Lily Evans, May, 1977
All you do is keep running.
He approaches you, you turn him down and walk away. He follows you to Hogsmeade, you walk faster. He sits next to you in class, you leave as soon as the bell sounds.
You know that one day he'll catch you.
"James Potter, GO AWAY!" You scream, your fists curled into tight balls.
He freezes, shock plastered to his face. You normally don't react to his baiting. This time, you've had enough.
"Merlin, James, you'd think you'd have realised by now that I'm NOT INTERESTED!" You scream again, before turning around and, like always, stalking away.
You go to the only person who understands you. You haven't talked in months, he's changed since that fight. But now, you have no one else to turn to. To everyone else, James Potter's perfect.
"Sev." You say, running into him outside the Slytherin Common Room.
He catches you as you collapse into him, he soothes you with his calm words. He doesn't ask questions, not yet. He just holds you.
"Mary, I'm fine." You say, brushing your friend's hand off your shoulder.
"No, you’re not." She replies bluntly, staring at you, concern in her eyes.
You glare back.
"I'm fine." You say, more forcefully, and start to walk away.
Always walking away.
"Lily, you didn't get back until four in the morning. Your eyes were all red. The last time anyone saw you yesterday, you screamed at James and stalked off. You're anything but fine." Mary says, and you stop walking, closing your eyes as your friend opens all those wounds up again.
"Mary, I don't want to talk about it. James is an idiot, Sev was comforting me. That's all there is." You reply, and you really do walk away this time.
You only just catch what she says as you leave the room.
"Maybe James isn't the bad one here, Lil. Have you ever thought that it might be Severus?"
You know that Mary doesn’t like Severus, none of your friends do. But, despite that, you can't help but let that thought grow in your head, no matter how biased it may be. All day, you wonder. Yes, Sev's been a good friend, but he's changed. He hangs around with a bad crowd. Could you ever really forgive him for saying what he did last year?
Maybe you’re the one who’s biased, blinded by your old friendship with Severus.
Blinded by your hatred of Potter. He used to be a prick, he used to deserve it. Did he still? Or was it all in your head?
Mary might be right, Potter would never say that. He's annoying, but he's not cruel. Your mind goes around and around in circles, always coming back to the same questions.
What does Severus Snape really want? Has James Potter changed, finally, for the better?
Your hand goes to the necklace hanging around your neck, a nervous habit. You fiddle with it, turning the pendant over and over in your hand.
In potions, you sit next to Severus like normal, as you have every day since first year. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch him as he cuts up his ingredients, his face screwed up in concentration. You watch through your hair as he sneaks glances at you with every stir of his potion.
Then you switch to watching Potter. He's being an idiot, as usual. But he doesn't look anywhere near as often as Sev does. When he does, he looks worried.
Concerned for you.
Sev, when he looks at you, looks greedy.
Your mind whirs.
There is only one solution. Avoid them both.
Until you're ready to ask Severus what he's really doing with Avery and Mulciber, if he's really sorry for calling you a Mudblood, you have to avoid him.
Avoiding Potter is a habit, whilst avoiding Sev is turning into a necessity.
When the common room gets too full, you move to the library to avoid Potter. When Sev enters the library, you head off to the Great Hall. When Potter wanders past looking for food with Black, you walk outside.
You sit there, under the beech tree, in the dying light. A light breeze rustles your pages, but you ignore it. Summer’s approaching, as are exams, you have to concentrate.
You have to study.
You have to ignore Potter, ignore Sev. Ignore everyone and run away, always running away.
You blatantly ignore the sounds of footsteps approaching. Only when he sits down, to you have to acknowledge him.
You look up, into the face of your childhood friend. Your fingers automatically go to the necklace, a present from him for your fifteenth birthday. A simple necklace, a gold chain with a lily pendant.
A lily for Lily, he’d said.
You remember that day, you remember the day he told you about magic. You remember when he was sorted into Slytherin, and you weren’t.
