Author: Dany
Rated: PG-13 (for now)
Spoilers: So far none.
Summary: Some things can only be seen from a distance. Some people can only be loved, when they were hated first. D/H SLASH
Disclaimer: I do not claim or own the characters. I'm just borrowing them :)
Feedback: Sure, mail me/review and tell me what you think :)

Author's Note: Thanks so much to everyone for your lovely reviews, they mean a lot to me! I apologize for not updating a month XD but at least this chapter is twice as long as the previous one :) I hope you enjoy reading it, because I stayed up till 4am writing it and I really like how it turned out! R&R!


Also thanks to Glory for being my muse and to Leonie for beta-reading and correcting my evil typos!


Part Four: Touching Me, Touching You


I woke up with a strange and uneasy feeling today. Similar to foreboding but yet much worse than that. Something is running through my veins and it makes my blood feel cold and my body tense. It bites the flesh from the inside, wanting to get out, wanting to hunt and slivering up and down beneath my skin. It's warning me that sooner or later – whatever it is – it's going to break free and cause its damage.


Six hours have passed and I'm still restless as hell. In fact, the feeling of foreboding has gotten much stronger in the past fifteen minutes and I can barely manage to keep up my calm façade. Because of this I decide to skip lunch, try and rest a bit in my room – without success, of course – and am now making my way down deeper and deeper into the dungeons to the classroom where Potions is going to be taught.


I'm still quite early and so I take my time, my footsteps echoing lonely throughout the hallways. Everything else is silent and only the soft dripping of water somewhere down the halls can be heard. I know my way to Potions by heart and so my mind wanders, my feet carrying me automatically in the right direction. Whenever I'm down in the dungeons my head seems to calm down a bit and my headache seems to be fading. Down here I'm without the sickening chatting of the other students, who go on and on about nothing for seemingly endless hours; and without any walls that I built up around myself.


Down here, I'm free.


Of course, the dungeons are neither warm nor cozy with water dripping down on the walls and with the cold biting in your flesh. But at least they feel save. I can understand exactly why Professor Snape prefers these dark corridors over the Great Hall.


I'm brought out of my reverie when I finally arrive at the Potions classroom. The door is wide ajar and I enter, knowing that no one of the other students is going to be there yet, they always arrive a few minutes before class starts. Snape is already there, of course, but he does not seem to have the need to ankowledge my presence and continues to correct essays.


Mentally shrugging, I decide to take a back seat in the left corner today and as I put my things down on the table, Snape finally looks up and greets me with a curt nod which I return silently. The old man has never been one to talk much and I guess that's why he's also my favourite teacher. As strange as it sounds, in a way I can relate to him and his cold composure. I don't know much about him – I think no one actually does, except maybe that old fool Dumbledore – but I know why he is the way he is. And I respect that.


He goes back to work and I sit down, opening the thick Potions book and beginn to read chapter seven of the heavy book. The written words barely register in my mind, the feeling of uneasiness in my stomach starting again and I can hear my blood rushing through my veins. I feel my hands starting to sweat and I try to stop them from trembling but it doesn't work.


Something is so very wrong today. If I could only figure out what it is.


I sigh and look up, rubbing my eyes with my hands and then trying to relax. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Snape vanishing into another room, probably to get some potion indegrients. I lean over the book again and beginn to read. Two sentences, six sentences, a paragraphe.


The blood rushing to my head seems to get louder and everything else seems so far away. I suddenly feel my heart pounding loud but I cannot understand why. The letters in front of me are blurred. The sound of my heartbeat draws nearer and I silently ask myself if it can even do that before something abruptly snaps me out of my daze and I realize that the sounds I hear is not my heartbeat, but actually footsteps drawing nearer to the classroom.


I sit up straight, wondering who could be making his way to this class so early. Snape and me have never been interrupted in our 'Pre-Potions' time. No one bothers to come down here until he really has too. Until now, it seems.


The footsteps stop and I turn my head looking to the door, curious who it might be. I'm more than a little surprised when it's you standing in the doorway. You let your eyes travel over the empty classroom but you haven't noticed me yet.


My eyes graze over your body slowly, noting that you seem well rested compared to the last time I saw you. Your hair is ruffled as always but there are no longer shadows under your eyes. I shut my book and in a second your eyes are on me, slightly widening, and you take a few steps towards me.


Malfoy, you greet and it sounds as if you've never said my name outloud before. Your voice is deeper than usual and your eyes study me for a moment. Something inside of me makes me feel hot and I shiver when I look into these emerald green eyes of yours.


