A/N: I think this story may be shorter than my others because it all takes place within a short 4 ½ day period.... Oh well. -shrug- we'll see.

Chapter Four- The Ever Watchful Gaze

Draco leaned on his desk, scribbling furiously on a paper regarding the hearing of a wizard he'd taken down last week. Draco's brow creased in annoyance, and he scribbled faster. He had a hard time writing one particular sentence and rewrote it three times, though each time it said the same thing.

Finally, Draco put his quill in it's bottle and smacked his hand down on the table. The witch in the cubicle next to him gasped in shock but didn't come to investigate. Draco raised his gaze and locked eyes with a particularly unaware green eyed male. He was unaware because he seemed completely unfazed by the fact that Draco was giving him a death glare.

"Will you stop it?" Draco snapped in a whisper. Harry raised a curious eyebrow.

"Stop what? I'm just sitting here," he replied. Draco held the table tightly.

"Exactly. You've been sitting there staring at me for three hours now! It's driving me insane!" Draco complained.

"Why?" Harry asked innocently. He leaned back in his chair and watched Draco seethe. Yes. It was true. Harry and Draco had moved to Draco's office across the hall where Draco began to work for the day, and Harry distracted him unintentionally by watching how he moved when he worked. Apparently two hours of staring was too much.

Still, Draco hadn't answered the question yet and even seemed to be questioning his own anger about it. Draco's body softened up and he adopted a puzzled look on his face. Why had he been angry about Harry staring at him? That's what Harry read in that look.

"Draco?" Harry called the blonde's attention back to him. "Why?" he asked again when he locked gazes with the blue-gray eyes of his love.

Draco averted his eyes almost instantly and took to staring at the place where Harry's cloak made his legs invisible. He shrugged. Well, one problem was solved. Draco wasn't angry anymore. But that still didn't answer a few questions.

"Draco?" Harry asked, catching a quick glance up from the blonde. "What were you trying to tell me before I left?"

"What?" Draco asked, obviously not following Harry's thought process.

"When I left for Germany... you called to me and made me stop walking, but then you didn't say anything. You just turned back into my cubicle. What were you going to say?" Harry clarified.

Again, Draco went silent. He drummed his fingers on the table three times, and Harry didn't interrupt. He waited silently, patiently. Draco was dead when he came back. Right now, Harry was content watching Draco move. He was in no hurry to get to the day of the death. Draco glanced up at Harry twice. His body became stiffer, showing he was feeling Harry's unending stare again.

"Malfoy!"

Draco flinched so badly that his chair almost fell over again. Harry was under his cloak and out of the chair as fast as was possible. Then a stock of red hair entered their view. George. George Weasley had come to pay Malfoy a visit.

"What do you want, Weaselby?" the blonde barked. Harry supposed George sort of deserved it for scaring them both out of their wits.

"I was lookin for Harry. Have you seen him?" George asked, appearing to not have noticed Draco's stiffness nor any sign of Harry under his cloak.

"Not since he left for Germany nearly four hours ago, no," Draco replied in annoyance. "Why?"

George shrugged. "Just thought he might be interested in going to the beach with me and my family this weekend. You could come too if you wanted. I'm sure Harry would like the company."

"Why would Potter want me to-," Draco began. Harry was shocked and started to move to motion for George to just shut up, but then remembered he was invisible and it would do no good. "-come to the beach with him when he has the entire hand-me-down gang to hang out with?"

"Oh... You never know," George said with a shrug and a little wink. Then he laughed a little as he left, saying something about using an owl. Harry exhaled quietly, glad that the traitor was gone. He was so close to just outright telling Draco, wasn't he?

"Potter," Draco's voice was terse and suspicious. Harry tensed. Oh. Draco had picked up on something hadn't he? The boy with the scar pulled off his invisibility cloak and smiled.

"Yes?" he asked innocently.

"Answer the question," the young Malfoy heir ordered, leaning on his desk and gazing at Harry as though he could read him like a lie detector.

"Why would I want to bring you to the beach when I have the Weasley family?" Harry asked. "Well, we're friends too, aren't we? I mean... I think of us as friends. I don't know about you, but anyway... It's not secret that I want you and the Weasleys to get along. Otherwise, I wont be able to drag you around to Christmas and birthdays and-"

"Harry, you already do that," Draco reminded him. Harry laughed.

