Life in His Eyes

Draco was sure that he was captivated by the muggle girl because of her eyes – not her looks. They were a simple color of brown, but it felt as if he could read her whole life story by simply looking into them. They were filled with sadness and despair as if she had seen her world fall apart in front of her, and she could only stand there watching. Yet, even though they held such sadness, there was still a single sliver of happiness in them that shone through her face as she gave him that half-hidden smile, which almost always made her whole face smile.

Sometimes, in the depths of the night when he couldn’t fall asleep, Draco wondered if the muggle could see the guilt and cowardliness in his eyes like he could see her tragedy and happiness. It rather frightened him, and it was no help in sending him to sleep.

His pace at the moment was quicker than his usual pace since his mother had forced him to lunch with her. He had tried to eat as quickly as he could, so he wouldn’t be late at starting his walk and enjoying the sun, though he knew for a fact that that was a terrible lie to tell to his parents. They all knew he didn’t particularly enjoy the bright sun. With an umbrella perched under his arm, he could feel a sort of strange happiness come over him at the sight of familiar gray clouds brewing in the sky. It was a familiarity he liked.

He just turned the corner when the rain started to come down, and Draco was quick to push open the umbrella and lift up his face to see the beautiful muggle stepping out of the bookstore. She had a tiny paper bag full of books – he presumed. He could tell that she was looking wearily up at the sky as she stood under the small roof over her head, and Draco felt a little delight in him as he realized that this might be his chance to finally speak to her.

It had been weeks since he first saw her, and it was always separated by glass and a bit of distance between them. He knew her schedule like the back of his eyelids, though it wasn’t a very concrete schedule. The muggle came two days of the weeks, though it was never the same days as the last. She came at the same time, and she always had a different book in her hand, though Draco never understood them because he didn’t know anything outside of “oui,” “non,” and “bonjour.” It was a depressing amount of vocabulary since he had been staying in France for at least three weeks.

With a few quick steps, he was standing beside her and covering her with the umbrella. He didn’t think about it or even tried to talk himself out of it, though he could feel a hint of heat creep up the back of his neck. The feeling was unpleasant to say the least, but Draco was a bit pleased by the sudden wide-eyed reaction he received from the girl. They stood in rather awkward silence as they looked at each other.

“Bonjour,” she murmured weakly before she lifted a hand to her mouth to cough before she said again, “Bonjour,” a bit more confidently. “Merci beaucoup pour le parapluie.” He was sure his face was a mix of confusion and delight because he was finally talking to her, but he guessed he was showing more confusion then delight because she started speaking English. “Um, thank you for, uh,” she seemed to pause for a moment, scrunching up her nose as she tried to find the word before giving up and pointing up at the umbrella.

“Umbrella,” he finished with a small smile on his face that he hadn’t noticed - until then - was stretched across his face. “You’re welcome,” he nodded his head. “Where are you going?” he asked as he shoved the hand that wasn’t holding an umbrella into his pocket. It took her just a moment to decipher what he was saying before she was pointing down the road he had always headed.

They began walking in silence with Draco occasionally looking at her, giving curious looks. He could tell that the freckles dotting her face were fewer than he had thought there were. She had pinkish red lipstick on her lips that went swell with her face, and his eyelashes were long – almost brushing against the tops of her cheeks. The muggle swung her bag lightly back and forth as if she was a little child with a bag of candy, and she hummed softly under her breath as she drummed her unused hand against her thigh. He was taking in all this information – trying to store all facts in a safe location his brain where he would never forget it.

“C’est moi,” she spoke out of nowhere, suddenly stopping, which made Draco hurry to stop. He was trying to figure out what c’est meant when she smiled a dazzling smile in his direction, making him lose all thought because this was the first time he saw her smile without a book in the way. “This is me,” she told him as she pointed behind him at the small townhouse between two others. It was tall and white with a small black balcony on the second floor. Potted plants sat on the balcony, and he felt his eyes run over it before they returned to her. “Thank you, um, again,” she nodded as if to confirm that what she said was correct. Her English was definitely much better compared to his French.

The muggle was already turning away when he came to his senses, and he felt himself trying to do something – anything – to stop her before he spoke. “I’m Draco,” he told her hurriedly. She turned around to look at him before smiling again.

“I’m Nathalie,” she replied, and she stood on her tiptoes because she was just a tad too short to kiss each of his cheeks on the flat of her feet.