"I take care of what’s mine," he said, and her blood ran cold. She thought she should be used to those cold, pale eyes by now after all these years, but they were still unsettling, especially when he got this close. She’d seen many people with eyes like that before—not quite blue, not quite grey but somewhere in-between. But none of them came close to the Dark Lord’s, for his eyes seemed to hold a power of their own that seemed to suck you in even if he only glanced at you for a fraction of a second. Their pull was impossible to resist. Pansy was sure even if she never saw him again, she would never find an equal to that gaze.