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"It does not do well to dwell on dreams and forget to live" - Albus Dumbledore

Xxxx

Faint words of grief made their way to him from people who pretended to care. Their voices were muffled, blocked from his hiding spot. The bark of the tree was rough against his back. He could feel the wood digging through the thin fabric and into his skin. Thick branches of the willow tree hung in front of him, obstructing his view of the procession. Few leaves scattered the ground while the branches were left bare. She hadn't been the only one to die. The dropping temperatures of fall took the greenery too. His legs shook beneath him in his crestfallen state and it was getting harder to stand. Severus began his gradual descent down the trunk, unable to take it any longer.

A sobbing came from what he hoped was the crowd ahead and not him. Cries of his own caused him to shiver as he fought to control them, now wasn't the time. He wanted to be there beside her, to stand where Remus was. He wanted to shove each of them out of the way and throw himself on her coffin, but it was a chance he'd never get and one he certainly didn't deserve.

Instead, he watched strangers cry over their bodies, people he had never known. Maybe they were family, members of the order, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that these people didn't know Lily, not like he did. Few of them had ever met the awkward, budding witch of a child and of those, even fewer had known her as intimately as he had.

None of them had been responsible for ending her life, that transgression lied solely with him.

He waited patiently as the coffins were lowered into the ground. He watched as the funeral goers paid their final respects, peppering the caskets with kisses or tears, sometimes both. And he watched, finally, as every last one of them meandered from the cemetery grounds.

When he was sure he was alone he forced himself back into a standing position. A wave of his wand undid the disillusionment charm he had hidden beneath. Severus steadied himself, drawing in reassuring breaths of air before making himself move. Cemetery workers would begin their work anytime, covering the caskets in dirt. If he didn't take this chance he would never get it again.

He knew his face was blotchy, that his eyes were red and swollen, but he simply didn't care. He fell to his knees, landing on the muddy grass. This time he knelt beside the box that held Lily's body. His fingers grazed the wood, willow, like her wand had been. It was a light tan, she would have liked that. Lily always erred on the lighter side of things, in all aspects of her life.

He'd planned a speech on his way here, things he needed to say. Now his throat was tight, and it was impossible to force words through it. The tears began to flow again, dripping onto the polished wood a foot or so beneath him. He drew in a shuddering breath, uttering a simple goodbye and stood once more.

Severus attempted to wipe the wet dirt from his otherwise perfect, black trousers. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, trying to regain composure and allow blood to color his face again before he was to return to the castle. Opening them finally and blinking away the wetness he found that he wasn't alone.

In a worn, black jumper and dress robes stood a man that was all too familiar. His dishwater brown hair hung into his face, having freed itself from the gel that had originally held it back. A barely healed scar ran across his cheek and another on his nose.

Severus felt the wand in his sleeve brushing against his skin, an instinctive reaction. His fingers twitched in response, but he restrained himself. Remus' hands were thrust in the pockets of his trousers and his shoulders were slumped, it wasn't a sign of attack. Severus remained where he was as a despairing smile crossed Remus' face.

Xxxx

The end of his fag sparked with a vibrant orange. It was held firmly between his thin lips. They were mauve in color, having grown slightly blue in the cold of winter. He took a long drag, allowing tobacco to fill his lungs and dance across his tongue. The meticulously wrapped paper grew brittle beneath the flame. The white turned black as ash built on the tip of the cigarette before falling into the snow below with a barely audible sizzle. He still held the slender box in his hand, giving it a gentle shake now and then.

Lily had always chastised him for his habit. She'd tried it only once during their time at Hogwarts and complained of the caustic, pepper flavor of nicotine. It had sat on a shelf for some time, gathering dust from disuse. He'd given up smoking…mostly. Only having the odd fag now and again.

It was late into the evening of Christmas day. Century old willow trees hung over the surroundings, bathing him even further in darkness. Only the slight light of the moon filled the cemetery. His fingers came up to his lips again to remove the fag and he took a wavering breath of fresh air. His hand quivered as he flicked more ash to the ground. Today, more than ever, was a day he needed a smoke.

The snow crunched beneath his knees as Severus knelt upon the ground. His blackthorn wand was gripped so tightly in his other hand that his already bloodless skin began to resemble the snow around him. A slight tremble wracked his body. He had stayed strong for so long, but now, seeing her name etched into the stone, he couldn't bare it any longer.

