Eyes
Eleven years old Ginny had tangled hair, freckles, stubby legs and short eyelashes. She wasn't much to look at. She had eyes that were alive though. Eyes that always danced with excitement whenever a certain blonde Slytherin boy sauntered past, eyes that shone with anticipation, eyes that glittered with naughtiness.
Twenty-six years old Ginny had smooth straight hair, fair flawless skin, miles-long legs and long curled eyelashes. She was hot, so to speak. But if you looked into her eyes, there was nothing. Literally nothing. There was only a dark space which was a black hole that sucked in all her soul. To be fair, her eyes were like mirrors. They could only reflect. Perhaps long periods of staring into his mercury orbs had coated a thin layer of mercury onto her own eyes.
Ever since Ginny Weasley was separated by force from Draco Malfoy, her eyes reflected gray eyes whenever she looked into the emerald eyes of her husband, Harry Potter.