A/N: This is a ONE-SHOT. I own none of the characters, nor Hogwarts (as sad as that may be). Anyway, do enjoy!
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It was that day again: October 31st. All around him, Severus could hear the shrieks of glee, the joyous trickery occurring about the halls of Hogwarts.
Didn't they understand it was a day of mourning? Severus thought wildly.
No, of course they didn't. They were blissfully unaware of the travesties that had occurred 12 years ago. Even her precious son was frolicking about, participating wholeheartedly in the trivial festivities of the Halloween holidays.
He had never known her. He couldn't mourn what he'd never known. Severus grimaced, unwilling to succumb to the voice of reason ringing through his head. He knew Lily would be sitting there now, scolding him, reminding him of the logic he refused to heed.
But, no. She wouldn't be there. She was dead. She had died this day, years ago.
Severus walked the length of the corridor, passing a group of 4th year girls giggling in a clump in the corner. "Quiet!" he barked at them. They were startled enough to shuffle off, no doubt grumbling in disdain about him.
Lily wouldn't have liked that either. Damn it all. He growled in anger at a nearby portrait chattering madly. Pulling open a nearby door, Severus disappeared into the confines of his own living quarters.
No one would bother him here. No one went into his rooms. No one wanted to see him…
He remembered her, clear as the day; her eyes sparkling, her laughter ringing like that of a bell. His chest ached with longing. His throat constricted and his eyes burned. He would not cry. He could not cry. He was not weak. He was not susceptible to the mindless emotional anomalies of the common man. But, even as he attempted to keep hold of his stoic façade, Severus fet the tears come. They cascaded down his face with each reminder of Lily.
No matter how much she had hurt him, no matter what she had said or done, she had not deserved what he had set into motion. He realized that he had not been the one to cast the spell. That was the Dark Lord. But, no matter how many times Dumbledore attempted to relieve him of his guilt, Severus could not help but know that it was he who had set the Dark Lord onto Lily. Pettigrew was a pawn. He had allowed the plan to occur. But it was he, Severus, who had overheard the prophecy. It was he who had told the Dark Lord of the threat in Harry's growing up. It had been Severus who had caused Lily's death, Severus who had set the wrath of one of the most deadly wizards upon her. Severus was to blame and every day, it killed more and more of him.
He slumped into an armchair, running his hands over his face. It was exhausting: to feel so much grief, to feel so much rage, to know so much pain and not to show any of it.
He hated it.
The light of the afternoon began to sink, lowering down the length of his draped windows. The pale green of his curtains cast an ominous glow about the room. It was a sorry sort of sight, his rooms. While the place itself was beautiful with tapestries of green and silver silks and velvets, he knew the place was a lonely sight. The whole place was unlived-in. He, being the workaholic that he was, never spent any time here.
As the sun light began to slowly sink beneath the line of his window panes, Severus knew he was wanted at the feast. Dumbledore would undoubtedly send for him soon. The house elves were more familiar with his rooms than he, having spent so much time cleaning, refurbishing and fetching Severus.
Grudgingly, he got up from the chair and walked over to the door. The latch swung open to reveal one Minerva McGonagall, hand poised in preparation to knock on his door.
"Ah, Severus, good. I was just sent to—"
"Get me, yes. I fear this is becoming a rather tiresome habit of Albus'."
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean."
They stood for a while, both unsure of what else to say. Finally, breaking the stony silence, Severus looked at Minerva questioningly, "Do you plan to keep me here or are you going to let me go to the feast. It is the Halloween feast, we really shouldn't miss it."
Minerva scowled at him, still unmoving.
"very well, though, if you're trying to seduce me, I highly discourage you on this of all days." He drawled, his humor not reaching the cold black of his eyes.
Minerva scoffed, turning down the corridor. "You're being completely ridiculous, Severus." She said in clipped tones. "I was merely wondering what was bothering you."
Severus tensed in preparation of defense but his expression remained aloof, "Bothering me? Whatever would be bothering me?"
Minerva spared him a scathing look as they neared the great Hall doors. Just as they approached the double doors, however, Minerva held out a hand, stopping Severus in his place. "Severus, whatever it is, it will get better, you know that right? It will be alright."
Severus fought the urge to sneer at her. She didn't know anything. Instead, raising his eyebrow, he turned away and opened the doors to the Hall.
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The feast was just as horrid as ever and Severus was ready for the end of it. As soon as the food disappeared and Dumbledore had his last word, Severus was up and out of his chair, exiting the Hall from a side door.
He went onto the grounds, the pale moonlight giving his pallid skin a faint glow. The air was cool, it being October. A light breeze played across the grounds, his hair flowing to and fro.
Severus had always enjoyed the grounds. They were peaceful, serene, undisturbed. Scarcely a creature would stir in the nighttime.
As he neared the Black Lake, Severus looked up at the moon. It was almost 11. Pulling out his smooth, black wand, he pointed his arm to the sky. With a quick swish, her conjured up a slender, white lantern. It floated, suspended in the air by his magic. With another flick, the lantern was alight, a small candle within it flickering joyfully. Severus watched the small lantern float up, through the sky until, with one final flick, a bright light burst through the sky and the lantern was gone.
12 years. 12 had passed and gone. In another 365 days, he would mourn her once more. Of course, it was always there: the sadness, the sorrow, the guilt. It never went away. Still, the pain was most fresh on Halloween, on October 31st and that day was almost at its end. For now.
He turned so his back was to the lake. He jumped, startled by the figure now standing before him.
"Back again, Severus?" Albus Dumbledore asked his eyes fixed upon the place the lantern had last been.
Severus muttered something innocuous under his breath. He avoided Dumbledore's knowing eyes when they finally drifted from the sky.
"I seem to notice a pattern here; a tradition if you will." Albus commented.
"Is it so bad to grieve the dead? Am I exempt from that, being such the faulty creature you think me to be?" Severus answered softly.
"All creatures lament. It is their nature. You, however, tend to fight such feelings. Why indulge in them now?"
Severus sneered at the elder man, chuckling darkly. "Like you don't know. Like you aren't just baiting me. You try me, old man. Every day I serve you as I promised and every day I pay for my past with more than I can bear." Severus broke off, finally looking at Dumbledore, "What do you want of me? Why do I have to suffer more?"
"Severus, you pledged yourself to me in atonement for your deeds, for your mistakes. You reap what you've sewn. What I have you do is much deserved and I feel no regrets in my actions." Dumbledore's voice had gone steely. It no longer rang with a lighter tone. He was cold, harsh, judgmental. "You made an unbreakable vow, Severus. You owe me your life. You owe me Lily's life, the life you feel you took from her. Do not question me. What I do with it is my business and mine alone."
"Have I no say in my life, Albus? In my soul? You speak of me as property; a dirty cloth with which you can wipe away all your dirty little tasks. You think you have the right to treat me like that? You think you own me?"
"No," he replied quietly, "I know so."
As Albus turned back to the school, he called over his shoulder back at Severus, "Don't stay out too late. You only get cranky when you do and I'm afraid the students cannot take too much more of your wrath."
Severus nodded in consent. Despite Albus facing the opposite way, the potion's master knew he'd gotten the message. Giving one last, long look to the night sky, Severus began the journey back to the castle.
He'd be back next year. He knew he'd be back and he'd mourn her once more.
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A/N 2: I know, I know, I know, Dumbledore isn't very nice. However, I thought to pay an homage to the way J.K. Rowling described Dumbledore treating Severus. It's not pretty but neither, then, was what Severus had done. Regardless, I hope you'll forgive my temporary besmirching. Either way, though, do tell me what you thought!