Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I owned Harry Potter, Snape wouldn't have died. Neither would Sirius. Or Fred. Or in fact, any of the good guys. If I owned Harry Potter, it would have been utterly idealised, no one good would have died. I don't, it wasn't, and they did.

All He Sees

Severus Snape never sees Harry Potter.

He knows him, of course, knows him for seven years and knows of him for eleven before that. But he never sees him. Never sees the boy, rangy and eager and bright-eyed.

All he ever sees is James Potter.

All he sees is the hair and the glasses, the face and the body. Potter. In child form. Back in Hogwarts. Back to taunt him. All he sees is (goddamn) Potter. A thousand child humiliations at his hands.

Potter with Lily's eyes. Reminding him constantly that Potter, Potter, had been the one to win her, that she had deemed Potter more worthy than him. Lily's eyes in Potter's face. Potter mocking him even from beyond the grave.

All he sees is the father, never the son.

And then, finally, just for the last few moments, he looks past Potter's face, and Potter's hair and Potter's glasses, and sees Lily's eyes. He looks, in his last dying image, and sees Lily.

Through this boy, he has always seen the parents.

But he has never seen the boy.

Severus Snape never saw Harry Potter.