A/N: This is my first fic on here, so please take that into consideration. I came up with this idea from watching an advert on tv. I am not sure if someone has done this before, but it's sure to have my take on things. Fluff ensured. I am sorry this isn't a long story, but I thought the ending was just perfect enough, so I left it at that. The next chapter will be longer I promise. I'm focusing on each of the five senses – Sight, Touch, Taste, Smell, Sound (Not necessarily in that order).
Disclaimer: I had a dream last night that I owned the characters in this. That's all it was, a dream.
Senses
By GreatMindsThinkAlike
Chapter One. – Sight.
A quick glace to the left of her took in several things:
A large, vivid green oak tree, it's branches clad in a soft coat of leaves gently swaying in the light breeze. It's shade had invited many students to simply lie beneath it and retreat from the heat of the midday summer sun. It was June, and the classes had been cancelled for the day due to a prediction from Madame Trelawney – Dumbledore was currently dealing with it as it had foreseen the death of a student's parents.
The light bouncing off a clear blue pool of water, sparkling into a million diamonds at the surface. Many were bathing in the shadows, as the school rules prevented them from bathing in the deeper depths, due to the large number of slightly unsavoury characters that inhabited it.
There was also a small, cute looking first year, which was surrounded by a gathering of students from a variety of other years. He was showing off his skills of using a yo-yo, a muggle contraption in which many had never seen before (although the Weasleys did a enchanted version, it was a lot different).
None of these were of any use to her. What she was searching for would need a much longer glance. She looked to the right this time and immediately saw a pile of tousled blonde hair. The sides of her face were brought up into a smile at the sight, and she lingered on the back of his head for as long as possible before turning back.
However, before long, that same boy interrupted her gaze by sitting down next to her. She continued staring straight ahead, not daring to look to her side. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the boy sitting next to her lay back and bathe his pale, creamy skin, in the warm butter yellow light of the sun. He lay like that for a few minutes, in which she took the opportunity to study him closely.
His shirt was open a few buttons below the collar, which gave her a glimpse of the smooth skin of his muscled chest. His tie hung loosely from his neck, the dark green a silver contrasting with the white of his shirt. She moved her gaze over the skin of his strong jaw line and his pale lips, the curve of his nose and finally the darker skin of his eyelids.
His eyelids fluttered suddenly and her gaze once again became the green, well kept lawns and, at her feet, the burnt amber of a cat, purring under the heat.
Mustering up the courage, she looked back and saw the molten grey of his eyes, and the tiny fleck of blue that swirled within them. In the irises, she saw the flames of his tortured soul and her own, chocolate brown pair of eyes.
The eyes moved closer and closer until they were broken off by the blackness of her own eyelids closing.