Watching You

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Notes: Just a 'lil vignette. ^_^ If you're yaoi-minded, you'll see Draco/Harry or Harry/Draco. If not, you won't notice a thing. Enjoy~!

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Into his third piece of sliced ham, Harry began to feel just a tad antsy. Like a bug just about to be turned into a marble, he felt the intense scrutiny of a student as it inspected it's insectile prey. Looking up from his food, which had been delicious, he glanced around, unable to stop the back of his neck from crawling. Eyes locked with his, revealing a scrutiny so intent is was like being a bird staring into the gaze of a snake.

A span of time that suddenly became too short and too long, Harry was trapped in Malfoy's cold, gray gaze, locked onto silent thunderclouds, locked into stone, turning into stone, freezing. It was suddenly too cold and too hot.

He jerked his eyes away, breaking the link as he stared down at his slice of ham instead. It didn't stare back, but the fork quivered as his hand did. Chilly lasers were sweeping into him, razing his soul as the eyes three rows down continued to simply stare. Don't react, he wants that .... trying to make you do something ... It was working.

Harry stole a quick peek at the pale boy, wondering just what the little Slytherin had on his sneaky little mind. Malfoy's hand lifted food to his mouth, let the fork drop back onto the plate to scoop up more, before mechanically lifting to feed again. The eyes never dropped from Harry, never glanced at his food, and never, ever, paid notice to Crabbe and Goyle's little food fight. It was seriously creeping Harry out.

He was being Watched.

Determined to thwart whatever plan Malfoy was concocting, Harry finished his slice of ham. The eyes blinked but never wavered.

He started up a conversation with Hermione about the latest Transfiguration lesson, only to be thoroughly beaten by her superior knowledge. The gaze didn't flicker, making something inside begin to burn, whether from the horrid knowledge that something was going to happen, or from the scrutiny, he didn't know.

Ron asked him what was wrong, to which he answered nothing and then got his friend started into a play by play summarization of the last Quidditch game. He was still being Watched.

Dessert was being served, faces were being stuffed with ice-cream and cakes, Neville somehow managing to take a nosedive into the cheery sauce, much to everyone's hidden amusement. Pale fingers were lifted to pale lips as fruit juice was licked off drop by single drop out of the corner of Harry's eye.

Ginny giggled behind her hands and Percy sighed and tried to help Neville get the cheery goo out of his hair and clothes, only to be tripped into the mess himself by the ever opportunistic Weasley twins. Snickers rose from everyone who happened to be watching and points were deducted from Gryffindor by the irritated Professor McGonagall. The gray gaze intensified to the point of physical pain, leaving Harry to squirm restlessly in his seat and try to keep his attention firmly rooted on McGongall as she chewed the entire table out.

The bell rang but Harry was trapped within the watching, locked to his place even as he rose to leave.

Malfoy drifted through the hall, untouched in the mass stampede to class. A odd uplift to his lips twisted his features from dry to menacing as Harry's imagination worked overtime to come up with Draco Malfoy's Clever Plot.

Closer, closer, his head stabbing with pained anticipation, almost dizzy from the effort of keeping eye contact with Malfoy's pale, crisp eyes, determined to show no fear even as every inch of him burned.

Close, so close, too slow, he's moving too slow!!! With deadly intent, the Slytherin drifted near enough to touch, almost forcing Harry to put up a hand to defend, to attack, to do something, anything ... What are you going to do?! A sliver of wicked, wicked imagination provided every unspeakable answer and a few less unspeakable but no less horrifying ones.

He twitched in his place as Malfoy passed the table, drifting out of line with the door, dashing any illusions Harry had of escaping with his life and sanity, stepping so close he could feel the heat from the pale boy's body, a fan to his already burning flames.

The Slytherin was still. Still enough to simply not exist as the eyes stared, drilling, delving, seeming to shift through every inch of his soul, through every hate and love, want and desire ... tearing him slowly apart.

Watching, watching, watching, watching, watching ...

A breath of air on his cheek, a barest touch on his shoulder as he moved .....

.... and Draco simply walked past him.

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