One of the oldest sayings, often scoffed at and disregarded a clichéd, noted rather astutely that the eyes were windows to the soul. The original etymology of the saying may have been lost, but its components remained the same. When parents anxiously await the first time their child opens their eyes, they stare deeply into those windows and instantly know their children. Even as the colour of the eyes changes, as they grow and develop and begin to understand that perhaps the world isn't as beautiful as it is depicted in their bedtime stories, that glow behind the iris' despite the narrowing of the gaze and the suspicious undertone to their inquisitive glances, never changes.
For Severus Snape, his entire world began and ended with one pair of eyes. As a boy, and indeed even as an adult, Severus had never been handsome. His pasty skin looked gaunt against his dark hair and his black eyes looked sunken. For the little boy, there had never been any bright and cheerful glances; his gaze was always marred with distrust or disdain, until he met her.
He watched her at first, but never spoke to nor tried to approach her. She captivated him like no other, in his world of dark colours and pale contrasts he had almost forgotten what colour was, and when his dark eyes met endless green he would have sworn to whatever higher power that existed that he had never known colour before her. Where he was pale she was sun kissed, whilst his hair was black and lifeless hers was on fire with a spectrum of variants of red, and her eyes were like gleaming emeralds, full of life and laughter of happiness and joy, Severus' eyes were a solid unyielding black, it was impossible to tell what part of the colour was the iris and what was the pupil.
He had seen her perform magic and his heart leapt from his chest, he excitedly introduced himself, told her what they were and talked with her endlessly, never averting his gaze from those eyes. He was surprised how well he could understand her, and yet she always managed to amaze him. The compassion that emanated from the depths of green, even towards her older sister, whose common brown eyes glared and burned with jealousy, spat out insults and called her a freak, knew no bounds.
As they grew older and the time came for the both of them to go to Hogwarts Severus was presented with a startling emotion, one that he had not felt before. As that arrogant toerag James Potter smiled that obnoxious smug little grin of his and began to insult Severus to her, and declaring that even though she was a muggleborn and therefore not as important as the heir to the Potter family, he would be willing to look past that because she was 'pretty enough for a muggleborn' and that she would do better if she sat with him and his friends rather than the dirt-poor greasy-boy. For the first time in his life Severus Snape was ashamed, embarrassed and resigned to the fact that although he cared deeply for her, the arrogant boy was right in his observations.
James Potter never told anyone exactly how he had managed to receive a black eye and a split lip but never let it be said that the young redhead doesn't stands by her friends. When he looked back on their friendship, with the curse of hindsight, Severus realised that the moment her fist became acquainted with Potter's face was the start of his love for her. Never before had anyone defended him, his father was a swine and his mother had given up long ago, her only solace was a bottle of firewhiskey mixed with sleeping potions. But the subject of his adoration, whose green eyes seemed to bore into his soul, had defended him, protected him, and obviously cared enough about him to do so. His admiration overshadowed the tiny morsel of wounded masculine pride that ate away at him like a poison.
Throughout the years they became inseparable, despite the glorified feud between their houses the two remained friends, although it was often difficult for Severus, he received many a beating and stray curse for not only being a 'halfblood in the house of noble Slytherin' but for befriending a 'mudblood and a Gryffindor' he never told her about any of it. After the first spell approached her, he swore to himself that no matter what he would always protect her, and he stepped in front of the spell for her, it was a rather nasty cutting curse, bordering on dark magic and he was out of commission for the next two days whilst the matron in the hospital wing cleansed the wound and eventually managed to close the skin, it left a puckered scar that she told him regretfully, would never disappear. He was just glad that she was alright.
From that moment on Severus took to the dark arts like a duck to water, any cost to himself he considered a protection to her. She might not be able to defend herself against dark magic, but he would be damned before failing to protect her. He never told anyone about what he was doing, but somehow Potter and his cronies found out or at least speculated accurately and taunted him about it, calling him a murderer, and various other unimaginative and vindictive names. Severus was ashamed when she defended him, and claimed that Severus was too noble to do such a horrid thing as practicing the dark arts. It broke his heart that he wasn't who she thought he was.
When Severus came down with a rather nasty case of flu, one of the few illnesses magic had yet to find a cure for, she sat by his bedside, cooled his brow with a wet flannel smiled at him softly and passed him tissues when he asked, she brought him his homework, explained what he missed and therefore didn't understand, and brought him his favourite foods from the kitchens. The dreaded nickname 'Snivellus' originated when Potter swaggered into the hospital wing, ran his hands through his hair and asked the matron for bruise cream, the moment he saw them both, her caring for him while he was sick, Potter glared and began insulting him.
When she was angry those eyes were like simmering cauldrons but when she was furious her eyes burned brighter than fire and they appeared a deadly killing-curse green. He was amazed when she threw her books at Potter screaming at him and spitting out cuss words he hadn't known existed, before those eyes cooled to a warm glow, one that held affection and care. He had never known eyes so expressive.
