It's really short, I know, I'm sorry, but if you want to find out what happens next for Snape (in my world) oyu can read the one shot I'm about to go put up, called Looking At Her Again.
Summary: Snape's thoughts on his last moments. Weird for me because I hate the guy but this wouldn't leave me alone until it was written. [Potter's boy, Potter's boy, Potter's boy...but her eyes.
He still remembered the first time he'd noticed her. Her eyes. Startling, jewel-bright. Maybe he'd fallen in love with her then, that little boy in the weird clothes, his own dark eyes darting around nervously around, trying to detect a threat, any threat.
He was always scared, always alert, and yet she'd always been able to calm him, relax him.
He still remembered the shock, the guilt - drowning in the guilt - when Dumbledore had told him she was gone. Dead. His Lily, dead.
His Lily. No, no, she wasn't his. Never had been his, despite what he'd allowed himself to hope, despite him allowing himself to believe that someday she would be.
Instead, he'd pushed her away. Oh, accidentally, but he'd pushed her away, too blind - blinded by her, her eyes and her hair and her heart - to see what he was doing, to see that he was slowly destroying their friendship every time he forged another one, every time he was pulled deeper into the dark arts, the death eaters, the very things she hated. He'd always assumed that she cared for him, maybe even loved him, as deeply as he loved her, and so she would always forgive him, that nothing he could do would take her away from him.
And only when it was too late, when he'd lost her forever, had he realised his mistake. And hurt, and lost, and hating himself, he'd sold his soul to the dark lord. And later, without even realising it, he'd sold Lily's life.
She'd died, Lily, to save her son. Gave her life for Potter's son.
And hadn't that been the worst of it? That she'd been with Potter, that she'd loved Potter, married and lived and had a child with Potter. His fault, of course. He had pushed her away, and into the arms of James Potter.
Severus himself had helped protect the boy, strengthen Lily's sacrifice, for her, for his love for her, for her forgiveness. He'd helped protect Potter's boy.
Potter's boy, Potter's boy, Potter's boy...but her eyes.
God, that had hurt. Seeing them...He'd never lain eyes on the boy until he was eleven, and arriving at Hogwarts. Of course, he heard that Harry had Lily's eyes. Dumbledore himself had told him. But seeing them...seeing her eyes set into Potter's face had been torture.
Every single time he'd seen them, seen Harry, the shock had been like a punch to the heart.
And he blamed Harry. Voldemort may have held the wand that took Lily's life, but it was because of Harry that he'd done it. If there was no Harry, she would still be alive today.
If there was no Severus Snape she would still be alive today.
Because he'd started the whole ball rolling, hadn't he? Repeated the words he'd heard, started Voldemort on the twisty path that would eventually lead him to Godric's Hallow, to Lily.
Wormtail. God, he despised the man. Because he, Snape, had tried to fix his mistake, hadn't he? Changed sides, given information, tried to keep her safe. And that rat had broken the protection, had sold Lily out just as much as he had. More, even, maybe. Because Lily had stopped trusting him years before. But she trusted the rat that betrayed her.
So the blame for Lily Evans's death could be spread out. Divided, maybe even equally.
So why, then, did it feel as though it was his entire fault? Why, then, did he feel guilty enough to keep Potter's boy safe, when he blamed the boy? Why?
Because of her eyes. The eyes that had, when he was just a child himself, looked into his, and not seen the clothes, or the hair, or the fear, or the darkness that boy already possessed, but trusted him, even loved him, if not in the way he'd wanted. She had been the only one to see past everything else and care for him.
And that boy, Potter's boy, Harry, had her eyes. He had - and Snape would never admit it, even to himself - had her heart. And those eyes looked at him, day after day, with the same hate James Potter had always had, and, eventually, the same hate that Lily Potter must have had towards him.
And yet, only moments before, Severus Snape had been desperately trying to get away from his master so he could tell Potter's boy that he had to die to save the world, risking his life so he could help Potter's boy.
And now, Severus Snape was desperately fighting for his life, even as the snake's venom spread through him and slowly took the life from him.
Movement caught his attention, and he used the last of the energy he had to focus on the figure crawling into the Shrieking Shack.
And now, Severus Snape was looking at Potter's boy. And, because he didn't have time to wonder why the idiot was here, so close to Voldemort, he was simply trying to tell Harry Potter what had to be done while there was still time.
"Take...it...take...it..." He forced himself to hang on, to live, while Harry collected the memories Snape had to give him - more than he had to give him, but Snape's thoughts were filled with Lily and so memories of her must have spilled out too.
Death. He was dying. He could feel it, feel everything fading, and knew that the last thing he would see would be Harry Potter, had to be Harry Potter, because he had to die looking into those emerald eyes.
"Look...at...me..." He croaked, because he had to see the green. And Harry's eyes met his - Lily's eyes, Lily's eyes, and he could feel the life slipping away from him. And it didn't matter, because he was looking at Lily again.
Not Lily. It wasn't Lily looking at him with mixed emotions. It was Harry. Harry Potter.