Some people aren't fortunate enough to grow up in a home filled with love. Usually (although perhaps not always), this leaves its fair share of scars on them. If the people are of unusual talent, they usually channel it in terrible ways.

This was something Severus Snape had grown to know all too well.

Voldemort, born Tom Riddle, had not only been born from a loveless union, but grown up in an orphanage. A reasonably well-maintained orphanage, admittedly, but nevertheless not the best place for a child to grow up in. An orphanage's caretaker may be abe to provide kindness and perhaps even nurture, but love is something harder for a stranger to give to a child that isn't theirs.

He was probably one of the greatest, if not the single greatest, wizard that had ever lived. This was something impossible to deny, whether you were a Death Eater or one of their victims. Mayhaps if he had grown up under different circumstances, he could have been a great benefactor to society.

But this had never come to pass. Though he eventually became great and wise, Lord Voldemort's heart knew nothing of love or warmth. It only knew arrogance, cruelty, and fear of an ignominious death. And so he used this knowledge and power to oppress and belittle others. It's harder to give someone love when you've never had any yourself.

Snape himself was another example. He didn't know if his father had ever really loved his mother or not. If he did, he only ever saw proof to the contrary. He was pretty sure his father had never cared much for him either. If his mother did, she wasn't strong enough to protect either of them from his abuse. In that aspect, he supposed Tom Riddle might have fared better than him.

He supposed he would have probably ended up just like him at one point. Or more like him than he had eventually. They were both bitter, unpleasant, and unusually talented, both from witch parents and (terrible) muggle fathers. If Voldemort had never arisen, he might have become a Dark Lord himself.

So what exactly was so different between them both? He needed not much time to come up with an answer for that.

Lily. Little Lily Evans, the little red-haired girl who grew up in the same dodgy place he did, near Spinner's end. Little Lily Evans, the muggle born student who was probably a better witch than half of Hogwart's pureblood student body. Little Lily Evans, who was probably the only person he'd ever really loved.

He had met plenty of people he despised (notably, James Potter and his merry band of rapscallions), and a few people he found tolerable. But love, love was something he had nurtured for her and her alone.

Unfortunately, fate hadn't exactly been kind to him in that regard. For years they had been friends, and this was enough to give him some measure of happiness. Even if she didn't love him, at least she didn't hate him.

Too bad that didn't end as planned either. Before he'd realized it, he'd burnt that bridge, and he'd never been able to build it back up again.

So he did what he could.

He hated Harry Potter. Hated the fact that he was just like his father, hated the fact that they both had similarly unhappy childhoods but that this hadn't made him bitter, hated the fact that he was surrounded by love and companionship (things that had been largely denied to him). But most of all, he hated what his very existence represented: that Lily had loved another man. And not just any man, but the single man he had hated more than any other.

But he was still Lily's son, and it was his fault that she had died for him. So he would protect him, however grudgingly, and make sure that no harm came to him, even if his treatment of the boy would prevent him from appreciating it.

He thought it was fair enough. Life had certainly dealt him a terrible hand, but he'd made his share of bad moves as well. There was no going back now. He would continue his path of redemption, even if it amounted to little more than unsung heroism.

He supposed he just loved her too much for this bother him.

As long as he was able to meet her beyond the veil and tell her he had done everything to amend for his misdeeds, nothing else mattered.