A/N: Don't worry, I'm not stopping WLCFH, I just got this idea in my head, and it wouldn't go away… so… This is some short little fluff. Hope you like. Read and Review.
Disclaimer: I highly doubt that J.K. Rowling would be writing on … So why do we still have to do this?
Her Life in Color
(LINE)
She was wearing black the first time I saw her. We all were. We all had our Hogwarts robes on for the first time; we all were excited to go to Hogwarts for the first time.
But she was different. I don't know if it was something about the way her red hair fell perfectly around her shoulders. Or, if it was her piercing green eyes that made my knees go weak. But, there was something about her. And I knew. I knew that she was going to be the girl I married. One way or the other. I was going to get that girl.
She was perfect. For anyone. For me.
(LINE)
She was wearing light blue the first time I asked her out. It was second year, and I was so nervous. My hands were sweaty, I was mumbling. I could see Sirius snickering behind her, but I didn't care.
Her small nose flared when I asked her. Her perfect pale cheeks became red with anger. I knew she was mad. But I didn't know why.
All I knew was that she was perfect. For anyone. For me.
(LINE)
She was wearing red, blood red when she slapped me for the first time. We were outside, it was right after our final exams in third year. She was so mad at me. I had hexed Snape then asked her out. Her perfect green eyes were like emeralds as she shook with anger. She was even more beautiful when she yelled at me. Although, I hated to see her mad, because I knew she was unhappy. But the only way she would be near me was to yell at me.
So I dealt with it. Because she was perfect. For anyone. For me.
(LINE)
She was wearing purple when I first saw her cry. Her soft lips forming sobs that seemed foreign in my eyes. Her shoulders slumped lower than I'd ever seen. It almost made me cry, myself, to see her so torn apart. I was almost tempted to go and comfort her, but I knew that she would push me away.
It was on that day in Fourth Year, that I promised myself that I would never let anyone make her cry again.
Because she didn't deserve that. Because she was perfect. For anyone. For me.
(LINE)
She was wearing orange the day I first really saw her. I mean really saw her. She was beautiful. She was perfect. It was at the Winter Formal in Fifth year. I didn't care that she came with another guy. That she was laughing, joking and kissing another guy. She deserved to be happy. She needed to be happy. She was inspiring to so many of the younger girls.
She was perfect. For anyone. For me.
(LINE)
She was wearing yellow the day I first realized I truly loved her. She was helping a first year with his homework, and even though he was being so impatient with her, she was sticking with him. She was explaining things so complex, in such a simple way.
She was so beautiful, even though she refused to admit it. Even when she has no make-up on, her hair is sloppily thrown in a pony-tail and she's wearing loose clothes, she's still beautiful.
She was still perfect. For anyone. For me.
(LINE)
She was wearing gold the day she finally said yes, that day in seventh year. Her smile was bigger than I thought it could ever be. But it wasn't even close to the size of mine. She was more beautiful than ever. She was mine. And to think, I was just about ready to give up on her.
She was perfect. For anyone. For me.
(LINE)
She was wearing brown the day I asked her to be mine. She was crying again. But this time, they were delicate tears of joy. I was crying too. Kissing her all over.
Soon she would be mine. And I would be hers. I was so glad I didn't give up on her.
She was perfect. For anyone. For me.
(LINE)
She was wearing white the day we said "I do." She looked stunning walking down the aisle, next to her father. Everyone was staring at her, thinking how beautiful she was. She was mine, now. No one could take her from me. No one.
She was perfect. For me. For only me.
(LINE)
She was wearing teal the day she told me I was going to be a father. She was muttering and anxious. But she was happy, happier than I'd ever seen her. I took her in my arms and spun her around. We were going to be parents.
Everything was perfect. She was perfect. For me. For our child.
(LINE)
She was wearing navy when our little Harry came into the world.
She was perfect. He was perfect. We were perfect.
