A/N: I'm grateful for any reviews you might be willing to provide for this, my first one-shot. If you think I can improve it somehow, do tell! Thank you.

The light was in her eyes that day.

She opened them wide, rebelling against the sun, feeling her retinas burn as she stared into the lens of a camera. Familiar lips found her cheek, and her smile grew wider, turned into a laugh. Her mouth formed words - I love you - caught with film that would preserve them forever. The petals, enchanted to fall over their heads, peppered the meringue of her dress, but she was too happy to notice, or to care. She tucked a strand of her hair - red, like fire - behind her ear. It always seemed to get free, he knew. He knew her by heart.

"James!" someone called., and the dark figure watching the pair snapped to attention, following the gruff shout to a one Mr. Sirius Black. His jaw clenched. James looking up, tearing his eyes away from the girl before he bounded off, the young blonde photographer followed after him, leaving his lover alone. She sighed, seemingly dizzy with happiness. Taking a few steps back, she fell on to the bench, sweeping her dress up around her. She trained her eyes - a dark green - on the man in the distance. Very suddenly, a shadow fell across her, blocking her light and making her jump. She frowned, looking up, wondering how she had not heard the gravel crunch beneath the stranger's feet. It was only after a few moments of trying to make out the face, light shining behind him, making it hard to distinguish his features, until, with surprise, she realised it was not a stranger who stood over her. Her eyes narrowed, brow creasing.

"You better not let him see you here. He'll kill you."

Severus nodded, and, as if he had not heard her words, sat down without even glancing at the men talking animatedly in the distance. For a few moments they sat in silence, until he finally spoke up, his voice low.

"You look beautiful," he told her, eyes still focused on the forest in front of him that he had just emerged from.

"Oh Severus…" the girl sighed.

Severus winced; she had never called him anything but 'Sev', not since he first met her - that fateful day in the playground. He had watched them for months, she and her intolerable sister, Petunia, waiting for the opportune moment to approach them. She was a mudblood, he knew that from the start, but nothing could stop him wanting to see her, speak to her, be close to her. His stomach dropped.

"You shouldn't have come," she said, looking anxiously towards James Potter.

"Did you not want me to come?"

It was out of his mouth before he could swallow the question, and he held his breath, waiting for the answer.

"No," she replied bluntly, voice slightly unsteady.

The wizard took a sharp intake of breath, almost swallowing his own tongue at her answer. Something in the pit of his stomach started to eat away at him, a pained, hollow feeling that seemed to grow like a cancer inside of him as she carried on.

"I wished you hadn't, but I knew you would." She looked up at him, making eye contact. "I knew you wouldn't be able to keep away."

"What's that meant to mean?"

"It means, Severus, that you always seem to turn up just when I think I've shaken you off."

"You make me sound like an infection," he said dryly.

"Why did you come?" she asked, ignoring his last comment. "Surely you have some sense of shame, to turn up, uninvited to a wedding? Or are you a complete sociopath?"

Severus shifted in his seat, unusually uncomfortable. It was only she who was able to make him feel quite so inadequate, and he glanced across to James, still in deep conversation.

"You're too good for him, Lily."

Lily started to laugh quietly to herself, a humorous laugh that ended as abruptly as it had started.

"Everybody is too good for me, according to you," she spat, scowling at him.

"Maybe you're just no good at picking the right people."

"Oh! Oh, that's rich coming from you - I'm not with a load of Death Eaters who think the Cruciatus curse is a bit of fun."

"I'd hardly call Potter an angel," Severus replied, looking down at who was once his friend.

"Listen, Severus," Lily cut in, anger rising in her voice. "You can't control my life, you know? You can't tell me what I'm doing wrong, or who I should be with -- you lost that right the day by the river."

"I didn't mean to say it! I didn't mean it at all!" Severus told her, coming close to pleading.

"Severus, I know what I am. I'm Muggleborn, and I'm really not sure how you even tolerated being near me, let alone for all those years…"

Lily looked at him, expected him to snap back, but he sat there silently, black eyes out of focus. After a moment, she made a move to get up.

"Wait," he told her, grabbing her arm. She looked down at it, and he released her quickly. "Lily, please. You don't understand."

"What don't I understand, Severus?" Her voice cracked, and he saw tears in her eyes. "What is it I don't know?"

"That…" he hesitated for a moment, swallowing. "That I love you."

Lily's eyes widened, letting the tears spill down her cheek, making tracks in her wedding make up. She shook her head and put her face close to his.

"No," she said. "That's not fair, Severus. That's not fair at all…you can't come here, on my wedding day, and tell me that. You just can't!"

Lily got up, wiping the tears away with the back of her hand before turning to face him again. When she did, she saw that he too had risen. He looked at her for a few long moments, eyes piercing into her, as if he was reading her like a book. Slowly, he reached forward, tentatively taking the stray piece of red hair and tucking it back behind her ear. She did not object, just held her breath as he did so.

