Sometimes he looks at her and there is nothing in his eyes.
She's so used to seeing everything there – hate, disgust, revile, scorn. Sometimes she thinks she might have even caught a flash of grudging admiration, but it's gone as soon as it comes and she blinks a little harder to brush away the fleeting dream.
But sometimes there is nothing, and she doesn't know what to feel.
It's not so much that his eyes are blank or dead or anything like that, not like he's begging for her assistance to save his soul (or at least, she doesn't think so); it's more that perhaps he doesn't know what to feel as well.
When it happens, she averts her eyes and walks a little faster through the corridors. In ten seconds, she forgets all about it.
But every time it happens, she remembers all the other times it's happened, and she thinks perhaps she still doesn't know what to feel but she's feeling something.
It's not hate, disgust, revile, or scorn.
She doesn't understand it, and she doesn't want to.
So she walks a little faster.
Sometimes she looks at him and there's something different in her eyes.
He's so used to seeing derision and loathing scrawled clearly all over her face, etched deep into her nondescript brown eyes (he compares it to drowning in chocolate and honey for a millisecond and he's immediately horrified with himself) that he doesn't quite know what to do.
So he flashes her a trademark smirk, the one that screams I'm better than you in flashing colors and blaring lights and she bristles until she realizes she's been caught staring. She hurries away before his smirk can grow any wider.
When she's gone, he's a bit lost, and it takes him a moment to remember where he was going.
He sees her one day, in the Charms corridors, and she's laughing with Potty and the Weasel and her nondescript brown hair (drizzles of gold and swirls of auburn) is flying everywhere and her nondescript brown eyes (glittering specks of amber) are scrunched up as she laughs freely and she sees him by accident and she's smiling straight at him –
Until she remembers who he is.
Her face immediately contorts and she grabs her two best friends by the arms and pulls them through the crowd, walking with a purposefulness that has no other direction but away from him.
He's glad because he's ruined her good mood, because her smile is gone, and because he can hate her again.
He pauses for a second because he doesn't quite remember where he was going.