This was written in response to the second round of the HPFCF Drabble Fest.
Word Count: 198
OoOoO
If there was something worth celebrating, he didn't see it. Severus Snape had never been the kind to attend social gatherings: it wasn't in his nature – groups of people were difficult for him to deal with at the best of times, and the exaggerated cheer and overindulgence that were invariably a part of holidays only made them seem more ghastly.
He couldn't understand why the festival of Samhain had been eroded into a base, undignified excuse for children to gorge themselves. It was even less obvious to him why the entire wizarding community had misunderstood what had happened on that very holiday.
The boy who lived was toasted up and down the country – their infant saviour. The thought made Severus sneer; no doubt the child would develop an ego of similar proportions to that of his father. Once again, the majority missed the point.
The world had kept on going – thrived – even though his heart had frozen, and Severus was left wondering one thing:
What about the woman who died?
Brave, beautiful Lily had made the ultimate sacrifice for her son. Severus would honour her memory for the rest of his life – on every day of every year.
OoOoO
Thanks for reading. Please review.