DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter, or make money from this. It is a fanfiction, after all.

Hello! Firstly, I'm sorry for discontinuing Redheaded Prince - to be honest, it really wasn't getting anywhere, and it got me stuck. I kept to my word when I said that I was too busy editing, and that's what I did.

Well, only that I completely rewrote the whole thing with different OCs and style of writing, in a whole different year in a whole different viewpoint(s). So it wasn't really 'Redheaded Prince' anymore, instead becoming more of it's own - and here it is. My 'Unattainable'.

Warning: future chapters will have mentions of more darker and sinister subjects, such as drugs, alcohol, sex, etc. I did rate it as a T because it's only sort of mild, but ... okay, we'll see.

One more thing: like RP, I enjoy twisting things around and making different interpretations of things, so of course I had fun making the masculine feminine and the feminine masculine, and I thought it would also be an interesting thing to write.

Enjoy.

Prologue - Perhaps

- love looks not with the eyes but with the mind; and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind -

When Jane was a little girl, she never saw many eyes. There were often greys and blues and the odd brown next door, but otherwise she was secluded. In a way, she found it frustrating, how she could've seen so many colours and so many emotions and remember so much more eyes than she did in the dawning end that was now.

Perhaps, she mused, as her rugged breath slipped through her cut, bloody lips, that it was what made it precious. Perhaps it had to be that way, to be so far away only to run back twice as fast. Oh, her childhood seemed so distant, and brighter, filled with flowers and wine and stories, so astray from the pointed wands and the cold, and the pain and the choices. It was almost tragic how fast time slipped through her fingertips - but it was probably more so to think how much she wanted to have it back.

Perhaps that was why she loved eyes. Eyes never change - they're immortal, a constant on a person, a reliant on a friend. It was odd how people looked at others in the eye; wasn't it like delving into someone's emotions? Into someone's soul?

Perhaps that was why Jane loved them so much. Because of the emotions. The colours. The immortality. They were a type of immortality that never burdened an individual, Jane thought as she felt her heart slowing, the thumps weakening and weakening - they were a type of undying that didn't kill.

Unless looks could kill.

Looks did kill her several times.

His looks definitely did.

And okay, she didn't know why his eyes were so enticing. She didn't know what emotions his eyes held when he killed her with them and what they meant, and why she felt what she felt when they came, but she had believed that she would never see eyes like his on anyone else for the rest of her life, and that was what was special, and that was what was different.

"I think you have really pretty eyes," she murmured, closing her own emotions and colours from the world. It was a timeless last moment for only her to see, even if it was the last few. "I really, really do."