Snape watched the first years' getting sorted with a mixture of boredom and loathing. He was going to be teaching these pathetic children Potions for the next seven years. How tedious. His eyes drifted over the line of children. They were pathetic, all of them.

"Potter, Harry!" Professor McGonagall called. Potter. Snape filled with white hot rage at the name of his old school enemy. He glowered at the small boy with scruffy, black hair who had just sat down on the stool. He was a spitting image of James Potter. He hated him. Snape hated his stupid glasses with hair that stuck up all over the place. Snape decided he was going to make his life a living hell.

"GRYFFINDOR!" The sorting hat cried after a while. Of course, Snape thought, how could the son of James Potter be in anything but Gryffindor? Just typical.

He watched with growing hate as the boy strutted over to the Gryffindor table with his pathetic Weasley friend. He watched as they all cheered. They were just so thrilled to have the Boy-Who-Lived in their pathetic house. They patted him on the back and praised him as if he were royalty. Of course, Potter did think he was royalty.

He didn't hate the Potter boy. No, he loathed him. Snape was going to give him such hell that he would wish he'd never been born.

That was until Potter looked straight at him. He stared at Snape with his bright green eyes. Her eyes. The eyes that Snape loved so much. Those brilliant green orbs that shone like the sun. The eyes that were his life, heart and soul. The eyes that had left him.

Snape softened a little. He couldn't bear to hurt her child. Of course, he still hated the boy, but the part of her that showed in him softened his cold, steely heart. The boy had her eyes. The eyes of the girl he loved so much. The eyes of the girl who had broken his heart into a million tiny pieces. The eyes of the girl he will always love. Lily.