and hurried off as fast as he could. But the temptation of looking back got too strong. Malfoy had actually stopped dead in his track and was looking at his clenched hand with bewilderment. But he must have noticed he was being watched because he looked up and fixed Harry with a murky expression. He turned his head and walked away even faster.