Dislaimer: I own nothing. You hear that? NOTHING! I even got the idea of this story from something else.
Eyes
I guess I have always watched him. From the first time I saw him, right before we were sorted. He had this messy jet-black hair, and eyes that shone like emeralds. They showed his every thought, from his surprise when the hat started singing, to his frustration as the hat sorted him. At age eleven, his eyes shone like brilliant emeralds.
I kept on watching him, from the shadows of course, and I always noticed his eyes. Every year the looked less like emeralds, more like a dark, weary jade-green. They still kept a little of their innocence though, and I could still read him like an open book.
When we came back for our sixth year, it all changed. He was more, closed off. He started burying himself in his work, hardly speaking. His eyes though, were now jade-green orbs, containing a weariness far beyond his years.
A few months before our graduation, some light came back into his eyes. Peter Pettigrew was caught, and his godfather was proven innocent, though he was dead. More and more deatheaters were being caught and the war was looking good for the light side. Five months after graduation, we won the war. He left the spotlight, and was, for the first time in his life, truly happy.
I feel the person beside me in bed stir. I roll over and watch love filled jade-green emerald eyes open. The same eyes I have watched since I first saw them, the same eyes I fell in love with. Those eyes belong to Harry James Potter, my husband. I am Blaise Zambini-Potter, his wife of five years, and I will watch those eyes until the end of my days.