Malfoy touches her knee, and she looks up from the page she's been staring blankly at for the past ten minutes. His eyes are soft, and warm, like steam and summer rain clouds and moonlight, and her breath catches. This is the way he looks at her, and it makes her feel like bubbles in champagne, like chills down a spine, like she is a person who is hurting and not the wounded animal that she feels like at times.