Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters
Eyes
Harry Potter
"His eyes. After you get over the initial shock of meeting the Harry Potter, his eyes draw you in; they were a brilliant, flawless green. Like two emeralds. I remember that they held a slight twinkle, not doubt to match the grin on his face at his friend's antics. Then he looked my way, and I forgot why I was there. They were hypnotizing. They seemed impossibly deep. When he looked away with those eyes of his I wanted to cry out, like a child being deprived of their favorite plaything. The next time we met, his gaze was focused on me, just me, not just another face in the crowd. They were piercing, it seemed as if with those eyes he could see into your soul, find all of the imperfections that are invisible to the naked eye. And they were calculating, as if seeing which side you were on, and even you purpose for being there, even what you might end up doing. They could find emotions, or maybe sense them. You never could tell with his eyes.
People say that the eyes are the windows to a person's soul. In his case, that saying was ever true. Those eyes could convey emotions that words could, or rather would, not be able to. They could also convey the depth of emotions. But his eyes were also the world's greatest masks. They were as talented as he was. They could mask emotions; they could convey different emotions than what he felt inside. But if you were lucky, and I was, on more than one occasion, the masks fell and I was able to see them for what they really were. What they really wanted to tell the world. I was simply amazed at how much those eyes could convey.
The last time I saw those eyes, was during the Last Battle. They were hard. They were as hard as flint, and as cold as steel. They weren't as bright. They weren't an emerald green; they were the colour of rich jade. They were a deep green that no one thought that his eyes could reach. Only war can do that to something so beautiful. I was standing maybe ten meters from the boy, and I could feel the air humming with strictly controlled power. The expression on his face was calm. But when you looked in his eyes, you were taken aback at the pure smoldering rage in them. I never know that a person so young could hold that much rage inside them. The rage had turned his eyes a deep forest green, you had to look closely to distinguish the iris from the pupil. His eyes frightened me, it seemed like the power that he had been controlling had changed their colour, which in itself frightened me. When he went up against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, it seemed as if his eyes turned black, but no, they had turned a forest green. I must admit, it frightened me. He was so powerful, that when he went up against You-Know-Who, the earth itself seemed to shake.
After he finally killed You-Know-Who he walked away from the battlefield. I rushed after him and asked for an interview. He smiled at me and politely declined, we had become friendly after I started to write the truth. I remember how tired he looked, but he looked so satisfied. I envied him so much at the end. He had everything, and his life was seemingly perfect. It was then I realized why everyone loved him so much. He was a hero, quite unlike the rest of us, but at the same time, he was human, he could relate to every single one of us. He was a truly extraordinary person, and we will all miss him until the day we die."
The entire congregation was in tears at the end of this, each lost in their own memory of how Harry Potter had helped them in their lives, and they realized that she was right. No one would ever forget Harry Potter until the day they each died. He will forever be a legend.
Eyes
Harry Potter
"His eyes. After you get over the initial shock of meeting the Harry Potter, his eyes draw you in; they were a brilliant, flawless green. Like two emeralds. I remember that they held a slight twinkle, not doubt to match the grin on his face at his friend's antics. Then he looked my way, and I forgot why I was there. They were hypnotizing. They seemed impossibly deep. When he looked away with those eyes of his I wanted to cry out, like a child being deprived of their favorite plaything. The next time we met, his gaze was focused on me, just me, not just another face in the crowd. They were piercing, it seemed as if with those eyes he could see into your soul, find all of the imperfections that are invisible to the naked eye. And they were calculating, as if seeing which side you were on, and even you purpose for being there, even what you might end up doing. They could find emotions, or maybe sense them. You never could tell with his eyes.
People say that the eyes are the windows to a person's soul. In his case, that saying was ever true. Those eyes could convey emotions that words could, or rather would, not be able to. They could also convey the depth of emotions. But his eyes were also the world's greatest masks. They were as talented as he was. They could mask emotions; they could convey different emotions than what he felt inside. But if you were lucky, and I was, on more than one occasion, the masks fell and I was able to see them for what they really were. What they really wanted to tell the world. I was simply amazed at how much those eyes could convey.
The last time I saw those eyes, was during the Last Battle. They were hard. They were as hard as flint, and as cold as steel. They weren't as bright. They weren't an emerald green; they were the colour of rich jade. They were a deep green that no one thought that his eyes could reach. Only war can do that to something so beautiful. I was standing maybe ten meters from the boy, and I could feel the air humming with strictly controlled power. The expression on his face was calm. But when you looked in his eyes, you were taken aback at the pure smoldering rage in them. I never know that a person so young could hold that much rage inside them. The rage had turned his eyes a deep forest green, you had to look closely to distinguish the iris from the pupil. His eyes frightened me, it seemed like the power that he had been controlling had changed their colour, which in itself frightened me. When he went up against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, it seemed as if his eyes turned black, but no, they had turned a forest green. I must admit, it frightened me. He was so powerful, that when he went up against You-Know-Who, the earth itself seemed to shake.
After he finally killed You-Know-Who he walked away from the battlefield. I rushed after him and asked for an interview. He smiled at me and politely declined, we had become friendly after I started to write the truth. I remember how tired he looked, but he looked so satisfied. I envied him so much at the end. He had everything, and his life was seemingly perfect. It was then I realized why everyone loved him so much. He was a hero, quite unlike the rest of us, but at the same time, he was human, he could relate to every single one of us. He was a truly extraordinary person, and we will all miss him until the day we die."
The entire congregation was in tears at the end of this, each lost in their own memory of how Harry Potter had helped them in their lives, and they realized that she was right. No one would ever forget Harry Potter until the day they each died. He will forever be a legend.