His free hand reached out, tracing the slopping letters that spelled out her name. The engraving was still perfect, untouched by nature. Even the dirt that covered her body had yet to settle in the nearly two months that passed since her burial.

He followed the font with his finger from the beginning of Lily to the end of Evans. He couldn't bring himself to acknowledge that she was now a Potter. That information had already been thrust on to him in the past and in his grieving state he wanted to remember her for the Lily he had known.

The snow began to melt beneath him from the warmth of his skin. It seeped through the ebony fabric of his robes, and he shivered at the damp cold. Still, he did not move. He had braved less important things for more, he could withstand a little chill.

His open palm rested on the freezing granite and his head dipped, staring at the ground he knew she laid beneath. Her body now preserved in an ever perfect, unmoving form. A shadow of the person she had been. Hot tears began to run along the prominent bridge of his aquiline nose. They dangled on the tip before falling and fading into the frost below.

"It's my fault, Lils." His voice wavered and broke. "…all my fault." It should have been him. His existence would make no difference in the world, at least not one that would do any good. But, her? She had fought against the very person he had become. She had strived to eliminate the very darkness that had invaded him. In one, swift, act of cowardice, he had cost her her life and lost all meaning in his.

Although their friendship had ended long ago, there was a certain brightness in his existence just knowing that she was alive. It was a brightness he hadn't realized until it was far too late. The lantern she had lit within him had not only dimmed at her death but had extinguished entirely.

Severus lifted his wand, drawing the point in a circle just above the gravestone. A small wreath of pristine, white lilies appeared as he drew away. Sprinkled amongst the flowers were the blood red dots of berries.

"I'm sorry, Lily. So bloody sorry."

"Why must you cry?"

The unfamiliar voice startled him, and he straightened from his hunched position in search of its owner. As he looked to his right he saw a man not standing there but floating just above the line of snow. There were no impressions of foot prints behind him, no indication of where he had come from. Squinting slightly at the man, Severus realized he wasn't entirely opaque. He had more of a physical body than that of Peeves, or even the Bloody Baron. Yet, the only explanation Severus could come to was that the man beside him was an apparition of some sort.

The colors of the man, from his skin to his clothes, were muted. He wore what Severus assumed had once been the color of jade, but was now diminished with age and death. His hair was white, painted with the light shade of blue ghosts tended to have. The waves of his locks reached past his shoulders, only a few inches longer than Severus'.

Severus wiped at the tears still staining his face, brushing away the trails they had left across his cheeks. He attempted to hide all evidence that he'd been upset, knowing that the effort was fruitless. He felt no need to give the spirit an explanation despite the worry that etched the man's face.

"Severus." The ghost spoke again, voice dripping with concern. "You still love her." It was phrased as that of a statement, not a question.

Severus' mouth was slightly agape. The skin of his lips barely grazing against one another. This was a cemetery. Surely the ghost belonged to one of the many graves scattered about the hillside. Something lingered in Severus' stomach, a knowledge that that wasn't where the man had come from at all. "Yes." He said ultimately, his voice hoarse from tears, dismay, and now surprise.

"She loves you."

Severus nearly scoffed at the foolishness. Perhaps the spirit wasn't as all knowing as he had thought mere moments ago. "My intentions this evening were to grieve in peace."

The ghost nodded towards the grave Severus was still perched in front of. "As you are. No one can see me except you."

This was it then, the day he'd waited for for years, the day he'd finally gone mental.

"It isn't crazy to believe in ghosts, to see us."

It was like the man could read his mind. Severus had lived around ghosts on a daily basis at the Hogwarts' castle. Being near yet another one wasn't what concerned him. Merely the fact he seemed to be imagining this spirit. He straightened, turning his back on Lily's name and the wreath that lay below it. He dusted the few flecks of snow that had yet to melt from his robes. The cigarette in his hand had been forgotten with the conversation and the flame grew closer to his fingers. He dropped it to the snow before stamping it out with his foot. "Who are you?"

"Wilmot. I come to those in need. Something - or rather - someone, called me to you."

