A/N: Just something that popped into my mind recently, hope you like it. The world of Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling.
The roar of chattering voices filled the air. Hundreds upon hundreds of voices, layered on top of each other. It was the evening of September 1st, and Hogwarts was soon going to be filled with the bustle of thousands of students. It was the same routine, starting in August when the staff is required to arrive, to September when the students arrive, all the way to May when the exams were and we could say goodbye to the brats until next September.
That's all my life is now, just a routine. It's been the same since that Halloween when Lily had… No I couldn't think about that. It always hurt too much and I'd end up crying. That was one thing I could never do in front of anyone. There were only ever two people that I'd ever been able to in front of. One was here in this room, sitting a few seats away from me. And the other, I'd lost her when I was sixteen; all because of one stupid mistake, one wrong word, and all because of Him.
Someone poked my side, snapping me out of my dark thoughts as I suppressed a surprised jump. I turned quickly, who dared to touch me? Anger boiled under my skin, like it always did when I thought of Him.
"What?" I snapped at the teacher. It was the new one, the DADA teacher, the one that had stole my spot – again. I didn't even bother to learn their names anymore; through some mishap or another, he'd be gone by this time next year.
The man recoiled from me like I was a snake. Well I guess it makes sense, I am the head of Slytherin after all. "I- I- w-was wond-d-d-dering if you- you'd explain h-how the h-houses are sor-sorted." He stammered in alarm.
I idly wondered if he was stammering because of the response he'd gotten from me. No, I decided, this man – Quibble, wasn't it? – had a look about him, one I'd learned to read rather well. He was a true coward, he probably stammered even when he was normally talking.
"You're from Durmstrang, Right?" I asked suspiciously. The man gave some sort of head jerk that I assume is a nod. "Well, you'll just have to watch and learn, now won't you?" I said testily, an edge of danger in my voice.
I ignored the man's response and turned again to the now nearly-full hall. The last stragglers were still coming in from the carriages. And at the Gryffindor table sat a redheaded witch surrounded by a small group of girls. She had the same hair color as Lily.
I closed my eyes, suppressing a frustrated growl. It's been just shy of ten years since that day and I still couldn't get Lily out of my head, although I didn't know why I was thinking of her so much tonight. Maybe it was because it was now twenty years since we'd gone through the same September routine; except on the student's side of things, not the teacher's.
I heard the Great Hall doors open, accompanied by the murmuring and gasps from the new first years. I reluctantly opened my eyes to watch.
And immediately wished I hadn't. Because standing there, amongst the others was him, well at least his reincarnation. The bane of my life since I'd first met him twenty years ago. What had started as a simple dislike had turned to full on hatred as he'd started to steal Lily away from him. James Potter, my life-long enemy.
The boy glanced up at the staff table as he walked and, for just a millisecond, our gazes met.
My very blood went cold as I registered one thing: instead of the brown eyes I'd been expecting, the boy had bright, emerald green eyes – Lily's eyes.
Thousands of memories ran through my mind's eye. I was six and Lily had smiled at me from across the classroom; I was nine and Lily was listening to me explain about dementors; I was thirteen and Lily was laughing at some long-forgotten joke. All of the good times we'd shared, all the laughs, the smiles, the private jokes between us.
That meant… this was LILY'S son? This was the 'Boy-Who-Lived'? This was the world's 'savior' the 'great' Harry Potter? Just like his father, I sneered to myself.
I knew that the boy had gotten Lily's eyes, and, well, I never stopped to wonder who the boy looked like. I was glad that Lily's eyes hadn't been lost, that her son had inherited them. And yet, not I wished that Harry had never gotten his mother's eyes. For now, every time that I looked at the boy, I'd see them; Lily and James Potter.
From now on, I'd see Lily's eyes in Potter's face.
Just another reminder of what I'd lost. Just one more thing added to the things that torcher me on a daily basis.
All because of one mistake, one unforgiveable word.
Why me?
Hoped you liked it. Please review. :)
-LEF