Frank Longbottom was in a dire situation. He really needed the loo but he didn't know where he could find one. Having only been at Hogwarts for four days and fourteen hours, he had not yet become acquainted with the castle's plumbing. The seventh door he tried held promise. There were taps, definitely taps, sinks, and cubicles. Yes, this was what he had been looking for. Quickly, he slammed a cubicle door behind him and unbuttoned his trousers with clumsy thumbs.
A moment later, he was leaving the dark cubicle behind him and exposing himself to the brightness of the bathroom. This brightness, however, was not solely due to the sun shining through the window. A fair amount was glowing from two very big, very blue eyes boring into him.
"Excuse me?" the owner of the eyes said, "Did you know that this is a girl's bathroom?"
Frank blinked very quickly and took in the features surrounding these eyes. There was a tiny nose, sprinkled with a light dusting of freckles, very round, rosy cheeks, and to frame it all, a mass of mousey curls. He suddenly realised that he was staring at a very pretty girl and became painfully aware that there might be urine on his shoes.
The girl's eyebrows furrowed over her blue eyes. "Are you alright?" she asked.
Realisation hit him once more. He had been staring at her in silence for a while now, not to mention his shirt was sticking to his back with nervous sweat. Lifting a hand, numb with nerves, he reached to scratch his nose. He hadn't washed his hands yet, though. Cursing in his mind, he lowered his hands again. He felt a complete idiot. She seemed to think the same, judging by the perplexed look on her face.
"Erm, sorry," he mumbled. "Can I just?" he gestured to the taps behind her and made his way past her with very little coordination. He might have brushed her on his way, he wasn't sure.
He let a welcome gush of cold water pour over his fumbling hands, before drying them and turning to face the girl once more. She had turned to watch him wash, but her face remained the same. Perplexed as ever.
"Are you sure you're alright?" she repeated. "You're face is very red."
He nodded very quickly. "That's probably because I'm quite embarrassed."
Frank had expected the girl to respond with something witty or cruel, as girls often responded to his embarrassment. But she didn't quip, retort, or joke. What she did do, was let out a breathy laugh and hold her smile in contemplation.
"You're quite funny," she mused.
He made a face. "Erm... thank you?"
The smile that played across her face was not fading and he couldn't understand why.
"Are you a first year?" she asked. When he nodded, she thought she should continue speaking, "I was new last year, you'll get used to it. I'm Alice by the way."
"Frank," he replied, holding out his hand for her to shake.
She found this amusing apparently, because she laughed nervously as she grasped his hand and shook it in a friendly manner. Very glad that he had washed his hands, he looked up into her blue eyes once more. It was then that he realised, it wasn't brightness that shone from Alice's eyes. It was kindness.
Thirty years later and the eyes still plagued him. Familiar eyes.
He slept in a very clean room, filled with very sick strangers, and witches and wizards in uniforms who claimed they were trying to help him. His sheets were white and his heart was lonely. Not that it mattered, his mind and his heart were so little connected that he often forgot his emotions. What was worse was the connection between his mind and the world around him. It was blurry and complicated. Everything was nonsense and his brain was not up to the task of deciphering it. So he lived in a private bubble of darkness, where nothing could penetrate.
Nothing but those eyes. Those familiar eyes that shone with kindness. Eyes that meant nothing and yet everything. Every day he saw those kind eyes, and somewhere inside he smiled.