Behind His Eyes

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter and Co., because if I did, I’d be filthy rich. And right now, according to my bank account, I’m depressingly poor.

Another one of my whims. I wrote this during homeroom. Again. You guys should thank my teachers for homeroom, lol. I’ve had so many stories come out of them.

Enjoy! It’s not long, but I like it.

- Behind His Eyes -

It was inevitable, she knew - ruthlessly barefaced, with no alibi to unearth. She could not retrace her steps, nor could she backtrack in time. The raw truth was just there, a circle, with no apparent beginning; the end, it seemed, was not in sight. She had begun to notice it in the way her eyes strayed for just a bit too long on his face, the way her heart palpitated dangerously in her chest whenever he said her name, the way her entire body seemed to flush in his presence … She had tried to ignore it, but it worsened drastically, until it was suddenly no longer a wistful adoration, but a blazing desire, fueled and heightened by his charming grin and childlike innocence. This was burdened with a streak of callowness sometimes unavoidable even for him; but, even as she scoffed, angry and upset at his rash ways, her mind slowly collapsed, bringing with it all of her irritation and asperity. She merely could not be angry in his presence for too long.

Her respect, sometimes begrudgingly against her will, had grown over the years, and she had succumbed to the quiet reality that she respected him above everyone else. He had suffered through so much, his whole life one constant, raging battle, and yet he had never drifted waywardly. She marveled at this, pondered over its meaning, but alas could never pinpoint the true reason behind his unwavering kindness.

And then, before her thoughts had sealed themselves to the fact, it began again. Hauntingly exciting, it was the feeling that, in fact, all of these new emotions were genuine. But for what purpose did they arise? Usurp her strenuous judgment? Was she merely caught in the web between reality and imagination, a pawn in life’s everlasting game?

As she stared raptly at the bleeding sunset, she knew it was not so. She was never one to drift past common sense. He needed her and thus, she was made. It had been foreseen. There was something deeper than companionship when she felt that fierce pull of loyalty against her heartstrings. The way her eyes glinted with the steely passion to help him, only him … He strove so eagerly against all odds, to come out victorious in the end; she knew she would be there. Standing next to him, steadfast and empathetic, she would hold her ground as a friend and only a friend. For his sake. Her own could be buried elsewhere, hiding. Always hiding. Bravery was unknown; it was only nobility, to save him. Only him. He was the importance of the world, not she.

The lake gleamed with the waxing moon when she set her course that night, and as she ambled carelessly toward the indenture where he sat silently, he looked as if he were washed with a cold, ghostly light. His eyes were callous, and a fear was roused within her. For him. For his suffering.

He watched her as she sat down, without a word, without calling attention to her presence, and merely looked out across the lake, watching the light dance across its smooth surface. She glanced at him occasionally, but he looked away, ashamed at being found so vulnerable – ashamed of brooding like a lost child.

He inwardly wished for her to leave, leave him in peace; but, her determination was too powerful. She sat and waited; her with her selflessness and he with his valor, and created a mutual understanding between them, amazingly untainted by his withering spirit.

He turned to her then. Desperately, as if nothing else could save him. Something tore at her heart.

It was ironic, she thought blandly, that he, the famous savior of the world, needed to be saved from himself …

But the look in his eyes … she was unable to forget his hollow fear … his lonely, haunting sadness … the flicker of something unknown …

Then, with a sickening churn of her stomach, she understood.

He was afraid. He felt alone, misunderstood. An orphan, grown before his rightful time.

It was as if a void had drawn every last breath from her quavering lungs; choking her, squeezing her last molecules of air. She was hurtled forward as if shot by a cannon, spinning out of control, whirring and spiraling with impossible speed, and then … everything stopped. Her world stopped.

Her lips were forming the words even as they sped to her mind – untested, but in an odd way fitting and desirable; it was as if she were made to say it. But the words, which came so swiftly to mind, could not seem to amble across her tongue. The phrase was simply not enough for him to understand.

It began innocently enough, as she had meant it to be. She brought her hand to his cheek and brushed her lips against his, unable, for once in her life, to say words that could possibly describe her undying loyalty and love for him - this young man, for whom she would risk everything, even if her presence was taken endlessly for granted. It did not matter to her.

For he, who had received nothing but words all his life, was in dire need of something more. She saw it in his eyes. It was with this motivation that she pushed aside all awkwardness and let herself go. It was with this motivation that her feelings, disguised cleverly as platonic, were hidden without remorse.

But something unexpected happened that night, unseen by both. Her kiss had one flaw. For the first few moments it was as it was meant - thoroughly platonic, comforting and understanding. But as they sat there, relishing and savoring the peacefulness of it, they lingered too long, and began to realize, in turn, that there would be no turning back. Their need was too great. Their need to be understood, respected, loved. Everything was there, swimming through their whirling minds. They felt it. A fluttering of the heart; a longing to protect with all their beings … They knew. It was inevitable.

And amongst their overwhelming revelation, a voice was heard, breathing quietly in his ear.

“You’re not alone.”

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A/N: Thanks for reading, everyone. I appreciate everything.

-Lauren