JKR owns everything, I own nothing but my imagination. This drabble is dedicated to The Treacle Tart.
...
Black Eyes
His black eyes were dry and numb as they roamed over the still lump that had once been a person.
Eyes as black as ebony showed a loss as deep and painful as clefts in wood.
Eyes as black as obsidian reflected hard-earned survival as did the scars across his body.
Eyes as black as coal glittered with hatred of a maniac striving to subdue the world by force. And rage he had no outlet for.
Black eyes closed before he turned to join the ranks of the Dark Lord's faithful, leaving the body for others to take care of.