She has seen the memory. Countless times.
Harry did not want anything to do with the vial of painful silver wisps after the war. They reminded him of the things he'd rather forget, he said. So she offered to be a safekeeper.
He gave them to her, never suspecting that she could have some intentions other than what he knew of, for wanting it. She keeps it on her nightstand, to glance at, first thing in the morning, when her eyes open. A reminder of the man who she should have saved, a reminder of her failure.
That way, she tells herself, she will never repeat the same mistake again. For anyone, who might deserve a second chance. Not that his was a second chance in her eyes. She had always believed, with at least a small part of herself, that he was truly on the their side of the war. After all, Dumbledore trusted him, despite knowing of all, if not most of his suspicious activities, then why shouldn't she?
But the headmaster's faith was not the reason her faith in him grew over time. Perhaps something in her had drawn her to him, a poor, friendless wizard, someone who always looked like his heart was being wrenched from the inside, but yet was unable to scream out loud.
He was cold when she first approached him, but over time, she wore him down a little. The man wore so many masks that this was hardly any progress. But she had enough perseverence to form some semblance of a friendship with him.
She never should have let herself fall for him. She never should have opened herself and her secrets to him. She never should have let her confused feelings come in the way of their friendship. She never should have let doubt creep in about the true reason as to why he killed the Headmaster. She never should have walked away from him. She never should have let him walk into the Shack, knowing what was waiting for him.
She never should have stopped herself from saying the three fated words to him.
It is a long list of regrets, and she makes sure she never forgets even one of them.
But on a good day, she lets herself delve into the stone penseive of his memories, and look through the set of images that reassure her that he might indeed be happier now.
After all this time?
Always.
She could never be Lily Potter, after all.
Notes: This could be valid for a lot of witches, but I had Aurora Sinistra in mind while writing it.