Potter, I return as greeting but it doesn't seem important because at this very moment my eyes are burning into yours and our souls are battling for something we call power but which - in reality - is just life.


Staring up at your face, I wonder how this encounter is going to turn out. Will it be 'civil' like our last conversation or is it going to turn into a fight? I intend to find out. I shift my gaze away from your face and for a moment I consider if I should wait and let you make the first move, but then I realize that I've never let you before. So why should I start now?


Where are your sidekicks? I ask, drawling slightly and you narrow your eyes. Thought you'd have made up with them by now. I add off-handly and watch as the anger beginns to sparkle in your eyes, even if it's just slightly. Satisfaction runs through my veins and I stand up slowly, making us the same height once again.


I study your eyes and realize that I've been waiting for this moment ever since the last time that I saw you. It's been a long time ago that your anger has been directed towards me, a long time ago that we've glared at each other with all this hate we used to feel for each other and only just now do I realize how much I've missed that.


Well, well, I drawl once again – knowing that it won't take long now to shatter your control, knowing which buttons to push – and my lips turn upwards into a small smirk. I pull up my right hand as if to cup your cheek but it stops mid-air, only an inch away from touching your soft skin. You study me intensely and I can see the wheels turning in your head and I know you're asking yourself over and over again 'What is he up to? What game is he playing?'.


A game, Harry Potter, that you will not be able to win.


Looks like someone here is finally dropping their masquerade. I finally say, a full smirk on my face now and although you don't move a muscle I can feel you flinch because you know that I'm right. The tension seems to built between us and then you finally snap and your eyes show a whirlwind of emotions – realisation, pain, anger but also something else that I just can't seem to describe with words. I don't know why or how but I've just seen something inside of you that no one else ever has. My hand reaches out to touch you but you jerk your head back, away from my touch.


Don't you dare. You whisper coldly but I can hear the slight trace of panic in your voice and I know that you're struggling with yourself at that very moment.


You can't touch me.


You say but your voice cracks slightly and I start to chuckle silently, licking my suddenly dry lips. I lean towards you and once again I reach out to touch you, my fingertips getting in contact with the soft skin of your cheek trailing slowly up your face. This time you don't flinch away but I can feel you tremble – uncertain and so afraid.


But I am touching you, Harry. My voice drops to a hoarse whisper before my hand touches your raven hair and my thump caresses your forehead gently.


Right here. I whisper and softly tap your forehead. Right here in your sweet little head. Your eyes widen and you shiver because you know that what I'm saying is so very very true. Still smirking I pull you closer and you stumble against me, no longer being able to move. I turn my head slightly to the right so that I'm softly breathing in your ear and another shiver runs down your spine.


And maybe… I whisper – lips brushing your ear -  my free hand sneaks between our bodies, running up your chest and stopping right at the place where your heart beats loud and steady. … in some way even right there. My fingers rub slightly against your chest to emphasize my saying and I feel the heat of your body against mine, the shudder of your breath down my neck, the way you gasp at the loss when I finally pull back to look you in the eyes again.


Green emeralds stare back at me surprised and you're shocked by my daring behavior, by the truth behind my words. Suddenly we're not rivals any longer, nor are we enemies, but something entirely different - something powerful and strong yet so fragile and lost.


My smirk turns into something like a smile as I step away from you. You stare at me as if you're too dazed to think clearly, your hot stare grazing over my body like fire. Something in the air changes and I feel my control slip slightly – suddenly feeling as if the tables have been turned.


My eyes flicker down to your mouth, to your pale pink and slightly parted lips, and my troath is suddenly dry, my heart beating wildly against my chest. I hear the blood rush through my body like a river and I run my tongue over my lips to wet them. For a moment I have the feeling that you're drawing ever closer to my face, that your lips part a bit more, your head bends slightly, until –


Mr. Potter, a sneering voice sounds through the classroom causing me to stumble back in shock, I do hope you are not threatening Mr. Malfoy. Or I may be forced to take points off your house, once again. The sarcastic tone of Professor Snape's voice is not lost on me, although I can't bother to look away from you.


You finally tear your eyes away from me, looking in Snape's direction slowly. Clearing your throat, you speak loudly. Of course not, Professor. You don't say anything else, cast one last glance at me – it seems like we've got our gazes locked for minutes – before packing your things up again and sitting down at the other end of the classroom.


I manage to sit down, shaking slighty. I try not to think about what just happened, about the way I lost control so easily and why my heart is beating faster than it ever has before.


My last thought before the first of my loud classmates arrive is how the hell I managed to lose the first round of my own fucking game? How is it possible that you can beat me on my own playfield?


Tell me, how?