Who could possibly have 'called' him? "You cannot help me." Severus' voice was one of saddened disbelief. He had hoped for more, but was sorely disappointed again.

"That is not why I'm here." Wilmot crossed his arms in defiance. "It's time you helped yourself."

"She is dead!" His voice cracked in frustration as his hand was raised upwards from his side. Wilmot's interruption was unnecessary in the first place. All Severus wanted was for him to leave.

"Listen to yourself." Wilmot's voice shook in a surprising anger. "What you once had may have been lost, but the memories of her linger inside you still."

Lingered, yes. They had been hidden away as Severus' occlumency grew in strength. He couldn't bear to remember the happiness they had shared, the happiness he so willingly threw away. He couldn't face the memories of her again until he righted the transgressions he had committed.

Severus glanced behind him again at the obscenely large, granite stone. The corners of his eyes still prickled with tears. He grit his teeth together, forcing the hardened façade he had become accustomed to. Lily had been gone for fifty-five days and had been cold in the ground for forty-eight of those. His eyes found Wilmot's again and Severus gave a sigh of defeat

Wilmot floated closer to him, his arm outstretched. Severus expected the spirit to pass through him, yet the bony, ghostlike fingers latched onto his own wrist. There was a yank behind his bellybutton as he was forced away from the cemetery. Despite knowing he wasn't ready to leave, he allowed Wilmot to take him.

Severus found the two of them standing on the Hogwarts grounds. It looked nearly identical to the scene of the school he had vacated not an hour before. There were few specks of movement among the snowy hills, beneath the violet sky. Students too unwilling to return to the warmth of their dorms.

The snow absorbed all sound, giving the impression of an abandoned wasteland. There was a sense of peace at the feeling they were the only ones in the world. "Why have you brought me here?" the interior corners of Severus' eyebrows were turned upwards.

"See for yourself." Wilmot's arm stretched outwards, a single finger gesturing to the frozen lake. Severus trained his eyes there, not entirely sure what he was looking for. The previous spell of emptiness was broken suddenly by a shriek of laughter as a young girl appeared in his line of sight. His heart plummeted at the vibrancy of her hair.

There was a familiarity to what lay in front of him. It was a memory he'd long ago forgotten and one that still remained fuzzy around the edges. He watched as his younger self chased after her. With an arm tucked around himself, he carried a precariously balanced tower of snowballs. His other hand held his wand which he used to throw them at her, pelting the back of her daffodil colored coat.

"Stop!" she cried playfully. Her pace slowed, and she heaved air in and out. The young Severus approached her, a toothy smile spread across his own face. Severus lifted a hand to his current face as he watched. He absentmindedly touched the space of his cheeks that he suspected still housed dimples. He hadn't smiled like that, not even to himself, in years.

His younger self caught up to her and he moved his arms open in front of him, causing the remaining balls to fall. His arms went around her stomach instead, squeezing against the puffy, feather filled coat. She laughed louder than before, throwing her head back against his shoulder.

The young Severus froze at her touch. His face turned ever so slightly towards hers, kissing her cheek. The smile on her face dimmed before falling completely. She pushed against his arms, insisting to be put down and he obeyed. She swiveled to stare up into his face. Her hands were placed on his chest and her lips parted to meet his.

Severus felt a brilliant shade of red creeping up his neck, the blood rush of embarrassment. It was strange, reliving this memory as a bystander. With Wilmot hovering beside him, Severus shifted uncomfortably. "That isn't love." He insisted. "Merely teenage lust."

Wilmot gave an exasperated shake of his head. "You refuse to believe what your eyes are telling you."

The kissing forms in front of them faded only to be replaced with something new. Severus knew immediately just what memory they had come to. It was one he painfully relived far more often than he should have. He was cross with Wilmot for having been brought here. He didn't need help to be reminded of this moment and perhaps more importantly, this memory had nothing to do with Lily loving him.

The sweltering, summer sun was almost palpable inside this typically green, rolling hills we're scorched in places from the unusually warm spring. The baby blue sky was entirely spotless. There wasn't a single fluffy, white cloud in sight. Had today been a normal day, not one riddled with pain and humiliation, Severus would have found it almost enjoyable.

