He closed his eyes, letting the warm summer air ruffel his hair and the bright sunlight shimmer lightly on the skin showing under his half buttoned shirt, listening to the raw yet soft melody of the ocean. He remembered the many times in the not-so-distant past that felt like centuries ago when he had been at the same place, letting the sun caress him and the sea sing to his ear in the same way he did now.
He recalled his parents-for whom this place was the the symbol of their youthful love's birth- staring at each other under the sweet could almost see the feeling cursing between the both of them: a pure, sensible joy to simply be with your beloved.
A soft cry woke him from his revery. He looked around, seeking out the source of the sob. Finally, his well trained eyes saw the reflect of a blond hair behind a little sand mountain. Listening more carefully, he confirmed this was the provenance of the weep, for he could hear the continuous, failing to be silent, cry coming from the silhouette. He waited a long time, frustrated at this disturbance from his peaceful thoughts, wondering wether he should go away or mention to the person that one should not permit itself such a lack of emotional control for it disturbed others and put them in an incomfortable situation.
Finally, he chose the second option and made his way toward the 'intruder'. As he neared the person, he suddenly came to a dead stop. The being in front of him- though he was sure he had no idea as to who the person was or that he had ever met her - brought to his hearth the intense feeling of déja-vu. He knew her. Yet he didn't.
As he stood there, as if starstruck, the small figure slowly lifted her face to him, finally noticing his presence. Her long, wavy silvery streaked gold blond hair falling in soft waves behind her back, her white sundress flowing vaporously around her small, fragile- looking frame. A petiteness that was accentuated by the tears falling down her beautiful green eyes on her pink, high cheekbones, to her soft, creamy, ivory skin, ending their course on her full, dark pink lips.
At first, the only thing he could think was how beautiful she was. She truly looked like an angel. And then, she asked in a surge of bravado under which you could easily guess her fright : "Came to finish your friends work, muggle?"
That's when he saw it. The samll, fine line on her left wrist, the one she was clutching dearingly to her hearth. And from wich fell, drop by drop, blood that stained the snow- colored outfit she wore. She was injured. That's why she was crying. From pain. Pain, he knew. And it caused him a cold-blooded anger to see such a delicate, innocent being hurt. He felt hate, fierce hate, toward the ones who had done this to her. A killing hate.
That is only when he processed her words.
Muggle?
His expression must have looked surprised for she snapped at him. " What? Don't know what that means?"
Even if she was hurt and afraid- and she definitly was scared; you could see that no matter how hard she tried to hide it- she was trying to fight back and wasn't giving in.
How surprised he was of her courage? Well, he wasn't. Strangely enough, he was simply proud. Proud of this infant who he hadn't even properly met and who was bothering him moments ago.
No matter the weirdness of the situation, he regained composure and simply answered: "I know what it means. I simply am surprised you do."
It was her turn to look astonished.
He walked over to her, knelt, and slowly, gently took her hand. And she let him do so. Then he turned it to see the gash on her wrist. Right on the vein, he thought. Again, an unusual feeling of protectiveness crept in him. He, however, didn't show it. He cooly and calmly brought his hand to his pocket, brought out a long, thin, black stick and pointed an extremity to her wound. Then he murmured "epiksey" in a soft voice. The wound disapearing, he looked at the young girl in the eyes. She suddenly seemed...what was that look? Impressed? No, more like..proud. of him?
"Who are you?" she asked.
"Draco Malfoy. You?"
"I am Astoria Greengrass."