"Oh, well I guess I do. But you never seem to be enjoying yourself, so you need to loosen up around them. One extra outing wont hurt anyone, right?" Harry asked, hoping his little half-lie wouldn't be discovered. It was all true, but it wasn't the total reason Harry would invite Draco to ... well, anything!

Then Harry paused a moment. He looked at Draco as though trying to find something in his hair or on his face. Draco blushed. Oh, he knew what Harry was reacting to, didn't he?

"You called me by my first name," Harry pointed out.

"Yeah, so what of it? We're friends, aren't we?" Draco asked, looking as far away from Harry as he could without turning his chair. His blush was obvious against his pale skin and creamy hair.

Harry smiled.

"Yeah. Thanks," he said, dissolving back into his quiet revering stare. Draco didn't seem to mind anymore... that or he was too embarrassed to talk right now. Harry suspected it was the latter because of the blush that stretched perfectly over Draco's perfect nose and brightened his soft cheekbones, fading down into the cheeks.

It was almost another half an hour before Draco set his quill down again. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Harry had to concentrate so as not to sigh in the rush of emotions he felt from that simple action. Then Draco picked up his quill again, now fresh with ink, yet he wrote nothing. His quill hovered as though he were thinking.

"It makes me nervous," Draco muttered. Harry listened closely, but said nothing. "When you stare at me, I get nervous... and before you ask why, it's because I care what you're thinking. And if you're staring at me, you're probably thinking about me... and I get nervous because I don't know what about me it is that your thinking. I suddenly have to move slower or concentrate on everything I do so I don't mess up, and I worry more about if my clothes are out of place or there's something on my face... because I don't know why you're staring or what you're staring at."

Draco seemed put off and saddened by the idea. Harry smiled softly and moved his chair right up to Draco's desk. He leaned on it and made sure Draco could see his smile.

"Most of the time... I'm just staring at you because you're an interesting person to watch," he admitted. This caused Draco to blush again, much to Harry's delight. It wasn't dark, but because of Draco's skin tone it was obvious again. If Harry were to blush the same way, no one would notice because it would blend in with his skin.

"You're so full of shit," Draco accused without looking at Harry. "And you're very distracting. Just sit in the corner or something, and I'll be done soon."

Harry laughed at that. He almost forgot to keep his voice low and quickly covered his mouth to muffle the sound further. Draco shrugged as though shaking off his embarrassing thoughts or what Harry had said. The blush vanished quickly, and Harry did as he was told. In the corner, Harry could still watch Draco, but it was more like a portrait from over here. It was a scene Harry couldn't touch or alter.... It was nice.

– – – – –

Draco sauntered out of the auror's office. He stepped onto the lift and waved half heartedly at Neville Longbottom who had just stepped off. On a normal day, Draco would have ignored the brief hello and wave, but today was so odd already that he didn't even think about it. He just waved back. It wasn't until he registered the slightly shocked expression on Neville's face just as the lift closed and began to move that he realized what he'd done. Draco stared at the hand that had waved, almost as if it were someone else's arm. Somewhere to his right, a giggle sounded.

"Shut up, Potter," Draco grunted. He dropped his hand to his side and leaned back against the wall. Harry's hand set on his shoulder, though Draco couldn't see it. He could feel it well enough.

"Sorry. But that was good. You responded. People here actually like you, believe it or not. They just don't know how to approach you, cause you seem so distant all the time," Harry explained. "You should wave back more often."

"I didn't mean to wave back this time," Draco argued. "And anyway, why would I want to be friends with anyone here? We have nothing in common and... well I'm better than them!"

"Right," Harry said sarcastically, removing his hand. Draco frowned. "Because unlike you, they aren't human beings, wizards, or aurors."

Draco frowned deeper. "Interests, idiot. You knew what I meant."

"You should try the first name thing again. I liked it," Harry suggested, unable to stop the slightly snippy attitude he used whenever he responded to Draco being a stubborn idiot.

They lapsed into silence. Since Draco couldn't see him, Harry watched him again and tried to figure out what he was thinking. Draco's right fist kept clenching an unclenching, like Draco couldn't decide if he was angry or not. The left hand, the one nearest Harry, gripped tightly to a roll of parchment Draco was carrying. He was going to give it to a generic owl to send, but seemed to have decided it best to use his own. Otherwise, it would already be gone.

