This is JKR's sandbox – I'm just happily playing in the sand.

**This quote comes from a great story in progress (and a recommended read) on this site by the title of Petunia's Boys by severusphoenix. I think it put the falling out between Severus and Lily best.

Such Lies that My Husband Told Me

As Told by Lily Potter nee Evans

I never brought James' attention to the wedding gift (I find it funny that I don't think about it sarcastically) from Narcissa. I didn't want to cause trouble – trouble between my husband and the Malfoys', trouble between my husband and myself. So I charmed the scroll so it could only be read by me and placed it in a box where I kept the things I treasured most in. It was safe there – prior experience had taught James (and Sirius, the nosy git) about the wards I kept on my personal things that weren't meant for eyes other than my own. Besides, I was happy and I was content. That is, whenever I had the time to be alone in complete silence. Between my duties as a member of the Order, taking courses by Owl to become a certified healer and to gain my mastery in Charms and most importantly, as a mother, I rarely had those moments. It was in one of these rare silent moments when I stumbled across a secret room in our study.

I had never noticed it before but in a cheesy fashion, it was behind a bookcase. My curiosity (a trait I share with my sister Petunia) got the best of me and since Harry was asleep upstairs (with proper monitoring charms, of course), I decided to go in. I wish now with all my heart that I could get a Time Turner and rethink that decision. This hidden room was approximately the size of a walk-in closet and looked like it served the same purpose that my dad's garage did. The furniture looked worn but comfortable and the space itself looked like it was used often. Thinking it no more than a place that James and the rest of the Marauders' relaxed so they wouldn't bother Harry while he slept, I was going to leave the place just the way I found it.

Then I saw a Pensive and above it, a medium sized shelf that held many tubes of extracted memories. Looking closer, I could see that on some of the vials themselves were labeled "Best Snivellus Pranks: Year One" and on each vial there was a different date. The handwriting wasn't the same on all the vials either – I recognized the beautiful script (and although he complains about his upbringing, at least because of it he has beautiful penmanship) that was Sirius', the messy scribble ("That's what dicti-quills are for," he often says) that was James' and on a few, the blocky scrawl that was Pettigrew's'. On none of them (and there were plenty, going from our first year to our last) did I see Remus' handwriting. One well-worn label in particular caught my attention. It read, "Best Snivellus Pranks: Year Five – When Lily Finally Put Paid to Snively." The handwriting on this vial was James' and so, before I lost my nerve, I poured the memory in the Pensive, and dove in.

Such lies my husband told me.

When I asked James why he constantly attacked him he always stated because he attacked them first and I believed James, not thinking that going against 3 to 1 odds went against everything Slytherin. Yet in this memory, I watched in horror as I saw James, Sirius, and Pettigrew plan - PLAN the attack on him. I watched as he choked on pink soap suds, watched him struggle while upside down as he fought against his own jinx. The worst part of reliving this memory was watching James flirt with me, watching myself almost smile in his direction and watching him shatter to pieces through his eyes in response.

I understood then in that moment as I watched, like I didn't understand before, why he lashed out and called me that name. With all those people around, he didn't expect their help, but he expected mine. Instead, I flirted with his worst enemy. I relived calling him 'Snivellus,' and telling him that he should wash his underwear. I thought the expression that he had while watching him flirt was awful but the expression he had after that comment was worse. His eyes looked dead and looking back, I remembered that his eyes had that dead look the last two years in Hogwarts.

The memory went further, past me leaving, and watched James hanging him upside down again and hearing him asking the gathered crowd did they want to see him take off his underwear. The crowd roared their approval but before it got that far, Narcissa Black came on the scene. With her blonde hair flowing behind her, she looked like an avenging angel or a Valkyrie as she sent a disarming charm so strong that not only did all four Marauders lose their wands, but they were thrown away by the impact of her spell. With the opposite hand, she cast a cushioning charm on the ground that caught him safely. James dared not approached Narcissa but instead sent Sirius to obtain all of their wands. She ignored him and asked him if he was ok and his response was that he was fine, that he had to find me to apologize. He thanked Narcissa for her assistance and hurried away, forgetting not only his notes and books, but his wand also.

Such lies my husband told me.

I couldn't watch any more of this memory so I came out of it, and put the memory back in the vial and the vial back on the shelf. Shocked beyond words, I left the room and went to fetch a bottle of good old fashion muggle English gin. Even before this particular memory, it was always stated that he cared more for the Dark Arts then he did for me, but in this memory, I didn't see that. All I saw was someone who cared more about me and my feelings and in the end I cruelly hurt him three times in the same day. Swirling the deceptively clear liquid in my glass, my mind went back to something that my sister told me the summer after my Fifth Year –

**"So the pretty cheerleader is finally dumping the embarrassing, ugly, unpopular friend from her childhood so she can hook up with the handsome team captain, then," Petunia had taunted. "You must have been so relieved when he finally did something to give you an excuse and make it his fault instead of yours."

I had denied it then, but she was right. I tried to justify it to Petunia by saying that we had grown apart and that his political beliefs were the final nail in the coffin that was our friendship. That by me being friends with him was causing tension with the other members of my House and most importantly, my roommates. Petunia had responded that our friendship should have been more important than Houses and that I didn't let her ruin our friendship, why let other people do so. I told her that she didn't understand - that I had to live with and attend classes with these people. She retorted that she did understand – that I was yellow-belly snob that had caved in at the first real test of our friendship and besides, how could I get a true opinion of his political views based on one word that was obviously said in anger?

I don't know how long I sat in front of the fireplace in total despair, nursing that one glass on gin. Eventually I finished it and eventually James (AND Sirius, AND Pettigrew, AND Remus – although Remus looked like he rather been someplace else) came back. James attempted to kiss me but I flinched away from his touch and told him that I wasn't feeling well. I bid the rest of the Marauders a good night and went upstairs to watch my son sleep. As Harry slept peacefully, all I could see and hear in my mind's eye were the taunts, the laughter, my own cruelness, Sirius saying he deserved what he got just because 'he exists,' Narcissa doing what I should have done. And in the end, as I settled into what will prove to be a restless sleep, all I could think was –

Such lies that my husband told me.