Grey Eyes (A Harry Potter Fanfiction)

1. Grey Eyes

I let out a loud groan as I finally drag my trunk over the final step of the stairs. After pulling it further onto the center of the platform, I prop my trunk up on its side and lean over it to catch my breath.

"I finally made it..."

"YOUNG MAN, STEP AWAY FROM THE MOVING TRAIN."

Or not...?

My ears barely register the loud whistle blowing from somewhere to my right and before I know it, the bellowing stationmaster shoves briskly past me on his way down the platform and completely knocks me over.

"Wagh!"

My arms flail in my complete loss of balance and I shut my eyes tight... but instead of a brilliant crash to the ground, I feel a pair of hands grab my shoulders and my back collides into someone behind me. There's a soft grunt as the boy stumbles back a few steps from the impact.

"Whoa--whoa, you okay there?"

I let out a yelp of surprise and his grip on my shoulders tightens as he steadies me. "O-oh, no," I stammer out. "Thanks, I'm fine..."

My words trail off as I tilt my head up to look at the boy. I don't know what I expected. Some average joe? Some random, exceedingly average middle-aged Muggle man? Average McAverage? Probably. What I didn't expect was to find myself inexplicably in the arms of a boy with artfully tousled hair and a mesmerizing pair of grey eyes.

Two thoughts strike me at this point: 1) What the hell, people actually have grey eyes? and 2) Don't supermodels have better modes of transportation than the train?

They were justified thoughts. Trust me.

"Fine, huh?" The boy grins at me. "From the dazed look on your face, I'd beg to differ."

Dazed look...? Wait--CRAP, how long was I staring at him?

"S-sorry!" I blurt out, pushing away from him in embarrassment. "I was just-I mean, you startled me. I wasn't trying to stare-I mean...!" I take a deep breath. "Thank you," I finally get out in a steady voice. "That's what I'm trying to say. For catching me, thank you."

I wince as I realize I must sound like such a bonafide dork right now. Note to self: thinking before talking is possibly, probably a very good idea.

But instead of giving me a strange look, the boy just grins even wider at my stuttering, for some reason looking like he just ran into an old friend. "I'll consider myself thanked," he says, jokingly reaching down to shake my hand. "You're very welcome, Cecilia Vance."

The sound of my name on his lips gives me a sudden jolt. "Do... I know you?"

"Why, do you think we have?"

"No, I... wait--what?"

The boy holds my gaze for a moment before letting out a snort of laughter. "Nah, I'm totally playing with you," he teases. "Your name's written on your trunk." He gestures towards the letters imprinted very clearly on my suitcase.

My face reddens yet again in embarrassment. Smooth move, Cecilia.

"Right," I mutter to myself as I bend down to pick my fallen trunk back up. "Anyway, thanks again for helping me and everything. You probably have your own train to catch, right?"

He raises an eyebrow as he watches me heft my luggage in my arms. "Actually you'd be surprised. You sure you don't need any help?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," I say firmly. I give the boy a wave and a smile before nodding towards the platform. "Anyway, thanks aga-aaaaahhhaawwaow!"