This is set in the years following Lily's death and how Snape struggles with his loss every day. Please leave comments on how I can improve :)

I missed Lily. I really did. It had already been so long since she… I could't even bring myself to think that word. Time didn't dull the pain, it just intensified it.

I locked the dungeon door behind me with a flick of my wand and began to look at the essays that I had just collected from my students. Pathetic, I thought, flicking through them. Especially that Potter boy's, still 5 inches short of the required 3 feet. Just like his father, I thought savagely. Lazy and arrogant. Detention would teach him a lesson. I couldn't do anything to his father when we were students at hogwarts, but now I was a professor, and I could do everything in my power to take revenge on James potter in the form of that boy who most unfortunately was the spitting image of my mortal enemy. That was to be expected, I thought bitterly. After all, harry potter was his son, but then again, he could have been mine if not for James stealing Lily away from me. The cold damp darkness of the dungeon wrapped around me as I lazily flicked through the essays, giving that potter boy a "dreadful", of course.

The next morning, I swept into great hall, my dark cloak billowing around me, my face, like the way it had been for the past thirteen years, set in a dark scowl. Students scurried out of my way, their expressions fearful. After all, I was well known for putting students in detention for the most mundane reasons. I knew that they detested me, but what choice did they have? I was a professor, and they had to show me respect, however grudgingly.

Then I spotted the reincarnation of my enemy, the potter boy right in front of me, making his way to the great hall with his friends. Displeasure clouded my features as I recalled his dismal essay and the way his father had embarrassed me in front of the whole school so many years ago. That levicorpus spell, I thought, and my insides shrivelled with hate and embarrassment. "Potter!" I barked, causing him to stiffen and whip his head around at the sound of my voice. "Detention this afternoon, in my office. Your essay, as usual is…dismal. Even worse than the rest of your hopeless classmates," I sneered, relishing the look of outrage on his face. "But sir, I have quidditch practice this afternoon!" he burst out. " Do I look like I care?" I retorted, and continued the walk to my seat. But just before i took my eyes off his face, I saw a glint of anger and resentfulness in those eyes of his, her eyes. He had his mother's eyes. Lily's eyes had always glinted like that too, whenever she was upset with something. My heart gave a painful thump, but somehow, I managed to struggle to keep my face impassive.

It was all my fault she was gone, I thought, pouring pumpkin juice into my goblet absentmindedly. If only I hadn't told Voldemort that prophecy…how would I have known that he would have chosen to kill Lily's son, and not Neville, that inane useless boy in my class, I thought hatefully. What had made him so sure that the boy referred to in the prophecy who would bring his downfall would be Lily's son? No amount of persuasion could change Voldemort's mind, and even Dumbledore hadn't managed to protect her. Why did the Potters have to put their trust in the wrong person?" I wondered, staring off into space. If only they hadn't trusted that piece of vermin, who betrayed their hiding place, I thought.

Next to me, the loud rumbling laughter of that half-giant gamekeeper Hagrid pulled me out of the dark depths of my thoughts with a start. That loud vulgar oaf being give the post of care of magical creatures teacher post…just another example of the bad choices Dumbledore made, I thought and helped myself to a piece of toast.

Dumbledore, he had promised to keep Lily safe, after I had begged him that night. I hadn't begged anyone before, my sense of pride had always reminded me to keep a cold and stony appearance, as though nothing in the world could hurt me. But Lily, she was the exception. I would run through fire to save her, I thought. But this was different, the dark lord was ten times more dangerous than fire, and even Dumbledore couldn't protect her well enough after Voldemort had made up his mind.

That fateful night, I had followed him secretly to Godric's hollow. In my young, desperate mind, I had thought that somehow, maybe, just maybe, I would be able to prevent Lily's murder. But even then, I had known in my heart that if Voldemort wanted to kill her son, she would no doubt protect him to her death, and for someone as cruel and cold as Voldemort, the word "mercy" did not exist in his dictionary. He would kill anyone in his way.

When I had reached Godric's hollow, keeping a safe distance from Voldemort, I saw at once that the once cosy, beautiful house had been destroyed. Glass shards lay everywhere and the lights were out. A horrible eeriness penetrated the darkness. Even before I had put one foot inside the house, I knew it was too late. "Spare my son! Kill me instead!" Lily had begged, her voice, coming from the second floor window, shrill with fright. Oh no, not Lily, not her! I thought, my heart seized up with terror. I ran inside the house, tripping over something. Looking down, I had no idea how to react. I had tripped over the body of Lily's husband, no doubt killed with that horrible Avada Kedavra curse.

I stumbled up the stairs blindly. I had to see Lily, just one last time. I had to tell her I was sorry, sorry beyond what words could express. I had to beg for her forgiveness, even though I knew I was unworthy for it. The floor was covered with bits of wood, and that beautiful jar of crystal flowers I had given Lily for her wedding present lay in smithereens on the floorboards. The house that had been so perfect was now destroyed.

Just as I reached the top stair, I had seen a brilliant flash of green light shooting out of the room where the evil, bone-chilling laugh could be heard. "Oh you silly girl, you could have lived but you decided to give up your life in vain for that son of yours," The cold voice gloated. Lily's scream of terror along with the bright flash of light was forever etched in my mind. My heart felt like it was cracked right down the middle. But Lily was so young, not even twenty-five. And her son…what about her son….I had stood frozen to the spot on the upper stair. It was too late, everything was too late. Lily was…gone.

Another flash of green light accompanied by that terrible two words "Avada kedavra" echoed coldly around the room. I had expected to hear Voldemort's triumphant laughter a second later, but to my surprise, there was only the cry of her son and the almost inhumane shriek of pure agony from Voldemort. What had gone wrong? I wondered. But a moment later, I had finally regained the feeling in my legs and stumbled blindly to the room. Maybe I could revive Lily? Maybe, just maybe. I was good at potions after all. Maybe I could concoct something to bring her back…but it was just the desperate thoughts of a guilty, heartbroken man, for even wizards cannot be brought back from the dead.

I walked numbly through the tiny door where the horrible truth awaited me, dry racking sobs building up from my chest. I had spotted her almost instantly, lying among the debris of her furniture. Strangely, Voldemort was gone and her child was…alive. But I had no eyes for anyone but Lily. She had been so vibrant, so full of life. But now, her eyes lay open with shock. The glimmer of life, which had always been so noticeable in the them had went out. I had never cried before, I was the proud and guarded my heart carefully. Tears had always seemed a sign of weakness to me. But now, I didn't even care. My tears flowed freely down my face, and down Lily's hair, which still had that sweet subtle floral scent as I held her in my arms. How cruel, I thought, that the only chance I would have to hold my beloved in my arms was after the last breath of life had left her. My face twisted in anguish as I allowed myself to wail like a wounded dog. The tears which I had kept supressed within me for my whole life now came pouring out like a waterfall of emotions. Immense guilt at having told the prophecy to Voldemort, anger at whoever betrayed their hiding place, and of course, above all, heartbreak. The love of my life had died married to another man.

"Hey, yer all righ'? Staring off in ter space like that…" a humongous hairy palm was being waved in my face. I recoiled. Of course, it was that beast Hagrid. I glared at him and went back to my toast. And like everything since the day Lily was gone, it was cold, hard and tasteless.