You remember when he called you a mudblood.
“Severus.” You say, your voice as cold as ice.
He sits down, pulling his knees to his chest.
“Lily, why are you avoiding me? I thought you understood that I was sorry about calling you-”
You cut off his meagre apology.
“That’s not it, Sev.” You say, the nickname rolling off your tongue without you meaning it.
“I...” You stall, unsure of what to say.
“Sev, why do you want to be my friend? Truthfully?” You ask, turning to face him in earnest.
He blushes. You watch as his cheeks redden, and your stomach sinks. Somehow, you knew, you knew all along that he wanted more.
And you don’t.
“I love you, Lily.” He says, staring at you.
You freeze. No one’s ever said that to you before. You want to get up, to run, to walk away like normal, but he grabs your arm. He leans forward, presses his lips to yours.
Now, you move.
You push him back and stand up. You barely register the fanatical look in his eye, or the hurt that quickly appears from your rejection.
You simply run away, far away.
Lily Potter, 3 August 1979
You look into his face, you say the words, and a ring slides onto your finger. You smile, he smiles back. You are happy.
You remember the day he proposed, with a bouqet of lilies, tied with a green ribbon to match your eyes.
You remember when he first asked you to Hogsmeade, how you thought he was disgusting, rude and utterly despicable, despite his fortune, his name, his looks, his popularity.
Somewhere along the line, that all changed. You stopped running from him, and stayed, listend to him. You love him now, you know that with all your heart.
Severus Snape, 31 October 1981
You stand in the middle of the street, looking at the wreckage of the house.
No one else has arrived yet. The Dark Lord has departed, his soul vanished, but the news of that miracle hasn’t spread yet. The news of the tradegy, the one you stare at, hasn’t spread either. It will, you have no doubt. They were both loved.
You stare at the house, willing yourself to leave, to not go in. You can’t help it. You can here the cries, the cries of her son, but you ignore them. You can’t bear to look at her baby, or her husband. He killed her, it was all his fault. If she’d chosen you, she’d be alive. She’d be with you. You didn’t mean for it to be like this. He’d promised he wouldn’t kill her.
You walk forward, past the place where the door used to stand. You walk up the stairs, ignoring Potter’s body in the front hall. You head towards the infant’s cries, but you don’t help him.
Dumbledore would do that, he would do anything for Potter’s son.
You stop in front of her. Tears prickle your eyes, no matter how much you try to stop them. She looks beautiful, even in death. Her eyes, her beautiful green eyes, stare up at you. A tear trickles down your cheek.
You never meant for this to happen. Not to Lily.
The necklace you gave her still hangs around her neck. You thought she would have removed it, like she’d removed you from her life, replaced you with Potter. Your thoughts turn violent at the thought of the man who stole your place. Of all people, why James Potter?
Quickly, you pull the necklace from her, and cradle it to your chest. You need something to remember her by.
You want to scream, you want to punish the Dark Lord for what he has done. You want the baby, her son, to disappear, to no longer remind the world of James’ Potter’s exist.
Most of all, you want her to be alive again.
Without her, you are nothing. A man mourning the loss of his high-school love, his best friend.
You turn to look at her son, his green eyes, so like hers, burning into yours. The scar on his forehead reminds you of the terrible thing that occured here, of the miracle that this boy accomplished.
You disappear from the house, disappear from her life for the last time. You will remember her, always.
Lily Evans, the girl you knew you wanted the day you saw her and her sister on the swing set.
The girl you befriended, the girl you watched become a woman.
The girl who hated you, yet kept wearing the lily necklace.
A lily for Lily.
A/N: my very first attempt at 2nd person narrative....I'm not really sure why I picked it, I blame Nargles.
And there is a link to ancient greek mythology in case anyone was wondering, I based this around the story of Syrinx and Pan.
Thank you for reading my Nargle-influenced oddball of a one-shot!