"You have your mother's eyes."
That's what she heard every time some old person saw Harry Potter. They were first reminded of his father, but when they looked closer, they noticed the presence of Lily Potter in his shimmering jade eyes.
She had to hear that so often. Ginny Weasley. But no one ever noticed her and her resemblance to Lily Potter.
Ginny had long, ruffled ginger hair like Lily's and green-blue eyes, even more similarly to Mrs. Potter's irises. Her freckles were faint; her skin pale and her nose small. And at age 15, she was about the same height as Lily, too.
If anyone ever noticed her, they would immediately think Ginny the daughter of Lily. But no one seemed to notice Ginny. Or rather, they didn't notice her unique features. To most, she was just another student in the crowd of Hogwarts. Whenever she spoke, people turned her way to listen, but afterwards, wouldn't remember who had spoken. When she scored a point on the Quidditch team, every Gryffindor cheered, but no one congratulated her after the match.
Not that she cared. No. She only wished for the attention of one dark-haired boy.
The son of Lily.
Every girl crushed on the Boy Who Lived. The Gryffindor Seeker. The bravest boy in the school. But Ginny didn't love him for his fame, glory or power. She didn't even believe he was that powerful. In fact, she didn't even believe that he himself thought he was powerful. She knew he was humble enough to admit that he was just like any other Hogwarts student. A wizard-in-training.
Still, he had the power to make Ginny fall deeply in love with him. She didn't stalk him, but whenever he answered a question, said something at the lunch table or was scolded by Professor Snape, Ginny was always watching him intently, her thoughts racing. She truly had the most complicated mind of any girl who loved Harry. In fact, she was the only girl who truly loved him.
Because of his virtue. His humility. His determination to stand up for what was right and just. He was a true Gryffindor. The question was:
Why was Ginny in Gryffindor?
She was sure the Sorting Hat had made a mistake despite its flawlessness. She saw no bravery in herself. She decided that Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff fit her personality better than a house for the courageous and bold. Yet there she was with all the other Weasleys, waiting for a spark of courage to awake in her heart.
Then one night, as Ginny lay dreaming deeply, she found herself standing in the girls' dorm, staring at herself in the full-sized mirror. But she appeared older and more mature-looking. Her fiery hair was a bit shorter and pulled out of her face. Ginny stood up straight and tall and her bright, aware eyes gazed back at her confidently. A grin seemed to be on her face, but she couldn't quite tell. She blinked and immediately found herself staring at the canopy over her crimson bed. Pearly white sunshine awakened the Gryffindor girls and Ginny Weasley felt more alive than she usually did on Monday mornings.
At breakfast, she noticed an empty spot by the son of James, and unlike always, she stood up straight and strided over to it. And before she knew it, she was shoulder to shoulder with Harry, who was bent over a parchment of paper.
"Hello, Harry," she said, smiling not confidently, but kindly and joy-filled.
He slowly raised his head and for the first time ever, Harry Potter gazed straight at Ginny. And it all became clear to her.
Harry did have his mother's eyes. Because his eyes reflected his soul. His virtue. His confidence. And that's what Lily had. That's what people saw in Harry's eyes.
And that's what Ginny had seen in her dream. Not herself, but whom she would soon become.