Author's Note: I have recently been mulling over whom to write about, who would be a perfect candidate for this piece, and I realize that Lily and Severus' relationship would be a good place to start. I hope who every reads this will enjoy. And please, remember to R&R. Criticism is welcomed, Flames can go elsewhere.
I loved you. I really truly loved you.
You were everything to me. You cried when your sister mocked you, when she called you an evil witch, and when she rejected your affection that I so carved in the cruelest of ways, and I was there, holding you, murmuring sweet nothings. I made sure your worthless sister felt as low and pained as she made you feel. I knew what it was like yo feel unwanted, hated, and never wanted you to suffer the same as I had.
Yet, it would be her you would defend when I would avenge you and it would be me that would get the blunt of your anger for trying to help you. Not once did you thank me for trying to be a good friend, no, I just got lectured. And the times you would accidently make things disappear? When you would make things move by just looking at them, and have your sister's dolls explode when you were angry? I took the blame for you. Every single TIME. I never resented you for it though. I couldn't. You were the only light I had in my ruddy life. Even when you didn't appreciate me, I still stayed. Like your loyal dog, I followed you blindly.
Then we entered Hogwarts. You promised it would be and you. That you would always have my back. That we would be friends forever. I foolishly believed you. Surely, you would weren't like everyone else in my life. You wouldn't wake up one day and decide that you too hated me, that you would leave me alone and in the dark by myself like everyone else had. I was wrong.
James Potter. The name to this day makes me see red. From the first day he tormented me. Made my life hell. Him and his group of friends. Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew. But he was by far the worst. You said you hated him too. That he was a prat. That you would never be friends with him let alone date him. I will give Potter this, I think he craved your attention as much as I did. Sadly, I understood his desire for your presence in his life. You were beautiful, to be around you was to be alive. You had this essence about you, something so pure and lively, to be away from you was almost painful.
I also hated him for that. It wasn't fair! I could see the way you looked at him, even when you still claimed to hate him. The lingering glances, the flush on your face that you tried to mask with anger. He caught your attention in a way I never could, no matter how I tried. I knew you first, I was your best friend and protector. I was the one who saw your fire, who thrived on it. I loved you first! I loved you the best! NOT HIM. You crushed my heart without knowing. I wonder if you care if you had known.
In the end, you turned out to be everything I thought you would never be. You left me behind. Again. I suppose it was my fault for thinking I could ever matter to anyone. I should have known I couldn't be loved. If my own family couldn't love me, how could you even begin to?
The final betrayal came in the form of a child. A son with James' face and your eyes. As I laying on this floor dying, staring into his eyes, so like yours, I feel it rush back to me. My love, my memories all at once. The hours I used to spend just watching you, marveling at how the sun bounced off your hair, a shade of red I could never quite find again. The freckles that dusted across the bridge of your nose, the milky white skin that for some miracle didn't ever blemish or tan. The sound of your laughter, belly deep, infectious. What I remember best, though, is your eyes. Like emerald jewels. How even when you wanted to cry, they never lost their light.
For a moment the achingly familiar sorrow that I have become accustomed to these last 17 years takes a hold of me. Then I feel a sense of peace. I meet his eyes one final time. The compassion, the care, I saw so much of you inside him that I felt all the hatred, bitterness, and pain wash away. He wasn't James' spawn. He wasn't anything like him. He was like you. The piece of goodness you left behind in this dark world. He was your son.
Knowing I had only moments left, I stared into his eyes, trying to find the words to convey the depth of my emotions, to make him understand all I had lost and apologize for not seeing sooner how much like his mother he was.
Finally as the darkness closed in, my vision faded and the only thing I could see were beautiful emerald eyes, and in my last breath, "You have your mother's eyes."