Almond Eyes

Chapter two

Why don't you send me an angel? he thought sardonically. If anyone here needs one, it's me.

At that moment, the balcony door opened behind him a second time. He looked up in time to see a girl, maybe a year younger than him, quickly stepping outside, looking back over her shoulder into the hall. Her porcelain features were silhouetted in the hall's golden firelight, touching high cheekbones and wide eyes in a face so completely perfect it put the Botticelli angel to shame. Then she closed the door behind her, plunging them both back into semi-darkness. Sirius stared at her, wondering at the thin line between coincidence and wish fulfillment. Long eyelashes drifted shut, hiding her dark eyes. He didn't think she even saw him. Despite the beauty, she looked just as tired as he felt, leaning against the door there.

Long lashed almond eyes opened. Winged eyebrows quirked when she noticed him, but she gave no other sign of surprise. She just stood there looking at him, and he stared back, struck dumb. Then the heavens opened up, cool rain choosing that moment to fall. The girl's face was lit by a small, private smile as she crossed the balcony toward him, her wand materializing in her hand to wave a charm around them both. A faint aroma, like chamomile, laced the sea breeze. He inhaled deeply. It was warm, but sweet. Leaning an elbow against the rail, she looked up at him from the corner of her eye. The smile widened, but her eyes were careful. Who was she?

"Hoping to see the stars?" she asked, her voice conversational.

He found himself grinning back, replying flippantly, "I'd rather get rained on looking for my star out here than go back in there." Inwardly, he cringed. He didn't want to get into his problems at the moment, and he'd just opened the conversation. Sure enough…

Her brow furrowed. "Why?"

He considered lying for a moment, telling her that he'd won massive amounts of galleons from one of the men in there and was avoiding him like the plague until he could get the gold transferred to Gringotts. But those almond eyes were fixated on him steadily, and he went with the truth. "I'm not much for these parties." It seemed inadequate, but angel or not, he wasn't going to go into the deeper issues he was having right now, not with her, not now. So he added lightly, "Not a single one of them can dance and they all steadily get drunker as the night goes on." He smiled wryly, as if unsurprised.

Her lips twitched, and he figured she must've noticed the same thing. Her next question caught him completely off guard, however.

"Do you like to dance?" The soft voice was suddenly eager, as if hoping for a yes. It sounded like an invitation, though asked conversationally.

"Was that an offer?"

Those almond eyes slid away from his, her lips twisting in annoyance. She looked back at him, waiting for an answer. He considered his options: for one, dancing might make the evening go a bit better, and she was definitely better company than his morose thoughts were. On the other hand, that would mean going back inside, where his mother lay in wait, along with Regulus and how many other people he wanted to avoid. He didn't know if they'd leave him alone, just because he had an escort. In fact, he doubted they'd think twice about it.

She sighed, sounding irritated with his lack of response. He opened his mouth to say… what? He wasn't sure yet, but she was already walking away. He watched her reach the doorway. She looked over one shoulder at him, her long brown hair cascading down her back. "Tell me if you change your mind," she said before going back inside. The golden light blinded him for a moment before she shut the door, and it was dark again. He realized suddenly that he'd offended her with his silence. Damn it.

Cold droplets of rain began to hit him, stinging his skin where they landed. Wearing nothing but a collar-and-cuffs white button-up shirt and black jeans, he would be soaked within minutes, but didn't bother pulling out his wand to repeat the water repelling charm. Because a deeper coldness settled into him too, and he froze, realizing that for a minute there, he hadn't felt it. He hadn't felt that dragging tiredness that seemed to sap his energy every minute of the day, that he took for granted as an unshakeable condition. It had disappeared completely.

He looked back at the door she'd disappeared through. There was no hesitation now.

The band was already playing when he reentered the room. Scanning it quickly, he found her, sitting a little apart from a group of sixth and seventh year Slytherins he recognized with intense dislike. Her arms were resting in her lap, legs crossed and one foot twitching, making her fiery-red floor length skirt undulate in little waves. Her eyes met his from across the floor, and he was caught up again by the beauty of her face. Her eyes were a light golden brown, bringing to mind firelight. Almond brown. Focusing his gaze only on her, concentrating on ignoring anyone else in the room, he crossed quickly towards her. Apologize. Ask her to dance. Hope the evening ends soon. That was his plan.

He stumbled through the apology part, but he hadn't expected a smooth delivery. And he found out that he was right, she'd been offended. He was just about to ask her to dance though, when disaster struck.

Disaster had a smooth voice like honey. Disaster was 5' 8, twenty pounds lighter than him, and wore too much cologne and hair gel. Disaster also apparently knew her father and thought he was a real ladies' man. Sirius would've hated him on principle were he not already so tightly wound and on edge.

Sirius froze, hearing the blonde pillock ask this girl to dance. Literally, he felt ice creeping through his veins. His eyes were fixed to her face, trying to take his cue from her expression. She looked terribly uncomfortable, looking over Sirius's shoulder at the guy. Her gaze returned to his, beseeching. This was one request he could pick up easily enough.

"Actually, mate," he broke in, his voice bogusly cheerful, "We were about to take a turn around the dance floor ourselves, if you don't mind." He looked over his shoulder at the blonde, his eyes hard. Back off, his glance said. She's mine.

