AN: You know that prompt where you only see colour if you've met your soul mate and the colour disappears if they die? No? Oh... Anyway. Don't own prompt or the HP characters. I hope it is not confusing.
Warning: Depressive, unfulfilled relationship - One shot
R&R to let me know if i am barking up the right tree here :) Please.
The Colour of soul
Lily lived in black and white. Her soulmate wasn't James. James said he saw the vibrant colours of the world 'ever since i met you' he had claimed. She knew she wasn't his soul mate, but she could pretend- they both could. They did until the end.
The colours disappeared abruptly the day James died. Neither had ever acknowledged it. He helped James win over Lily with the coy smiles. He hadn't wanted to risk their friendship. James hadn't wanted to admit it. Knowing he would never see the green of little pronglets eyes and the raven sheen of Harrys hair - the perfect blend of his friends - almost riveled the pain of knowing he would never see his Prongs again. His soul mate.
Dumbledore lost all colour the day Grindelwell fell. He never knew the shocking green eyes or the red hair of Lily. He couldn't see the red leak into Toms Eyes. He never could identify a Weasly in a crowd. He still dreamed of his soul mates Blond hair and twinkling eyes. His hair had been the same colour of fresh Lemons.
It had been small at first, a odd shine after they had first locked eyes. Slowly his eyes had got greener and greener till they were practically glowing, his plump lips had a pink tinge and his hair would shimmer in the sun the grass started getting more vibrate but would never surpass his eyes. The red in his scarf glared at him and the brown table mocked him as he notice his lily white skin and silver detailed uniform. The day he realized he wore his colours he couldn't be more proud. Draco realized when the colors dimmed. He realized suddenly that not everyone could see the colours , that he couldn't always see the colours. He realized the boy he had tormented and bullied was the one he was destined to love and protect - his perfect match - his true happiness. Every time the colours faded slightly he knew, he knew Harry was in danger in that moment. Every time the colours came back he breathed a sigh of relief 'He's alive.' Just his luck to be soul mates with the Boy-who-lived.
Ginny looked at Harry Potter expecting the world to explode in colour. It didn't. She had run to Molly demanding explanation after the express left. She had been told to be patient. Then Ginny met him, her soul mate at the world cup. The world had slowly exploded and she saw her red hair for the first time, he had looked at her with a slack jaw and muttered 'wow'. The fireworks had lit the sky and before she new it he had been dragged off by his friends. She vowed that if she survived the war she would find the boy with blue eyes who had given colour to her life. She had to. Ginny demanded her happy ending.
"What colour is a radish?" Luna asked one day. "What colour is the grass?" She asked the next day. Harry looked at her with wide eyes, "A radish is red, the grass is green." She had looked at him with wonderment, "What do the colours look like?". Harry didn't understand, she had magic, she knew she had magic, Is that not where colours come from? Is it not the magic in the air which opens their eyes? How could she not see them. One day he asked why she saw no colours, "I have yet to find mine." She had whispered and walked away.
Eyes widened in astonishment. Everything she touched blossomed in colour, it swept from her smile as she flew across the pitch. Ruby lips parted and stole his breath as her quittach robes leaked red into the sun set. He could see his brother hult as he noticed the swirl of colour they had wanted to somehow incorperate into the crackers, nothing would ever be more vibrant.
It hurt. She was the only thing in clolour. Only her. Her blond hair, her pink lips, her blue eyes, her pale skin. Not his plants, nor his own lips, skin, robes. She could be his sould mate except she didn't see it. She didn't see the colours. As each colour got more vibrant he got more numb. As he saw more - he felt less. He was not her soul mate even if she was his. He wished he had never seen the colours. Then he wouldn't have to miss them.
Colour was a part of her life. Her husbands smile told her it was a part of his life as well. Seven children and they were still happy. When the world had dipped into Grey she had fallen in shock, it had never happened since they had met. The clock had stuck Mortal Peral and she screamed. 'No, not her Arthur.'
A simple trip to the shop had changed his life. Packing the red sweet potatoes when suddenly it had faded to grey. the Green shopping cart seemed to drip the colour into a void, the tiles seemed to dim and the cream walls went white. His once purple shirt darkened to black where the tears fell onto it. He fell in the shops. His phone was silent and he looked up at the now colourless fruit stands. Charity Burbage was dead.
Not once had he seen colour. He Knew it was a myth , another device to torture him with. A constract made by those who despised him and would see him fail. He knew the only true beauty was power. His absolute power and this so called colour was just a way to distract him from his task. Just as the fool Dumbledore had not seen the Red, Tom didn't see the red which held his eyes captive. It was only power which is as beautiful as the screams of those who had the audacity not to wield it properly or at all.
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AN : R&R to feed me. I have just spent the last 30min jumping with joy of the latest reviews on other fics - I absolutely love hearing from people (What they think and all) . 3
Also i don't think just because 'person A' is perfect for 'person B' then 'Person B' MUST be perfect for 'person A'. Then im also uneducated in physiology so...