He frowned suddenly at the realization that maybe he was wrong about where he was. His younger self was nowhere to be seen. Young Severus was likely still inside, finishing his O.W.L.S. He swiveled, examining his surroundings. He had been too caught up in the date they had visited to realize where exactly they had come.

Several paces away from where he stood sat Lily. She was flanked by Alice and Mary as they sat in a patch of grass near the lake. She beamed up at her two friends. To a passerby she might have appeared happy, but there was a tightness to her lips and the sparkle of her eyes had dulled. Severus had fought with her only a few days before. It was the same old row they'd had for years. She was angry with the him for who he chose to spend his time with and angry over his fascination with the dark arts. As usual, he had retaliated with his own accusations and things between them had been tense ever since. Severus hadn't realized until now that their fight had affected her so.

A sound came from across the grounds then, a howl of laughter. The group of girls turned in its direction, their conversation forgotten. The curiosity that had been scrawled across Lily's face quickly curdled into irritation. She pushed herself from the ground in a huff as Alice called out to her. "Leave them be." She insisted. "Snape will get plenty of his own spells in."

Lily ignored her, grumbling under her breath something that he couldn't quite understand. Severus followed her as she walked away, aiming for the forming crowd. The gnawing in his stomach began to grow. To remember something was entirely different than witnessing it all over again, an act he had no desire to participate in.

He could see from the short distance away that his younger self had already been hung in the air. His lanky arms flailed about him as he fought for some method of attack. His wand was on the ground, too far below him to be of any use. The young Severus fought to hit, scratch, do anything to James who was laughing at him just of reach when Lily's voice broke through the commotion. Severus could feel the fury radiating off her as she yelled at James.

The young Severus' velvety drawl, his voice deep even then, broke through the conversation. His eyes drifted shut in disappointment as he listened to himself spit the slur as venomously as possible. A silence followed, minute but charged, before the altercation began again.

Severus kept his eyes shut. He had no desire to relive the memory of his assault. The voices grew quieter suddenly. Lily had stalked off, unable to hear any more of the fight and thus not have it a part of her memory. When he opened his eyes again, he could see the back of her head as she made her way farther onto the grounds, walking towards the edge of the forest.

That had been their place. Few people were brave enough to get so close to the dangers that had supposedly laid within. They had been engrained with the idea that it was teeming will dangerous creatures from their first year. In reality, the two of them had rarely happened on a creature at all, let alone one that could harm them.

Lily collapsed into a seated position just inside the line of shade. She'd be nearly invisible here. She wiped at her eyes which Severus saw were brimming with tears before her head fell into her hands. Her face was obscured by fingers as she cried, and Severus felt even guiltier for having caused this. He sighed, his hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose and debating if he should have another cigarette.

To his surprise, the memory faded and was replaced with another. This time he found himself in the gaudily decorated Gryffindor tower. He'd been inside of it a handful of times as a professor, but found it interesting all the same. The common room looked exactly the same then as it did now.

Students lounged lazily about the great, red room. Some held books and study materials while others simply napped. In the corner a small group played a game of exploding snap. Severus looked around himself for any sign of why they were there when he spotted Lily curled up across from the fireplace. He made his way toward her. When he caught the figure of James from the corner of his eye, Severus froze in his tracks.

"Lily…" James' voice was sickly sweet as he approached her. It was tinged with what Severus believed to be fake regret. James smiled hopefully at her, his hand coming up to touch her wrist that was laid across the arm of the sofa.

She snatched it away from him with a glare before he could graze her skin. "Don't touch me." Every word was enunciated fiercely. James opened his mouth to speak again when she forced herself into a standing position. "I don't want to hear it."

"Lily, wait!" He called softly after her, trying not to draw too much attention. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

She whirled around to face him and some of the little chatter filling the room stopped. "Have you apologized to Sev?"

James said nothing, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly several times. She shook her head in seeming disappointment before turning towards the door from the tower. Severus was with her then, pulled in her direction by the confines of the memory. He looked behind them, glancing at the portrait of the fat lady. Severus had expected the ever-persistent James to follow her, but found that they were alone instead.

Fading light drifted through the slender tower windows, suggesting that it was after supper. The majority of the school would have returned to their dorms by now. Lily stood in the silent hall. She seemed frozen in her spot. A creak sounded as the portrait was opened and the dark-haired Mary stepped through. Lily's lip began to quiver at the sight of her friend before she was pulled into a tight embrace.

