Stop And Stare

I couldn't Breathe.

Couldn't move, couldn't think.

All I could do was stare into his eyes.

The eyes I've seen millions of times. I've seen them in my dreams too many times to count. Every time I close my eyes, it's as if his are starring back at me.

We were falling. Free falling. We twisted oddly, fell smoothly, never breaking the eye contact that I've known so well.

There was no particular end in sight. Just a never ending fall.

Yet oddly, it was alright with me. I was calm. As if it didn't matter. As if the certain death awaiting me when we finally landed with a huge splat all over the hard, cold ground that awaited us, didn't really matter. Because he was there. Him and his eyes.

And even though I was already falling, I had a feeling he would catch me.

"This war is just getting started, Hayden." My father stated one morning, taking the coffee cup from his lips and looking over my shoulder at the news paper on the table in front of me. It read, in bold black letters:

Ten Muggle-borns killed in the last three weeks.

"It's horrible." I mumbled, my brow crinkling at the paper as my father's head snapped in my direction.

"Filthy things, those muggle-borns. I'm glad someone's doing something about them." He sent me a threatening look as he took another sip of his coffee and snatched the paper from in front of me, holding it in front of him and reading it slowly.

"They're just as bad as the muggles are." My mother chimed in, sipping slightly from her tea cup and pushing a lock of white-blond hair behind her ear. She glanced at me shortly when I didn't respond, giving a quick, "Sit up straight, dear, or you'll have a hump when you're older" before sniffing and looking back down into her tea cup.

I sat up taller and pushed my hands under my thighs, thinking about how I should really get changed out of this nightgown, and into something more suitable for my first day of sixth year. Apparently, my mother had the same idea.

"Hayden. What ARE you wearing? Be quick and go get dressed. And tell Lucius we're waiting for him."

I jumped at the opportunity, sliding from the chair and hurrying up the steps. If there was one person I hated, it was Lucius. Not just because he was my older brother, but because it seemed that every damn time I tried to do something that mother would approve of, he found a way to mess it up.

"If we don't end this war," I heard him saying heatedly to Regulus Black through the crack in his door, "This war will end us."

Regulus- who never really did talk much- answered shortly with, "All of us." And then his eyes swung over to the door where he could just about see me peeking in. I cringed, knowing what was coming next. He would tell Lucius, and I'd get hexed into oblivion, but it never came, only a sigh from Lucius. I watched him run a hand over his face and stare at Regulus half heartedly.

"All of us?" Lucius repeated, grimacing and taking a seat on his bed, pulling shoes on. "Who've you got to loose? No one, that's who." Lucius snapped, lacing up his right foot.

Regulus' eyes met mine again, and I thought that this time for sure he was going to rat me out. But he surprised me again, turning back to my brother un-phased and answering shortly, "Someone."

I felt my heart beating faster and rushed away from the door. What was it about those eyes that seemed so incredibly familiar? Such a deep grey…

I hurried into my room and changed into a short black dress quickly before pulling my hair up loosely and frowning at myself in the mirror. "You really shouldn't be listening in on his conversations." Regulus Black stood leaning against my dark oak doorframe, looking as passive as ever. I was all too aware that his simple sentence was the most he's ever spoken to me. Not to mention that he could see my plain, dark bedroom, along with a pile of children's books I kept in the corner. I would have blushed…if I wasn't a Malfoy.

Rolling back my shoulders, I shifted through my drawers, and glanced at him shortly.

"You act as if I care what he talks about."

He walked around my bed, finally coming to stand beside me. His hand grabbing onto the dresser next to mine. I spared him a glance and went back to searching through my clothes until I found what I was looking for. A silver scarf. I wrapped it around my neck softly, turning to walk away, but he was standing directly in my way.

"You don't think much of me, do you?" He asked, a brow raised pointedly. I fought to not start drowning in those all too familiar eyes.

"Oh, Don't be silly, dear." I let a smirk slip onto my face, moving around him and towards the door. "I don't think of you at all."