so i saw an ig post about a blown iris because of a lightning strike or whatever it was and it got me thinking, what if instead of a lightning scar, harry got himself a heterochromatic eye like grindelwald? one green and one something like the picture? beware, it may look gore-ish to some, enjoy!
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It was everywhere. The whispers.
He knew what they called him behind his back from the age where he started understanding words.
A freak to the Muggle world.
Everyone looked at him as if he was a demonic being, possessed. They cast him away, too afraid to be anywhere near him. They fear him and his eyes.
Harry grew up with so much hatred and resentment bubbling in his veins. He knew what he was the moment he reached the age of 4. He was someone with an abnormality, a power.
His green eye that once held innocence was robbed from him but he acted docile, letting the Dursleys abuse him, scar him. It made his blood boiled, sizzling hot with rage but he calmed himself quickly, putting on a childish mask. Patience, he reminded himself. One day you'll get rid of them once you're old enough.
Then a half-giant named Hagrid came barging through the front door to take him away to Hogwarts.
Thankfully he had immediately learned about a glamour spell and cast it on himself to hide his imperfections away from the eyes of people.
Harry had never hated anything else more than his freaky blinded pale eye.
∆
"I know you hate your eyes," Harry heard a familiar voice in an unfamiliar tone speaking behind him. He didn't bother to turn around and look who the voice belonged to, already knowing the answer to his non-question question.
Instead, he stared off the distance from the Astronomy Tower, soaking in the cold air with a calm look on his face. "Why are you here, Malfoy?" he grunted rudely. "I came here for some peace. Not to have a conversation with you."
"I noticed how you avoided looking at the mirrors," the 13-year-old Slytherin said instead, softly as he sat down next to him, close enough for Harry to feel his body heat. "You never looked at anything that shows reflection. At first, I thought it was because of your looks but then I noticed how many times you flinched– even though subtle– when you heard someone mentioned about your eyes looking like your mothers'."
The blond turned Harry's face gently with his dainty slender fingers. His eyes were closed shut, not wanting to see the male at all. His blood pulsed hotly in his veins but not in anger. It was something else. Something Harry couldn't quite put a finger on. Something he had never felt before. "Come on, Potter. Open your eyes. I know you put on glamour to hide it away," he coaxed gently, caressing his cheek lightly. Harry breathed through his nose shakily, feeling scared to see Draco's disgusted look in his eyes and embarrassed for feeling scared in the first place. "I want to see them."
"Finite Incantatem," he cast and Harry opened his eyes in alarmed, staring into Draco's surprised expression with horror.
"No!" Harry scrambled for his wand but Draco gripped his arms tightly, unable him from moving away. "N-No, don't look! Please! I'm hideous! I look like a monster!" his eyes teared up but the other male pulled him into a hug as he broke down crying. "I'm a freak."
The Malfoy heir shook his head with a sad smile. "No, Harry. You're beautiful and no one saw that beauty in you," he said before adding, "You have such beautiful eyes, you know,? The eyes of a strong warrior. I heard what people called people like us with a dead eye. A demonic being but they're wrong. They're so wrong. It's the most angelic thing ever that I found so endearing."