"It's too late," she whispered, seeing the pleading look in his eyes.

She turned to leave, but he stopped her, whispering something barely audible.

"Have you ever…have you ever loved me?" Severus asked, searching in her eyes for the truth. He had never asked anyone such questions before, but he needed to know. He waited, anxiety clenching his stomach.

A silence seemed to last forever as she seemed to consider the question, his cancerous dread filling him up. Slowly, he saw her face change as she came to a decision, and she began to nod, two curt drops of her neck. She wiped the new tears that had formed away.

"Oh…" he whispered, surprised by the answer. He brushed back his ever-greasy hair with his fingers, unsure what to say. "Oh…" he repeated, searching for the words he needed.

"But I love James now. I haven't loved you since that day, Sev, I'm sorry," Lily sighed, touching his arm. He would have smiled at the fact she had reverted back to his nickname if her words did not sting him so badly.

"And if I had told you before then?"

"Then I would have loved you as I do him," she said, looking towards her husband. "Perhaps more. You helped me a lot as a kid, you know? Without you, I would have felt so alone at Hogwarts."

He pulled his thin lips into a smile, though it was evidently forced. Tears were starting to form in his eyes too, and he blinked them back. He had not cried for years, and he didn't intend to start doing so now. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling pain in his heart that seemed to tear him apart as he realised what could have been. Scenes played out behind his eyelids until he could stand it no longer, and they snapped open again. Lily was still looking at him, eyes taking in every detail of his face. She looked over at James, and then back at Severus.

"You should go," she whispered.

Severus nodded slowly, chin wrinkling as he strained to keep his emotions back. She leaned forward suddenly, and he felt her lips on her cheek. When she pulled back, he saw a sad smile on her face.

"Goodbye, Sev."

Severus licked his lips, and, eyes lingering on her face, turned. With a crack, Severus Snape had disappeared into thin air.

"What was that, Lily?" James' voice came from behind her. Obviously he had heard Severus noisy apparition.

His wife jumped, and he gave a laugh.

"Oh - nothing. Just a house elf from - came to tell me the wedding feast was ready," she lied, wiping her cheeks.

"Have you been crying?" he frowned, eyes holding a hint of suspicion.

"No, no, just got something in my eye."

He seemed to not believe her for a moment, before he nodded, pulling his new wife into a kiss.

"Come on, we better head inside."

Lily nodded, biting her lip as James took hold of her arm and began to lead her away from the bench. As they reached the doorway, she looked back, half expecting to see a pair of dark eyes staring back at her.

***

There was no sun that day.

A light drizzle dampening the strong smelling soil as he brushed his hair back, trees protecting him from the rain. The photographer snapped away, and he narrowed his eyes; was he the same one? His blonde hair, his pinched face behind the lens all seemed similar. Severus guessed this would be ending up on the front page of the Prophet.

"Dumbledore!" someone called, causing the headmaster of Hogwarts, his hair already whitening, to back away from the two ditches that he had been standing at the edge of. A man, his face pointed and ratty, stood a good foot smaller than the rest of the congregation. He raked a claw-like hand through his mossy hair. "Dumbledore, sir, I think - I think-" Severus could hear him stammering, and his nostrils flared in frustration. "I think I might be in grave danger…from, well, Sirius Black."

There was a stirring around him from all who heard - the small man obviously had no idea how to control his own volume. Severus stepped a little closer, making sure the trees still shielded him, trying to hear the white-haired man's speech.

"…this is no time to…the Ministry…come to my office later, Peter…" was all he could make out.

Somewhere in the distance came the sound even Severus recognised as Marche Funèbre, the deep sound of an organ in minor key sending the wizards and Muggles - a sea of black that only Dumbledore, in a deep plum cloak that stood out against the dull rest. Three women stood in the cornet, clutching each other, shoulders shaking. Severus couldn't see their faces under their feathered fascinators. The next moment, out of a great stone building, twelve men walked out, all looking sombre, and Severus and the other hundred or so eyes turned to them.

"Oh my Lily…" one of the women cried out.

Severus stood, stone-faced and eyes void of expression as he gritted his teeth. He sucked in his stomach, as if it were the only thing that stopped him from throwing up. Goosebumps became visible on his sallow skin, cheeks looking more hollow than usual. His chin gave a slight quiver before he pulled back control as he watched two boxes be carried to the holes in the ground.

Graves. Her grave. Next to it, her husband's grave. It should have been his grave, he wished it were his. He watched as the only person he ever loved was lowered in her wooden prison into the muddy squares six foot deep.

Something stirred in his stomach, something similar to regret, he might have thought.

It was his fault.