The first thing you noticed about Lily was her hair. Long, dark red hair, always blowing about and getting in her eyes. Gorgeous, soft hair - or so I assumed. Much as I longed to, I never dared to touch it.
If you got past her hair, then, perhaps, you'd see her eyes. Eyes so green you could pluck them out and wear them as emeralds. Almond shaped, and gently slanting.
Witch's eyes. And Lily was a very skilled witch. Better at potions than Snape - oh, how I loved to watch those pale, slender hands at work. Possibly even better at transfiguration than James and Sirius. But Lily's true magic was with charms.
She always claimed, it was just she had a wand that was good for such work. But I believe that wands are designed to match their owner's strengths, and so Lily's wand was good for charm work, because she was good at charm work. Not just good - brilliant at it, a natural. And she certainly had no lack of natural charm.
I wasn't the only one, lord no, to fall for that charm. Sirius, Remus - even Snape had a crush on her! But none of us stood a chance. She only ever had eyes for James. And so we all gave up. There was no way any one of us could compete with James in her heart. Especially not me.
But still, we didn't hold it against him. We couldn't - he was our friend.
Okay, maybe Snape held it against him.
Lily and James were in love. It was as simple as that. We had no doubt of their eventually marriage, that they'd grow old together, with millions of Potter children running about Godric Hollow, creating as much trouble as all us Marauders put together.
I wonder when wistful acceptance changed to jealousy.
I got so jealous of James it made me sick, literally sick. And I hated myself for it. James may have had the girl, the woman I loved - but she loved him back. They were perfect for each other. They were in love. How could I begrudge him that, her that? She was made for better things than me. He was the better thing.
That was all there was to it.
Yet it wasn't all I'd let it be.
Oh, I acted the same, the same cheerful, clumsy Gryffindor boy. (I didn't deserve Gryffindor.) I wonder if any of them guessed, that something had changed. My Lord saw. He wanted a way to get at precious James Potter, and I was that way. I was close to James, so close, but miles away. When He asked, how could I refuse? A chance to get back at James for taking Lily, my Lily. It was perfect. The pain from serving Voldemort was far less than the pain of a friend once best having the girl I loved.
I convinced myself - with a fair amount of help from my Lord - that it was what James deserved, for being so perfect, for having Lily. When the time came, I gave away his hiding spot easily. Oh Sirius, your folly would lose your friend his life. Poor, poor Sirius.
But I dared only give it to my Lord on one condition. One single condition. I asked him to promise me something. He was desperate - he promised. For once, I was in power, I had something he wanted.
Oh course, he could have tortured me, and he regularly did, but I swore not to tell unless he promised not to hurt Lily.
I wonder why he simply didn't use Veritaserum - Snape would have prepared it eagerly enough - but he promised.
He promised to spare my Lily.
He broke his promise.
And I wonder now, why I am running back to him. And I know what the answer is.
I sold any other option when I sold away James Potter's life, sold his life for a broken promise.
I am running back to him because I have no where else to go.
If you got past her hair, then, perhaps, you'd see her eyes. Eyes so green you could pluck them out and wear them as emeralds. Almond shaped, and gently slanting.
Witch's eyes. And Lily was a very skilled witch. Better at potions than Snape - oh, how I loved to watch those pale, slender hands at work. Possibly even better at transfiguration than James and Sirius. But Lily's true magic was with charms.
She always claimed, it was just she had a wand that was good for such work. But I believe that wands are designed to match their owner's strengths, and so Lily's wand was good for charm work, because she was good at charm work. Not just good - brilliant at it, a natural. And she certainly had no lack of natural charm.
I wasn't the only one, lord no, to fall for that charm. Sirius, Remus - even Snape had a crush on her! But none of us stood a chance. She only ever had eyes for James. And so we all gave up. There was no way any one of us could compete with James in her heart. Especially not me.
But still, we didn't hold it against him. We couldn't - he was our friend.
Okay, maybe Snape held it against him.
Lily and James were in love. It was as simple as that. We had no doubt of their eventually marriage, that they'd grow old together, with millions of Potter children running about Godric Hollow, creating as much trouble as all us Marauders put together.
I wonder when wistful acceptance changed to jealousy.
I got so jealous of James it made me sick, literally sick. And I hated myself for it. James may have had the girl, the woman I loved - but she loved him back. They were perfect for each other. They were in love. How could I begrudge him that, her that? She was made for better things than me. He was the better thing.
That was all there was to it.
Yet it wasn't all I'd let it be.
Oh, I acted the same, the same cheerful, clumsy Gryffindor boy. (I didn't deserve Gryffindor.) I wonder if any of them guessed, that something had changed. My Lord saw. He wanted a way to get at precious James Potter, and I was that way. I was close to James, so close, but miles away. When He asked, how could I refuse? A chance to get back at James for taking Lily, my Lily. It was perfect. The pain from serving Voldemort was far less than the pain of a friend once best having the girl I loved.
I convinced myself - with a fair amount of help from my Lord - that it was what James deserved, for being so perfect, for having Lily. When the time came, I gave away his hiding spot easily. Oh Sirius, your folly would lose your friend his life. Poor, poor Sirius.
But I dared only give it to my Lord on one condition. One single condition. I asked him to promise me something. He was desperate - he promised. For once, I was in power, I had something he wanted.
Oh course, he could have tortured me, and he regularly did, but I swore not to tell unless he promised not to hurt Lily.
I wonder why he simply didn't use Veritaserum - Snape would have prepared it eagerly enough - but he promised.
He promised to spare my Lily.
He broke his promise.
And I wonder now, why I am running back to him. And I know what the answer is.
I sold any other option when I sold away James Potter's life, sold his life for a broken promise.
I am running back to him because I have no where else to go.