"I can't believe…" Lily trailed off, her voice muffled by Mary's robes. Severus didn't need to see her face to know that she was crying again. Her face was buried in the other girl's clothes and blocked by her own wine-red hair.

"I know." Soothed Mary in return, rubbing her back gently. She grit her teeth, clearly having her own opinion on that days' events. Severus couldn't blame her, he remembered all too well what Mulciber, his roommate and one-time friend, had done to her.

Lily pulled back suddenly, wiping at the snot beneath her nose. "I cared for him. I thought – I hoped – he would change."

"Did you…?" The question was abrupt, and Mary's face was hesitant in response.

Lily dropped her head, staring at the stones beneath her feet. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, in embarrassment or despondence, Severus wasn't sure. "Yes." She admitted finally, her voice still hushed. "How could he call me that?" She shook her head. "I thought…I thought he felt the same way."

Severus was crushed, he had. Lily had meant everything to him. He knew that he had hurt her, but he had no idea he'd destroyed her. He brought his thumb and forefinger up to his eyelids, holding them shut. The two girls still talked in front of him, but he could no longer focus on what they were saying. "I no longer wish to be here, Wilmot." As if he'd ever wished to be there. "I'm aware of my mistakes, I don't need…this."

He felt another lurch of his stomach as he was apparated elsewhere. His hand dropped from his face in relief and he fumbled with his pocket to draw out another fag. He needed the satisfying release that it brought. Distracted with his desire for a smoke, he missed the scene forming around him. It was only when he raised his hand, cigarette pinched between his fingers, that he took it all in.

There was nothing sad about this memory, no bittersweet pain that came with the scenery. The room in front of him was lovingly familiar. This recollection was rather new, having taken place only five days before.

The two of them stood in the near dark room. A dying fire flickered in the corner, bathing the area in small tendrils of light. On an opposite wall was a twinkling Christmas tree, causing the building to smell like pine.

The past Severus leaned back into a plush, tufted couch beside the tree. A lithe woman was entwined in his arms. Her white blonde hair cascaded down her back, stark in the dimly lit room. Severus rubbed a thumb across the smooth, creamy skin of her arm as the two of them relaxed in the peaceful quiet. She dipped her head back so as to meet his eyes before gripping the black collar of his shirt and pulling him towards her. She captured his thin lips in a passionate kiss.

The present Severus felt his cheeks grow warm with blood. This was certainly a memory he enjoyed…in private. He shifted with uncomfortable steps as the snogging continued in front of him. Severus looked over at Wilmot, realizing that the spirit was watching him rather than the scene unfolding. Wilmot was quiet as his eyes bored into Severus.

His own voice, that from the past, broke the silence with a low murmur that was quieted by her close presence. "I love you, Issa."

Severus spoke to Wilmot in slow realization. "You said 'she loves you'. You never meant Lily, did you?"

"No." The spirit gave a curt shake of the head. "Its fine to miss Lily, to be overwhelmed with guilt. Its acceptable to grieve for what you once had. Do not forget yourself and your family in the process." He tilted his head, gesturing to the couple. Their position on the furniture had changed as they'd been filled with a need for more than just kissing.

Severus set his jaw, flexing the muscles of the cheeks. Narcissa was the one he should be with. There was a beautiful woman waiting for him in the warmth of their home and he'd chosen to freeze himself instead. He dragged a hand over his face, closing his lids. This was not only the first Christmas since Lily's passing, but it was his first Christmas with Narcissa Black as well. One of them may be gone, but the other was devoted to him.

Dropping the unlit fag back in his pocket, he opened his eyes again to the biting chill and found himself were he had originally wanted to be. He stood in the snow, still planted in front of the Potters' grave with no Wilmot to be found.

"Rus?" The feminine voice dripped with worry and he turned towards it, the tension in his shoulders dropping. Narcissa was watching him carefully, concern visible in her features. A bundled form was held tight against her chest, black hair blowing lightly in the light wind.

Severus stepped towards her. His hands went around her sides and he buried his face against the both of them. The intoxicating, floral scent of her skin. He tilted his head ever so slightly, brushing his lips against her neck. "Let's go home."