After their third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry moving into the beginning of their fourth, everything became so much more complicated. The newspapers were riddled with articles about so-and-so who was found dead, confirmed that killing curses were used, that muggles were dropping dead of the same cause, there were rumours of people in dark cloaks and white masks terrorising people after dark, and a hideous mark that would be left in the sky over the body or residence of the murdered victim.
Severus wasn't stupid, although nobody in his house generally spoke to him; he wasn't deaf and neither was he blind. He saw the looks passing between certain students, how some would clutch their arms in pain and disappear for the night before sporting smug grins when they read the headlines the next day. He heard the whispers, the allusions to there being a new Dark Lord, and how he was recruiting.
Severus didn't tell her why he had suddenly taken his studies so seriously, he began spending less time with her, pouring his heart and soul into becoming the very best he could at the subject he adored; Potions. There were rumours, that if you became a valuable servant to this Lord then you were granted favours. Even if there was only the slightest chance that the rumour was true, Severus would take it. It hadn't escaped him how every death that occurred, every single body that was found was either a muggleborn or a muggle. If there was even one chance in a million that this Dark Lord granted favours to the valuable servants who followed him, then Severus would throw away any semblance of dignity and pride, he would go to hell and back and sell his soul if it meant that the only person whom he had ever cared for and the only person who had ever cared for him was protected.
Severus threw himself deeper into the dark arts, and learned how to brew the deadliest poisons and the most difficult potions, he scoured history texts searching for spells and potions that had been used in past conflicts and learned to make and reproduce those too. It wasn't long till he was approached by one of the Dark Lord's followers just as he had planned, and he was given a year to decide if he would join them or not. He was assured by that seventh year, Dolohov or some such, that the Dark Lord understood how important it was to study for OWLS, and would graciously allow him till the middle of the next school year, just when revision would start, to decide.
His goal achieved, Severus began spending a little more time with the girl he was now absolutely certain that he loved. She was a little resentful at first but eventually those eyes that tried so very hard to appear angry, lost the glistening hurt that was present before descending into compassion. She smiled at him and he could have sworn that his heart stopped. For that one moment he considered just letting her fend for herself, so he would never have to see that hurt look again, so that she would always smile that smile she seemed to reserve for him alone.
It pained him every time she praised him, every time she defended him and every time she swore he was a good man. His soul was tarnished, and he knew it. But everything, every curse, every racial slur that left his lips in the presence of the other 'initiates' and every horrific potion he brewed, it was all to ensure that when he became important enough, when he convinced them all that he was one of them, when he was respected and competent enough to be valuable to the Dark Lord, he would be able to use his one and only favour that the man was said to grant, to protect the girl who had quickly and without him even realising it, become the centre of his whole world.
She was constant. She was the sun that rose and set each day, she was the turn of the earth, the pull of gravity that kept him grounded and the fire in his heart that burned only for her. With every breath in his body he would never stop loving her, and would go to the ends of the earth to protect her.
The summer following their fourth year was dreadful. The Evans family were visiting relatives for two weeks, following which they were to spend the rest of the holiday in America for a 'much-deserved break' she was only to return on the 31st when she would purchase her new school things.
Severus was miserable. Upon returning home he had discovered that some months ago his mother had passed away, and his father hadn't bothered to inform him.
Tobias Snape was a drinker, a slob and a swine. The moment his then-girlfriend Eileen Prince had told him that she was a witch, he had initially been sickened and disgusted, but when she showed him the things that magic could do, his disgust gave way to greed. He devoured all the information she gave him, and he was delighted to discover that (to his understanding) the wizarding world worked much like the old aristocracy, the purebloods were the richest, Eileen was a pureblood (and therefore rich), and based on the social rules if she got pregnant, then the only way to save her 'reputation' was to marry the father of the child. Living in the muggle world meant that leaving potions and other magical items around was unthinkable, as such; Eileen had been taking muggle contraceptives. It wasn't hard for Tobias to tamper with them.
With all the qualities of a thief in the night, Tobias took the pills, peeled back the foil covering with great care, and replaced them with hay fever medication, the pills were the same size and colour and it was near impossible to tell the difference. It didn't take long for Eileen to fall pregnant, and after frantically worrying and sobbing, the muggle told her they would marry. It was a small service, completely unremarkable and unmemorable, until Tobias discovered that his now-wife wouldn't inherit a single Knut.
Tobias resented the boy more than he had ever resented Eileen, now she was gone the boy would be treated how he ought to have been from the start! He'd beat that nonsense out of him if he had to.
