AN: I don't often write serious fan fiction, I prefer to dabble in parody. But reading another person's fan fiction led to a conversation with a close friend that had me itching for my pencil and notebook. Laura, you are officially one of my muses. ; ) Another thank-you to my other muse Sarah-Joy who helped me to search out and find the perfect title who also beta-d for me.

So here's the story I've been dying to write ever since, read and (hopefully) enjoy.

Always

Struggling and thrashing, half entrapped in a globe of enchantment, he stretched towards his wand in vain. His last desperate hope fled as the fangs punctured his neck, piercing into his skin with a feeling that reminded him of cold shards of glass. Powerless to stop it, his knees buckled and he crashed to the floor. Too soon, he thought, too soon!

"I regret it."

The cold voice seemed to echo in the small room, moments later he was released from the pressure of the globe. His body slumped to the floor and he could feel his life's blood pulsing out of him. A rushing noise between his ears overwhelmed the fading sound of footsteps. As the poison spreads through the body the victim feels a burning sensation. It seemed like he was reading the symptoms from a potions book rather than living through it himself. The poison also causes delusions, he thought to himself as the light behind his eyes brightened. Lying in a pool of his own blood, he greeted the oncoming vision gladly.

Huddled in an oversized coat a small boy peered through the bushes, out of sight. The sign had been stuck in the lawn for months but it had been uprooted and now he watched eagerly, trying to catch a decent view. The confusion around the property in Godric's Hollow had finally subsided and there were only four figures left on the end of the path leading to the house, waving good-bye to the last of the helpers. Peering intently he was finally able to see them properly: two tall adults standing next to two smaller ones. One was taller than the other and they were both wearing skirts.

As they turned and headed towards the door he crouched deeper in the bushes even though he knew they couldn't see him, protected by his magic. He sighed to himself, imagining the stuff he could do once he was actually an adult. Right now all he could do was make himself occasionally unnoticeable, not actually invisible like he was determined to learn eventually. The sound of giggles carried to the bushes and he cautiously poked his head up then one of them turned to look at the cluster of bushes. He was reassured by the feel of the magic around him until he had a sudden start – she was looking straight at him! Ducking back beneath the leaves he buried his head from view. Peering through the leaves, his heart beating wildly, he saw her start to walk off the path, heading towards his hiding place. He sighed in relief as he heard the faint noise of the mother calling out to the girl, gesturing at the house. Taking one last glance at the bushes, the girl then skipped towards the path and vanished inside.

He stayed there sitting cross-legged behind the bushes, thinking about the strange thing that had just happened. It had definitely been a close call… but how did it happen? Thinking harder and harder he could only come to one conclusion: that girl had to be able to do magic, she had to be a witch! Trudging home he tried to think harder about how she must have seen through his magic. Becoming unnoticeable was hard to control but he had had lots of practice. But what he thought of most on his way back home was the image of those piercing eyes. "Green," he whispered quietly to himself, "shining green."

There he was, sitting beside a different group of bushes in a spot that had become quite familiar since the new family had moved in. He never played on it himself but he watched both sisters exploring the playground. Since that first day he had grown more and more unsure: what if he had become noticeable, the magic slipping away on its' own? He had to watch her before he could be sure, that was the answer he told himself those first few days.

Since he had started watching her closely he had seen the small signs that could be missed if you weren't looking for them. Her sister, of course, didn't show a single sign of being anything besides ordinary. In the end he had admitted to himself that he didn't need to watch her any longer to make sure she was a witch. But he kept skulking in the bushes, ignoring the sarcastic voice in his head that sounded like his mother's, asking him why he was still there.

He stared at her, drinking her in. Her dark red hair was bouncing in delight as she ran up to the swings, turning back to call to her sister in excitement. He frowned angrily at the sister as she rolled her eyes, acting like she would do such a silly thing only to humour her sister. But a few minutes later, just like they did almost every day, both girls pumped their legs up and down. Raising higher and higher into the sky he could hear the excited squeals of the younger sister, finally joined in by the older one. All trace of the frown was gone as he smiled at the sight of those eyes, shining like nothing else he had ever seen. Watching them, swinging wildly back and forth, he was startled to hear their mother calling them in.

He wasn't the only one surprised – the older sister lost her grip while swinging near the ground and tumbled to her knees. Higher up the redhead's eyes grew wide, seeing her sister's fall and she let go of the rope in shock. As she fell through the air he prepared to jump up or yell, to do something but then she floated gently down and landed with a thump.

Anxiously the mother ran up towards her two daughters, reaching the older one first. "Petunia, are you alright?" she asked, looking at the girl's scraped leg. Petunia nodded tearfully then the mother dashed over to her other girl, sitting confused on the grass. "Lily! You must never ever to do that again!" she scolded fiercely before hugging her close. He kept watch from the bushes as they walked back to the house.

"Lily," he said to himself as though he was trying out the sound of the word. "Lily."

His entire body trembled from the poison that seemed to consume him like flames licking at his skin. Too soon, he thought desperately, his hands clutched to his bleeding neck. Too soon! Those two words hurt more than the pain wracking his body. He saw a crate moving from the corner of his eye, footsteps and then… it was like part of the wall was swept to the floor. Potter.

In agony he struggled for the power to speak as Harry leaned down. Grabbing Harry by the cloak in desperation, he managed to pull him low enough to hear. Finally he was able to force the words past his mouth, the blood around his lips bubbling with every word.

"Take … it … Take … it …"

He couldn't manage anything else, his memories emerged from the depths he had hidden them with years of occlumency. He looked at the boy with nothing to gather them with and he would have screamed in agony if he had had the strength. Not too soon, please no! His eyes were losing their focus but he saw a pair of trembling hands pass the boy a bottle. He watched, watched the boy gather them all up. Even though he had given some away Snape was filled with memories of her. Her smile, her laugh, the toss of her hair in the sunlight… the bittersweet look of her scorn that had consumed him. Only once he saw Harry had gathered up the silver threads did he dare ease his grip. Then he gathered up the last of his strength for the one thing he needed to do.

"Look … at … me …"

Those words caused the pain in his chest to intensify but it could not hurt him like her eyes that day. And he did it: the green eyes of Lily's son found those of the man sprawled on the floor.

Green. Her eyes, shining. Brighter than emeralds. Scintillating. He had always struggled to find a word to fully describe them. And in his vision the boy's face faded to be replaced by those dimpled cheeks, the long red hair. For a moment he almost flinched, wondering if he would still see the pain in her eyes. But as she looked at him, the eyes softened instead of hardening in anger. And as he stared into her eyes, he heard a question that had been asked of him forever ago.

He struggled to speak but this time he could not force the words into sound past the devouring pain. And looking into those eyes he saw her smiling sadly, understanding everything and showing him she stood by her choice. But it had not been too soon. This time he saw her lips, framing the words.

"All this time?"

"Always," Severus Snape answered, letting go of his last breath.