He had Lily's eyes. That same emerald green, that same almond shape. Every time he looked into them, Severus Snape felt as though he were drowning. He could almost imagine her sitting beside him in the sunlit park, asking to hear more about Hogwarts and the magical world. And he would tell her and stare wistfully, wondering if she might ever grow to love him back.
But he had Potter's face. That same arrogant expression, the same conceited smirk – the same person who stole Lily away.
No matter how many times he caught the boy's eye, the first response was always a glimmer of hope that Lily had come back. And then he would recollect himself, hopes dashed once more. Perhaps that had been part of why he'd been so cruel to Harry. Every time he looked his way, fragile hopes would be smothered, leaving behind a man even more bitter than before.
But how was one supposed to act towards a boy who simultaneously had the features of an enemy and the eyes of a best friend, an only friend, and a girl he'd loved? It'd been years and years since he'd last seen her face, and even longer since they'd spoken, but he could still remember every last memory of his time with her. After all these years, nothing had subsided, no barriers erected for protection, however much he sometimes wished it. But he was afraid to forget, even if it were possible, for nothing would fade from his ever-acute memory. Her favorite color was purple, her favorite flower honeysuckle, and her favorite class potions. She had a large mass of dark red hair that bounced merrily when she walked. She had pale-ish skin, her height was 5'6 1/2" and she had called him Sev. Her laugh was rich and warm and infectious; she was the only one who could ever make him really smile.
He wished more than anything to go back to that fateful day, not to utter that unforgivable word when she'd only been trying to help, but it was too late. It had just slipped out, he was embarrassed, and didn't want his fellow Slytherins to think he needed help from a muggle-born! He'd tried to apologize that night, but she would not forgive him. That one word had pushed her away forever, no, not just that one word, for she had been tipping more and more precariously over the years. And with each coming term, he'd gotten steadily darker, closer to the Dark Lord, while Lily stepped farther and farther away. If he could relive those years, he most certainly would have changed.
How could he have been so stupid? What did he think the Dark Lord had that Lily Evans did not? But it was too late, and all he could possibly do was to protect her only son with her same green, almond shaped eyes.
Once again, Severus Snape recalled the day he lost Lily Evans. He'd waited outside their common room for hours, and would have waited all night to see her. She had come out in her nightdress, her arms folded, her eyes cold as he'd tried to explain to his less than sympathetic listener. He'd prepared, and reran every part of his speech to her during his long wait outside, arranged her replies with ready answers, until she'd fall gratefully into his arms, granting him full clemency while accepting his choice to follow the Dark Lord, all the while proclaiming her undying love and devotion. Who'd he been kidding? It hadn't gone as planned at all; he had no answers to her hard put questions. All those preparations had fallen to pieces, he didn't say anything he was supposed to have said, nor did she ask what she should have asked, what he'd wanted her to ask.
Why should she be different than any other of those mudbloods at Hogwarts? Because he loved her so she must be an exception. Yes, he would join the Dark Lord as soon as he left school, he couldn't deny it. Yes, he was against everyone of her birth, but she was different. He loved her, it was that simple. No, it wasn't simple at all. He couldn't tell her that, and even if he had, Snape doubted even now that it would have changed anything at all. "You've chosen your path, I've chosen mine." Those words echoed once more in his mind as he saw a dark figure walk away. He should have known. Conversations never go as you plan them to. Nothing ever happened as Severus Snape wanted them to.
And James Potter stole her away. Potter was everything Snape was not. Everything flowed like honey for him. He was popular, good at quiddich, had a model family who gave him his every last desire, good at spells without even opening a book, he was a ringleader of their little gang of Marauders that every student wished to be. And then he had Lily. Potter and his friends had bullied him from the moment he'd stepped on the train. He was arrogant, and self absorbed. What made everything a million times worse was that Potter had saved his life.
He couldn't blame Lily for choosing Potter over himself. He was superior, in everything. Somehow, Potter'd changed for the better while he'd changed for the worse. But he would never forget how Potter had treated him, humiliated him in front of his peers. And it was his fault for ruining his friendship with Lily.
Harry was just like him. Just as arrogant, strutting around the castle like he owned the place. A small amount of talent on the quiddich field made him think he was a cut above the rest of the Hogwarts population. He thought himself a celebrity just because he was "the boy who lived." He wouldn't have lived if it weren't for Snape's help. Voldemort would never have hesitated to kill Lily if his loyal servant had not pleaded for it. But he would never tell Hary that. But he would continue to help him, keep him alive. For Lily's sake.