When Severus left Spinner's End he took with him only his trunk, his mother's books and bruises. He didn't bother waiting till the Evans' came back to go shopping, he didn't care anymore he petulantly told himself, as he caught the knight bus to Diagon Alley. He bought half of his supplies second hand, forking out the extra galleons only for new robes and potions supplies, before spending the last of his money on a room in the leaky cauldron for the remaining week. He didn't see her when she got her supplies, he couldn't. If she saw his bruised face she'd know right away what had happened and he couldn't risk such a blow to his only remaining pride. He didn't see her on the train either, she had probably been made a prefect, he thought with a smile. He fortunately didn't run into Potter or his goons.
The worst moment of his life, his greatest regret and his very worst memory was of the day that she left him forever. He had given his acceptance of the invitation to join Lord Voldemort, the monster finally had a name, and he had been branded like cattle, subjected to the cruciatus curse and all his hopes of becoming truly valuable slipped from his mind. He hadn't screamed once. Apparently being cursed five times without screaming earned the Dark Lords amused respect. It was six in the morning when the portkey he had been given took him to hogsmeade, he ran the entire way to the castle and managed to get ready and change before heading down to breakfast at seven, he hadn't slept a wink, his skin burning where he had been branded and his nerves so on fire he couldn't eat because his hands were shaking too much because of the after effects of the cruciatus.
At lunch he had decided to tell her everything, he couldn't stand it anymore. He had made so many mistakes, he had thought he would be able to handle it, to handle the torture the murders the racism but he couldn't. He loved her too much, he couldn't even think of spending another second in that man's presence! Then Potter ruined everything.
The marauders were sitting by his and her tree, when they saw him they stopped bothering her and began to taunt him, the four of them using separate spells to disarm, bind, and hoist him up into the air by his ankle. Then potter made some ridiculous prattle about him before declaring that he'd take off his trousers.
When she defended him and made Potter put him down, she handed him back his wand and offered to help him up. For the first time in their entire friendship, and his perusal of those brilliant eyes and their various emotions; he read her wrong. Where there was compassion he read judgement, where there was concern he had read amusement, and where there was love, he read disgust.
Six words. It only took six words for his world to crash around him. "I don't need your help, Mudblood!" he had spat. Clarity returned to his addled mind. His shot nerves set on fire when he saw tears start to form in those beautiful eyes, he could finally see clearly. It hadn't just been her eyes he had read. It was her soul. His words cut deeper than any knife ever could, his insults ran deep. Those beautiful emeralds descended into cold fury and devastation as she called him that hated nickname.
Their worlds separated, his sunrise and sunset became the monochrome world once again, the world was dull, and he had ties to no one but the Dark Lord. He had no prospects, no connections, and Voldemort was incredibly charming and charismatic when the occasion called for it. Soon Severus had almost managed to convince himself that he wasn't in love with her, and that he truly believed in the rhetoric Voldemort spouted. He leapt at the chance to excel at anything, even if all he could excel at was serving a madman. He told his 'master' the prophecy he had heard without thinking and his heart was crushed completely when Voldemort declared that the child it spoke of was Harry Potter, her son.
He ran as fast as he could as soon as he was dismissed. He fled to Dumbledore, he sobbed and cried and confessed what was to befall her and because of her son, the old headmaster was outraged and hissed how disgusted he was by the Death Eater before him, how could he condemn a child and his father to death to spare the mother? Severus cried and begged the man to save them all swearing to give anything in return.
When the Dark Lord fell, every Death Eater felt it. Their marks burned before fading into a feint outline of what was once a solid black and green tattoo. Severus entered the destroyed remains of the Potters cottage; he felt nothing when he saw James lying dead, wand in his hand and eyes glassy. The boy and Hagrid were long gone, that left only her.
He saw her lying there lifeless, and fell to his knees and wept, everything had been for her, all his plans were to protect her and all it had resulted in was her dying still hating him, he had never explained to her why he had done what he did. He had never told her that he loved her. He hugged her to his chest and whispered everything to her lifeless ears. His tears rolled down his pale cheeks and his sobs forced their way out of his chest. He whispered the three words he had never uttered aloud, even to his mother. And lay her down gently, closing her eyelids. He couldn't bare to look into those eyes, the colour still present the shape of the almond eyes the same, but the life was gone, along with her soul.
The years passed in a daze, he remembered the promise Dumbledore had wrangled out of him, to protect the Potter brat, and sneered at the thought. Potter had been the one to marry her, something Severus had dreamed of since they were eleven, Potter had a child with her, and the boy sat in his classroom anxiously writing notes looked just like James Potter.
It was only when the boy had met his eyes that his heart stopped. He read the hurt in those almond shaped emerald eyes, he could read the anger as the eyes turned killing-curse green, and he could even read the guilt of having upset his new teacher.
The boy may have looked like Potter, but his heart, his soul, and his mind, were all from Lily.
AN- This was inspired by the line "Her son lives. He has her eyes precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and colour of Lily Evans's eyes, I am sure?" I don't own anything; I just played around with the concepts and characters.