Title: First Sight
Summary: Severus Snape's POV of his seeing Harry for the first time in PS. DH spoilers
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I wish I did after that ending though.
I stormed into the Great Hall, dreading the arrival of the year's mass of dunder…I mean, students. None of my co-workers had seemed surprised that I was in a foul mood – I always was and that year was no different. However, my own emotions were very different to what I allowed the world to see.
That was the year. It was when I would first see the child of the woman I loved. Albus had told me years before that he had her eyes, almond-shaped and vivid green. I longed to see them again, shining and giving her face life. But it wouldn't be her. It would be more of Him, James Potter, than of her. I shook away thoughts of the man who had plagued my youth.
I sat next to Minerva McGonagall and ignored her as she babbled on about how great it was going to be to finally meet the son of the Potters and how Hagrid had told her how nice he was and…
The doors to the Great Hall opened, and students started pouring into the room, chattering about their summers, friends, family, gossip from the train. Stupid children! Had they not realised what an important event that year's feast would be?
The incessant noise had gone on for what seemed like hours when Minerva got up to escort the first years to the Great Hall for their Sorting. That was it. The first time I would see her son – her eyes, her beautiful eyes portraying every emotion: happiness, love, hatred, fear, betrayal –
I stopped that train of thought quickly as I remembered the look on her face as I called her a Mudblood. That day had haunted me, as much as telling the Dark Lord what I had heard of the prophecy, as much as working out that it was about her child, and as much as finding out that she was dead.
The door to the Great Hall opened once more and the small first years walked into the room, staring at the number of people and the ceiling and whatever else it was that had captivated them.
It was then that I saw him. He looked so much like his father that I could not help but feel hatred towards the child. He then looked up at the staff table and I almost dropped my jaw. Albus had been right, he did have her eyes.
It was then that I realised that I would never truly hate him. Not like I had hated his father. For I could never genuinely hate something that had a piece of her. And he had her eyes. Her sparkling eyes.