My Destiny in Those Eyes

That morning he'd woken to the harsh sound of flesh against flesh and an unearthly scream. He'd almost fallen from his bed upon hearing the scream. "Not again," he thought, as a low, tired groan escaped his mouth. He'd run down the hall to find his parents screaming at each other. Draco slammed his fist into the wall and marveled at how the pain in his hand that traveled up his arm momentarily took away the pain that he felt when his parents fought. He slumped against the wall and slowly slid down. He'd had enough. He couldn't take it anymore, but the cacophony of the row persisted. Draco hated it when they fought, but who was he to stop them and in the mean time get caught in the middle? There was no love in their world or at least it didn't seem like it most of the time anyway.

He had to get away, so he departed in a rush only grabbing a bag of money and a hat. As he left through the back door of the hacienda he broke into a run.

After what seemed like hours, he slowed to a jog for loss of breath. He was in a market place he'd never seen before. Although he and his family came to their house in Southern Spain quit often, he usually didn't leave the house; So he was totally unaware of the goings on of the nearby town. The Muggles were going about their business selling and buying goods. Draco wandered around the little market trying to disguise the disgust he felt at even the idea of being close to Muggles.

About a half an hour later when he'd successfully made his way to the other side of the market and was about to look for what Muggles called a "strip club" an old building caught his eye. It was shabby, but something about it drew him to the door. He glanced up at the sign that hung eerily above the entrance and saw that the building was the residence of a so called authentic fortuneteller. Draco shook his head and muttered, "Probably just an old bat like Trelawney... but Muggle style."

His lips curled into one of his famous sneers, but none the less he entered the haunted looking building.

Upon his ingression to the fortune teller's abode, he was assaulted with the heavy fragrance of incense mixed with the aroma of different herbs and oils. It was humid and dark in the room that was immediately inside of the door. The walls were draped in black cloth, and the floor was covered in rugs of different kind that were all well worn. In the center of the chamber there was a small table with a crystal ball, tarot cards, star charts and tea leaves strewn atop it and two chairs on either side of it.

Seeing no one in the room, Draco turned to leave. Then a voice said, "Señor, are you leaving before you hear your fortune?" The voice was as quiet as a whisper, but it was seemed as loud as a shout in Draco's ears.

"No I... I'm staying," Draco stammered as coolly as he could muster, while turning slowly around.

Embarrassed, he looked down at his feet, something that he rarely did. When he raised his eyes he received yet another shock. There wasn't an old hag standing by the table, but a dark skinned Spanish girl dressed in the most lavish gypsy garb. She looked to be no older then him, no older then sixteen. Their eyes locked and Draco noticed that one of her eyes was of the darkest brown that was hardly distinguishable from black and the other was of a murky green. They were almond-shaped and rimmed by short lashes. He also noticed that she had a long scar on the left side of her face that went from her cheek to her forehead. It was a quite unsightly scar at that. A slight frown crossed his face as he looked at her.

Draco didn't remember crossing the room to take a seat, and he wasn't aware of placing his hands in hers or of letting secrets tumble from his pale thin lips. Suddenly becoming quite conscious of himself and all to mindful of the risks he's just taken in revealing his family life and some of his dark secrets, a great fear aose from the very depths of the stuff from which he was made. He jerked and looked to the eyes to judge if they noticed or even care about what he'd just articulated. Instead of the fear, malice or shock he'd expected to discern, he saw something that caused the menacing feeling to rise like bile in his stomach and he too rose. He ran from the shop stopping only long enough to throw several euros at the girl.

His heart began to race as he remembered those eyes and the compassion in them. Shaking his head and wondering if he would be punished for blabbing about the wizarding world and his fathers... occupation he decided to deal with the consequences later and went to the bathroom to splash his face.

~~~~~~~~~

A soft tapping came at the window and Draco saw that his owl was trying to achieve his attention. He opened the window to let the owl inside and took the parchment from the bird's extended leg. He read:

Draco Dear,

I know you must be upset about your father and I having that row and I understand if you don't wish to return to the hacienda right away. I only ask that you send an owl telling me how you are and if you need money.

With Love,

Mother

Draco didn't have any parchment, so he used Muggle parchment and a quill instead. He scribble a quick note to his mother telling her he was fine, but to send muggle money. After he finished he attached the note to the owl and off it flew. Draco moved over to his bed and collapsed upon it with exhaustion.