Spectrum
In the end, everything fades away into darkness.
Red:
She carefully applies the blood like lipstick to her lips, and looks in the mirror. She feels older and smarter, and ready for the world. The smirk is unsettling on her face, but she grows use to it. Sort of like when her mother killed herself. She got over it, in the end. It just took a little while.
Orange:
Orange reminds her of fire, burning through her. It reminds her of when he and she are tangled together in silk sheets, Mozart playing softly in the background. She feels wanted then, surrounded by the sweetness of it all. Her mother uses to love oranges, before she stopped loving things all together.
Yellow:
She likes dandelions the most. He called them weeds, but yet picks them and shoves them at her, scowling the entire time. She twirls barefoot in them all, yellow washing over her slowly. She feels light and happier, when the colours aren't so bleak.
Green:
He wears green. He looks best in green, because that is where he belongs. An endless rift between them, of houses and blood and rights and families. He has two powerful parents, a Lord and a Lady. Her parents are either crazy or dead. But green is fresh. Even when blood stains it, green is overwhelming.
Blue:
The sky is blue, and she loves the sky. He sweeps her up high, racing upwards with her behind him on his broom. They pretend that one day, they will not return to the land, but rather somewhere better. His arm is stained with death; her heart is broken with death. Blue somehow washes it all away. Makes it better, somehow.
Indigo:
She cries hot tears that burn her face, and screams her throat bloody and raw. It is no matter though; Bellatrix doesn't care about her pain. Its torture and hate. Everything Bellatrix is and Draco is supposed to be but isn't. The cellar isn't black, nor is it white. It's faded to indigo, straying past blue. Draco had given her orbs of light silently, so she wouldn't be entirely afraid. It hadn't worked.
Violet:
She lays violets on his grave. He had always loved violets the way she had loved dandelions. She cries in regret, things never said. He died, in battle. He died shielding younger from evil. They call him foul words and spit on his grave. He is a hero, no matter how much he loathed the title. She smiles a small little smile, the same one she had given her mother, minutes before she killed herself.
Black:
Death is black and life is blacker. Luna watched her mother die, her father's execution and her love's final moments. She's suffered so many no dandelions can ever break through it all. The colours are just a wall of defense. But they all fade to darkness when curtain falls, and everything ends. Death is the colour she last sees's when she releases her final breath.
No idea. Just went with it bro.