To his relief, the girl whose name he still didn't know rose from her seat to break up the standoff between the two men. Her luminous brown eyes were locked on the blonde's face while she wound her arm around Sirius's, her hand wrapping around his bicep. He could feel the warmth through his damp shirt. The blonde sensed his defeat and backpedaled smoothly before turning and strutting away, tossing off a one-liner. Sirius resisted the urge to snort.

Turning his gaze from the pillock, he caught his mother staring at him. Her expression was mix of emotions. Surprise, anger, dislike, and above all, confusion. Then he realized she wasn't staring at him. She was staring at his date, the beautiful brunette with her arm through his. Why? He looked down at the girl, who peeked up at him. She quirked her eyebrows, tugging on his arm towards the dance floor with a small smile playing on her lips. He winked at her, knowing the gesture would be noticed by his mother. As he led her out onto the dance floor, he saw his mother striding away, her shoulders stiff.

Sirius led her to the center of the dance floor. It was an unspoken rule; couples in the middle of the floor never got cut in on. On the fringes, people traded partners like the stock market, trading up and up, trying to get the best deal. But in the center…

He turned to face her. His gaze was immediately drawn to her eyes again. He couldn't help it. Warm almond brown, they seemed to glow with an inner fire. He could feel it's warmth. Her hand slid from his bicep, down his forearm, and to his hand. She twined her fingers in his, raising their hands to shoulder-height. Sirius pulled her close with his other hand on the small of her back, and her other hand moved to his shoulder. He probably should've just put his hand on her hip, probably shouldn't hold her so close, but a reckless feeling spread through him in the absence of the exhaustion. He wanted that blonde pillock to see him, wanted his mother, his brother, and everyone else to see that she was dancing with him.

Then, when they took their first step, everything was driven out of his mind except the mystery of the girl in his arms. She danced like molten Mercury, fluid and smooth and hot to the touch. Her hand burned in his hand. Her eyes caught the light and burned into his soul, erasing the fatigue that always lingered there. He didn't feel as if he was leading her around the ballroom. They were simply moving, so wrapped up in the heat that he couldn't say for sure where he began and she left off. The fire left no room for the pain, tiredness, or the cold. She made it all disappear for him, and it disturbed him that she could have this effect on him, when he didn't even know her name.

"My name's Sirius, by the way. I don't think we were introduced," he told her quietly.

Then his world, which had shrunk to the point of her and him, came crashing down with one word. "Andromeda," she told him. He noticed she didn't say her last name. She didn't need to: it was Black. She was the daughter of his mother's brother, who'd inherited the family fortune. Was this why she'd come out to the balcony? Because she'd seen Alphard leave and return and had been curious why. He felt a small sting, like betrayal. His family hated him. Why would she dance with him? She had to know who he was, even if he hadn't recognized her. He was probably the hot-topic on the rumor mill. The washout who'd finally been thrown out onto the street.

Testing her, he commented lightly, "Our parents won't be too happy." He watched her face carefully. What would she say? Her eyes darkened for an instant, dropped from his. It was almost fear, worry maybe, at the thought of their parents' displeasure.

Then she laughed, a sparkling sound like champagne, it stunned him. Merriment was in her eyes as she replied saucily. "Many a pureblood has courted his cousin. It's when you take it off the dance floor that the scandals begin." Relief eased through him, and he could join in her laughter at the truth of the statement. After all, his own mother had married her third cousin for the sake that he was pureblooded.

They continued to waltz, and Sirius somehow forgot there were people in this room watching him. He didn't see them whispering. He never felt the aching fatigue This new warmth spreading through him was like a balm, it seemed to come from somewhere within Andromeda, flowing from her touch, her almond brown eyes, her closeness. Spinning around the dance floor, he forgot everything but her, and didn't even notice the number of people staring at the two of them as the night progressed. As far as he knew, it was only her and him here.

With a feeling of surrender, Sirius decided to put aside her motivations for tonight. He would dwell on this tomorrow, he could at least give himself tonight.

Then, after the band stopped playing, he had a revelation, realizing the answer to his question before. He asked her to dance one more time, an easy, internal rhythm that neither of them needed music for on the dance floor. The reason for the perpetual tiredness, it was only that he'd been alone. He always was these days, brooding on issues he couldn't help or affect. Right now though, he was too busy being caught up in the moment to worry about the future, or regret the past. Right now, she was saving him from himself. Caught up in the moment with a pair of almond eyes. Hallelujah.

(A/N)

Want to see Andromeda's take on their dance in Durmstrang? Read my other fic, "A Little Bit Reckless". Same story- different point of view. Maybe some quotes would peak your interest, hmm?

Andromeda looked around the closed-in courtyard. It never ceased to amaze her exactly how paranoid a man like Karkaroff could be. The man hadn't built Durmstrang for students, he'd built it for keeping armies at bay.

"I wonder that you two would look wonderful together." Druella savored the idea a moment, as if looking wonderful together was the epitome of a perfect marriage.

"We've danced every dance- lasted longer than the band," he observed. At her reluctant smile, he ducked his head to murmur in her ear, "But who needs the band anyway?"

THERE WILL BE MORE

And by the way…

My sister, the "tea expert" has brought something to my attention. Chamomile, the scent of Andromeda's hair, was meant to be the aromatic, cultivated plant, the kind used in incense and potpourri. She mentioned that wild chamomile, commonly known as "Dog Fennel" has a vastly different scent. A quite disgusting one, apparently. We're going for good vibes here, people! Think incense! 3 Kt