Heliophilia; d.m

I

We met unexpectedly. Our acquaintance was not unusual. We didn't fall in love at first sight. Our relationship wasn't perfect. But it just was. We were. And that was enough until everything slowly started to fall apart.

We had to go through many obstacles to find at least a grain of peace of mind. But it wasn't that easy. We had each other, we started this journey together and we had to finish it together too.

And if I knew where fate would lead us, I wouldn't change anything anyway. From the second our eyes met, to the last breath.

After all, the sun must shine on us, too, after an eternity of darkness.

—

DRACO

"Good evening everybody and welcome back to Hogwarts." Dumbledore's hoarse voice, drowning out the hum of voices and the clatter of cutlery, broke into my thoughts, drawing my attention. He began his welcome speech, as he did every year, for the fourth time in my life.

"Welcome back." 

"I hope your summer was great." 

"Good luck in the new year." 

And all that. It was always boring and uninformative. And I didn't even want to listen.

"... and let me introduce you to the new professor of defense against the dark arts." 

I looked at the professor's direction. He seemed quite strange to me, with a slightly mad look that sent fear, in the form of goosebumps and a slight chill that passed along the spine.

But I thought he was faking it to keep the students at bay and disciplined.

I heard a few quiet chuckles rippled through the hall as the headmaster's voice drowned it all again.

"What's wrong with him? Why does he look like this?" Crabbe could barely contain his laughter as he whispered loudly, his eyes darting between the new professor and us.

I shook my head, smiling faintly, as I didn't find much to laugh about, and prepared to drift off into my thoughts again, so that the evening would be over sooner, but from the other end of the table I heard the clatter of breaking dishes, and all attention was now directed there. I turned my head, but before I could see who had smashed it and what had been smashed, my eyes caught on the girl.

She seemed to be the only one who didn't even move as everyone stared at the broken dishes and whispered to each other; she sat with her eyes downcast, her black hair veiled over half of her face, and I was pretty sure I'd never seen her before.

"Attention here, please." It was Dumbledore again, his voice now sounding like underwater to me, because I felt like I was drowning, when this girl must have felt the eyes on her and looked up at me — her eyes were the color of ice, her gaze was sharp and cold, and I froze, because it was like magic coming from two pieces of ice that were about to turn me to stone.

There was something strangely mesmerizing about her, drawing the eye, the energy that she radiated seemed suffocating, but then it all stopped, because the girl lowered her almost transparent eyes again, picking at the surface of the table with her fingernail.

"Do you know her?" I asked my friends, finally taking my eyes off her, and I thought my voice was low enough for only Crabbe and Goyle to hear, but it turned out that wasn't — she looked at me again, this time looking annoyed, her dark brows drawn together and her lips pursed.