A laugh, clear as bells, sounds from across the hallway. I know who it is without even looking. After all, that laughter was what kept me sane in my childhood. Her laughter, always so perfect. Her sister had tried to stomp that happiness out of her, but I knew the truth long before any of them. She was special, like me. She wasn't a freak, she was a fairy.

She was what I thought about at night, when my mom cried out from my dad beating her and I cried silently in my room. I had believed that watching her was enough. Her vivaciousness, her spirit for everything in life. She was my hope. She was my light, in the darkness of my home and my life. I couldn't help myself from coming out of my hiding place that one day she floated down from the swings. Like an angel, I had thought.

She used to laugh with me, once upon a time, when we laid in the grass and watched the dragonflies flit across the water and I could almost forget that my dad was probably beating my mom. She was the one who would hold my hand, tell me in a fierce whisper that, "Sev, you're my friend." when her awful sister screeched about that strange boy with no friends. She believed in my goodness, even when I was sorted into Slytherin, even when I started becoming friends with Mulciber. Didn't she see I did it for her? I would become powerful enough to save her when the Dark Lord won. I did everything for her. She was my everything.

Now she was James Potter's everything too. I could see it in the way he looked at her, with wide adoration as she hit him on the shoulder in playful admonishment. He laughed too, a full, mirthful laugh that was as perfect as Potter's perfect life, and slung his arm around her. I felt it like a punch to my gut. I thought that it hurt when he bullied me. How wrong I was. Now that he was mature and responsible and not a bully, he had her. It was worse, a thousand times, over this way. He had a family that loved him, friends who would do anything for him, and now her. Seeing this, I can't help but wonder if some people are put on this earth to enjoy it, and some people are created just to suffer.

At Hogwarts graduation, he proposed, and I was there when she was rendered speechless at the sight of the ring, a beautiful diamond ring probably passed down in the Potter family, and she could only nod yes with tears in her eyes. It was a perfect proposal for a perfect girl from a perfect guy. It made me sick how amazing their lives were together. I read about the wedding in the papers, a fairytale wedding with her smiling widely enough to hurt. Remus Lupin, a bloody werewolf, clapped politely in the background. Sirius Black, who almost successfully murdered me once, grinned and hooted. And James Potter, born from a rich family, handsome and charismatic, gifted in Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Head Boy, got his perfect ending with the most perfect girl in the world.

I had hope at first when I heard of the prophecy. It was only the boy. She could live. After all, I was trusted amongst the Dark Lord's ranks. A potions master with a flair for the dark arts. If I asked for a personal favor, surely the Dark Lord would grant it. Still, I had to be sure. She was there when I was broken; she was my light in the darkness; she had saved me, and I would return the favor until the day I died.

"Severus, what will you give me in exchange?" Dumbledore says.

The answer rose unbidden to my lips, the truth behind it ringing loud and clear.

Anything.