Harry wondered what Draco was thinking so tensely about. Draco's hair fell in wisps in front of his eyes. Draco hadn't cut his hair short, like his father would have liked. He kept it in a similar style and length as his last two years at Hogwarts. He no longer greased it, unless it was a special occasion and even then he didn't put as much in it. His excuse had been that the product he used to make his hair slick back like that made his hands feel like slime for several hours afterward. His mother disagreed - she used to put it in his hair for him when he was little -, but Draco wouldn't let her talk him out of it.

Harry liked the way Draco's hair fell freely now. It made it much more... touchable. It set him apart from Malfoy senior, who was struggling to keep people on his side at work and no longer had the position he used to hold, in a more physical way.

"Harry-," Draco began, as though he wanted to say something. Then he stopped. The lift had announced their arrival onto the main floor.

By watching Draco's hair shift and the way those gray eyes blinked, Harry must have lost track of just how long they'd been in the lift. It seemed like only a second had passed and the doors were already opening. A mass of wizards greeted them, and Harry watched Draco's stature become stiff and worried. Harry hardly had time to think about the hassle a crowd put on him staying hidden. Draco grabbed hold of him by the arm just above his wrist. Then he walked briskly off the lift, ripping Harry along with him.

By staying close and holding tightly to his cloak, Harry somehow managed to make it through the crowd without being discovered and only bumping into three people. Also amazing was that no one noticed how Draco's arm was a bit straighter than it would be were he walking without holding onto someone, and no one noticed how three of Draco's fingers were partially missing.

Draco slowed to stroll and released Harry's arm. That was a pretty good grab, actually... considering he had only a vague idea of where Harry might be standing. Harry looked at Draco and brought his arm up and held it where Draco had. It had been too tight a hold, but that had to show Draco cared... enough to keep Harry from being caught, at least.

"Thanks," he said, though he didn't think Draco understood how much he meant it.

"No problem," Draco shrugged as he headed for the door onto the street. He didn't even glance at the fireplaces. It would be too obvious if the fireplace ignited for someone who wasn't there or someone heard Harry call out where he wanted to go.

The crisp England air whipped past them as though trying to rip the cloak right off of Harry. Draco stepped up to Harry, probably not knowing just how close he was. Harry's breath stopped and his heart thrummed loudly in his own ears. Draco held out his hand for Harry to take. When Harry's hand slipped from under the cloak, Draco grabbed it and they apparated away.

When they appeared in their new location, Harry saw the Malfoy summer home, which Draco now owned and lived in. Draco stepped away from Harry and shrugged off his coat. He set the clothing on the coat rack by the fireplace and fixed his hair with his fingers. Harry let his cloak fall off, crumpling on the floor at his feet. He was watching Draco's back as its muscles flexed and moved. The length of his sleeves left the lower half of his arms exposed. It was an eerily similar shirt to....

A vision of Draco laying on that hospital bed flashed into his mind, then Draco in his casket... and the thought that Draco might never wake up again.... Harry shook his head. He tried to concentrate on how good it was to see the way Draco moved... just watching the small of his back.

Draco turned around to face Harry again and hesitated. He looked conflicted.

"Harry," he began, which must have taken most of that effort. "Why are... You're crying?"

Harry blinked and felt the tears. He quickly reached up to touch them and pulled his hand away in shock. When had those started? He'd been doing such a good job of not thinking about his sadness over the death today. When had it gotten so bad that he'd started crying again? Harry furiously wiped away his tears on his sleeve and tried to laugh them off.

"Sorry. I don't know where they came from. Don't worry about it. I'm alright," he assured the blonde. Then, in the time it took Harry to wipe once across his eyes, Draco had moved to Harry's side.

"Don't lie to me," he murmured out a scolding. The next movement Draco made was hesitant and shy, but it happened. He started to hug Harry, but then he recoiled and just put one arm around his shoulders, pulling Harry's head down into his own shoulder. "I hate it when you lie to me." and this was said with sense of somberness.

Preview: Chapter 5 - The Secret Treasure Room

"Mr. Potter?"

It was like Harry had summoned them with a thought. There, standing just inside the room from the hallway, was a house elf.

"My name is Polly. I work for Master Draco. It's an honor to finally be in your presence, sir," she said.

The door under Polly's hand unlocked and swung open. The elf turned on the lights with a snap of her fingers and then happily beckoned him forward.

"What is all of this, Polly?" Harry asked.

"Master Draco's secret treasure," Polly explained.