Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, I am merely borrowing her creations. I own nothing. At points in the story I may phrase things in ways that are similar to or the same as parts of the Harry Potter books and movies, I do not own that either.
Her Eyes
The night was black. The deserted streets still seemed to carry echoes of the laughter of Trick-or-Treators from a few hours earlier. But to Severus, their laughter was empty, nothing more than hollow sounds that mocked him. He remembered her laughter, her smile like sunshine. Her eyes. They were green, and bright, and full of a life that she would never have a chance to live. Her eyes were empty now. His life was empty. Everything was empty. How could anybody laugh when she was no longer there? Lily. He would like to think of her as his Lily, but she wasn't. He had grown to accept that, accept that she had chosen to build a happy life with Potter. After all, James had everything one could want in a husband. He was selfless, loyal, handsome, he could ride a broom… on another day, Severus might have smiled bitterly at the thought of the Quidditch hero who was so full of himself. But tonight Severus was devoid of smiles, devoid of bitterness. He'd thought that he lost Lily the day that he'd spoken that forbidden word. He could almost taste the sourness of the word in his mouth, touch it with the tip of his tongue, trace it with his lips. Mudblood. He hadn't said it since. But now Severus knew that he hadn't really lost her then, in his fifth year. He had not lost the moments when he looked at her across the many heads of students filling the Great Hall. He hadn't lost the moments when she was bent over a cauldron in potions class, the strands of hair that tumbled over her shoulder curling slightly in the steam rising from the potion she was brewing. He hadn't truly lost her until tonight. He would never again see Lily Evan's eyes sparkle with anger or glow with joy or twinkle with merriment. She was gone.
But the night was growing cold, so Severus pulled his cloak tighter around his body, and squinted up into the glare of the streetlight, looking for the street sign. There it was - Privet Drive. Severus couldn't help but roll his eyes at the large houses one after another, all alike. Leave it to Petunia to pick such a common neighborhood. There was no mistaking that Muggles lived here. He looked up and down the street, searching for the house number, but it was unnecessary. He could plainly see the small bundle on the front steps of one of the houses, and Snape strode towards it, his cloak billowing out behind him and whipping back in the wind. He leaned over the bundle, looking down at Harry Potter. The little boy was sleeping, his chubby little hand curving over a letter. Snape gritted his teeth at how wretchedly naïve Dumbledore could be; no matter how many times Severus had insisted that Petunia would loath having to take in the Potter brat, Dumbledore stood resolute.
The boy's black hair stuck up messily at the back of his head, and the lightening scar was partially obscured by a tuft of hair. Even as a baby, this was clearly Potter's progeny. Could Lily not have imparted one feature to her child? Must the child be all James? Severus's hands clenched into two tight fists, the cords in his wrists standing out, and he whirled around to leave. He should have known that coming here would do no good. What comfort could possibly be found here, with this living testament of that fact that Lily had chosen James over him? Two paces from the front door, however, Severus froze as he heard the child making soft sounds as he slept, gentle gurgling noises. Snape turned back in time to see little Harry's long eyelashes flutter, and then open. Without thought, Snape found himself kneeling on the front steps of a stranger's house, bent over Harry Potter and gazing rapturously into his eyes. Her eyes. Lily Evans's beautiful, green eyes were looking wonderingly up at him. A terrible and exquisite pain that was part wonderful joy and part excruciating loss filled Snape's chest as he looked deep into those treasured eyes that he thought he would never see again. In that moment, it did not matter that there was a prophecy sentencing this innocent boy to a dangerous future. It did not matter that Voldemort was gone. It did not matter that wizards and witches the world over exulted in the triumph of the famous Boy Who Lived. To Severus, there was no Boy Who Lived. There was only a boy with Lily's eyes, a boy that Severus would protect at all cost.
A/N: This is only my second fanfiction. I hope you like it. The idea for this came to me randomly, so I wrote it without any specific plan for it. For now it's just a one-shot, but later I might continue it - I'm not sure yet. Either way, thanks for reading, and please review!