Through the eyes of blind love

Ch.1 Her

A/N: Hey guys, this is my first attempt at Wattpad haha. I've published this story in Ao3 and Ffnet, but I believe it was due time I give Wattpad a chance too. I'm still trying to figure out how to use it, so please bear with me! I may not have as many A/N here, but if you have any questions/comments, I'll answer them. I was on hiatus for a bit, but since then I found a lovely beta reader so finally, I'll be able to finish this fic.  I hope you enjoy this story, and please keep reading! 

P.S. The lovely artwork for my fic was made by Gildedshivers. You can find her on Instagram and Tumblr. She does amazing HP fanart! 

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1st of September, 1998

She's always had long, bushy, brown hair. Over the years, she'd learned to tame and transform it from those puffy locks into beautiful silky curls. Those hazel ringlets with a tint of gold swayed through the thin air as if it wanted to grasp eternally the sweet smell of her perfume; a combination of lavender, vanilla, pumpkin juice, and hiding in the sweet aroma, was a touch of parchment and books. Just the way she's always been.

She had thick, mysterious, natural, and somewhat soft, dark brown eyebrows. They didn't need any plucking or coloring; they were perfect. And they stood just above her eyes.

Eyes in which it was pretty easy to get lost within. Her almond-shaped eyes, which held so much emotion, told stories many people wouldn't dare to see. Her dark-brown orbs shone when the light hit them, making them even brighter.

Her small, refined and somehow perky nose stood out perfectly in between her cheekbones, spread with light freckles and with a rosy glow that had a color furthermore prominent when she blushed.

Tracing down her cheekbones were her lips. Her lips were soft, pink, and although they were small, they formed a small heart shape on her upper lip. The strawberry colour on her lips always stood out from her oval face, they didn't need any artificial colour to be beautiful. They looked more tempting by the minute and even more with the habit she picked over the last few years, unconsciously biting her lower lip every now and then. Those lips that traced that famous smile of hers. Her smile. Those who had seen her real, big, beautiful smile could describe the feeling of happiness that radiated from it. The smile of hers that beamed and made her face look more lovely with every time she did it. A smile she reserved, showing it only to a handful of people.

Then there was the makeup. She didn't need any makeup or anything of the sort. Her fair skin matched perfectly with the rosy glow of her cheeks and the strawberry lips she naturally wore. Most girls envied her for that. Being blessed with a clean complexion, and with natural color was something most girls didn't have. But she did. Although, it was true that with some amount of makeup her features would stand out more, without it she was dazzling. Sometimes she would wear a soft cherry lipstick barely noticeable that made her lips even juicer; it was hard to contain oneself from kissing every bit of those lips.

Her appearance had always been tiny and gentle, she didn't eat much it was true, but she was as healthy as any young woman could be. All the angles and curves fell into the right places. She never wore revealing clothes or anything close to it, but when she did wear a blouse with a little cleavage or a mid-high skirt, she unintentionally teased with the amount of skin and imagination she was leaving revealed. Her long, creamy legs and thin arms were excellent in proportion with the rest of her body as well as her mind, so purely brilliant harmonized with all of her.

Not that she knew any of this nor she would see herself like that.

For her, it had always been the same look; plain and boring. Her curls, although tamed, weren't as stunning or looked as bright as the hair of some of her classmates. She never wore any makeup not because she hated it or didn't need use for it, but it just didn't fit with her personality. She also didn't believe she had perfect skin, far from it. The reminder of her being simple and mundane would appear when she would sometimes catch a glimpse of the faces with pure, perfect skins that appeared in "Witch Weekly" her best friend would sometimes carry around. The reminder that told her how "perfect" skin should look. Taking away what the magazine said, she'd never felt like the most lovely flower of the bunch or even beautiful. She was just plain ordinary. She couldn't picture herself as perfect as the witches in the magazines.