Disclaimer: Ha! I wish!
A/N: Ok, so this is officially my first Harry Potter fanfic. It's not my first fanfic though, not by a long shot, but you usually find me over on the Gilmore Girls database so from that respect, this is a totally new experience for me. So, this is just a fluff-filled little one-shot about James/Lily and Harry/Ginny because a couple of weeks ago, I set myself the challange of reading all seven HPs consecutively 'cause I hadn't read them in a while and as I was reading through OotP and HBP, I realised something...James had brown eyes, Lily had green. Harry has green eyes, Ginny has brown. But apart from the eyes, Harry and Ginny are sort of like clones of James and Lily so I thought it would be a bit of fluffy fun to do a fic about the eyes, hence the title. It's set partially in the Maurauder's Era and partly in Harry's because I found some nice parallels between the characters and I couldn't resist slipping in a bit of History of Magic note-passing. Ok. So, that was probably the longest, most pointless and most rambling of all Author's Notes so I'll stop talking and let you start reading now.
A/N Take Two: Sorry, just remember...reviews equal love but try to keep the flames to a minimum, please 'cause I know Hagrid likes dragons but I'm not exactly a fan of Hungarian Horntails!
In life, there are very few things that you can be certain of. In a wizards' life, there are even fewer but one thing that we can all be assured of is that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. No matter how hard we try to fight it, that oh-so-wonderful thing called 'genetics' kicks in and we inevitably end up like our parents.
For Harry Potter, this is nothing new. From the age of eleven (or possibly even before that when Petunia was feeling particularly vicious), Harry had always been told that he was just like his father. A miniature James, except for his eyes. He has his mother's eyes. What Harry didn't know, however, was that this resemblance wasn't just credited to his appearance but also to the way he chose his friends and-eventually-his girlfriends…
James Potter loves Lily Evans
Prongs, I wish you'd stop embellishing that onto all of our notes…we kind of already know that you want to get into Evans' pants!
Padfoot, how dare you allude to my wanting to get into Evans' pants?! What if Prof. Binns finds this?! What if Evans finds this?!
Prof. Binns hasn't paid attention in his own classes since he started teaching; he's hardly likely to take an interest in them now. Besides, Evans also already knows that you want to get into her pants!
Could have something to do with the fact that you're always asking her out, mate…
Moony! Tell me it's not true!
Sorry, Prongs, but not only do I agree with Padfoot, but I also won't take part in the note-passing…after all, who else are you going to copy Binns' notes from?
Ooh good, end of lesson. Hey, Prongs, maybe you could try asking Evans out now? Maybe she's had some sort of spell damage since yesterday…
Shut up, Padfoot.
As James stepped out of his History of Magic class, he found Lily Evans hovering by the doorway, seemingly waiting to speak to Professor Binns (an impressive goal).
Lily Evans. Flaming red hair and sparkling emerald eyes. James has been in love with her since he first met her but she has a fiery attitude to match her hair whenever it comes to James Potter.
As soon as he spotted her, his free hand flew to his hair and ruffled it. She huffed slightly at his arrogance.
"Hey, Evans!" he called jubilantly.
"What, Potter? Did something hit you on the head?"
"Well, you seem to think that I want to talk to you…" But she was still giving him the opportunity to continue.
"Well, you see, Evans, you might change your mind when you consider my proposition…" James' confidence swelled.
"Yeah. Well, I propose that you come to Hogsmead with me, Evans. What do you say?"
"I say; go hex yourself, Potter," Lily said matter-of-factly before stalking off, apparently forgetting that she needed to see Professor Binns.
"Ouch, Prongs! You shouldn't give her options!" chuckled Sirius.
James started running down the corridor after her, dodging Peeves, who had chosen that precise moment to start shooting ink pellets at unsuspecting students.
"Evans! Hey, Evans!"
She wheeled around, wand drawn.
"What, Potter?" She hissed through gritted teeth, pointing her wand directly at James' chest. She had had enough.
He hesitated for a split-second but decided that it was worth a shot…
"I love you, Lily!"
Her bottle green eyes flashed suspiciously but she had to concede that he was being sincere. James Potter loved her. James Potter loved her. James Potter loved her. James Potter loved her.
"Deflate your head a bit, James. Then we can discuss me going out with you."
She walked away but he didn't care. He was so happy right at that moment that nothing-not even Sirius hexing Snape-could have pulled him out of his daze.
She had called him James.
"I love you, Evans," he whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her blazing tresses.
"You think you're such a charmer, don't you, Potter?" she mocked.
"Well, Flitwick has always said that my wand technique is exceptional…"
A twinkle lit up his chocolate-coloured eyes. He elicited the response he was looking for, as she hit him playfully on the arm before crushing her lips against his.
Harry closed the photo album on his parents smiling faces and looked into the dusty mirror, which immediately told him to tidy his hair. He didn't bother-his hair is permanently stuck in every possible direction.
He looks exactly like his father. Skinny and tall with unruly thick black hair and glasses. He had also inherited James' ability on the Quidditch pitch and his attitude towards his friends, not to mention his hatred of Snape.
It also seems that Harry has inherited his father's taste in women.
Harry Potter loves Ginny Weasley
I wish you'd stop doodling that on every scrap piece of parchment, Harry.
Sorry, Ron…I didn't know we were writing notes on it.
It's HoM. We always write notes, don't we, Hermione?
Well, you shouldn't! Why don't you both try to pay attention for once?
Come on, Hermione, you know that you're the only one who is immune to the boredom of Binns' lectures…
Harry's right. Without you, we're lost…
Hmm. Fine…So, Harry, have you decided to finally do something about Ginny?
Hermione! She's my sister!
So she's my sister and just because I've given my permission for Harry to like her…
Your permission?! Since when has Harry (or Ginny, for that matter) needed your permission to do anything?
Well…actually, Hermione, I kinda do need his permission for this. I mean, Ginny's his sister.
There you go!
Oh be quiet, Ronald! You know, Harry, I've been thinking…
Uh oh…that doesn't sound good…
Don't be ridiculous. I was just thinking that…well, your mother had red hair, didn't she?
Well, so does Ginny. It's sort of like history repeating itself, isn't it?
I wouldn't know. I never got a chance to ask.
Sorry, I just thought it was…nice. That's all.
Finally. So glad that lesson is over! Hope you took some good notes, Hermione!
Ginny Weasley was standing outside Harry's History of Magic classroom as he emerged. As she saw him, she flicked her long red hair back. It flamed in the light. In a gesture that was so unlike him but so much like James, Harry's free hand sprung, almost automatically, to his hair and ruffled it.
Ginny strolled over to him just as Hermione dragged Ron away.
"So, the date is up for next Hogsmead weekend," she said casually.
"Yeah?" asked Harry as his throat closed up.
"Yeah. Looks like it's gonna be on Valentine's Day." She was looking at him oddly.
"Oh. How…um…pink?" He cursed himself for his inability to think of a witty response.
"I guess. But I have no one to go with." Harry knew this, having spent the past week inwardly gloating over her break-up with Dean Thomas.
"Doyouwannagotohogsmeadwithme?" he garbled.
"Um…in English, Harry?"
Harry took a deep breath and decided to just give it a try…
"Do you want to go to Hogsmead with me?"
"Yeah. I could do that…" she beamed up at him.
He looked around for Ron, who stiffly nodded his approval.
When James Potter's chocolate irises had locked with Lily Evans' emerald ones, little did he know that his son's eyes-which were so much like his mother's-would gaze into the chocolate brown eyes of his fiery redheaded girlfriend.
Green met brown, just as they had done almost twenty years previously.