WARNING! DH SPOILERS AND A BIT OF SEXUAL THEMES AHEAD!

Hey everyone! This is my first HP oneshot and I'm quite excited. I know it starts off a little dull, but stick with it - I guarantee it will get better. This is basically a story about how Severus Snape felt when he found out Lily Evans, the love of his life, married James Potter, his mortal enemy, and how all those Death Eaters did NOT make him feel any better... And yes I realize I barely let Avery finish his sentences, and Dolohov and Bellatrix are a tad sex-crazed... But that's just my point of view, and besides, it's fanfiction, it doesn't have to be canon, right? And I LOVE writing Death Eaters, don't you? They're just so deliciously evil... :) Anyway, read, review, enjoy.

"Have you heard that Evans married Potter?"

Severus Snape choked on his Firewhiskey and slurped it all over the front of his robes. Avery laughed snidely.

"What?" Severus asked in amazement, when he had regained his speech. "When?"

"She married him," Avery replied, still sniggering, "a couple of days ago. Selwyn heard about it from some bartender. Can you believe a pureblood of his stature married a Mudblood like her? I mean, I always knew Potter was an idiot, but marrying--"

"I can't believe it," Severus muttered desperately.

"Why not? The Mudblood thing?"

"No, Avery," he replied, somewhat impatiently and angrily. "Just… Lily… Marry that bighead…"

"Since when are you on first name basis with that girl? I thought she finally laid off you a few years ago or something--"

"Stop it," Severus said. "She's much too beautiful for him, can't you see it? Much too… Sweet…" He said the last part in a careful whisper, determined not to let Avery know anything he shouldn't.

"Oh, that," Avery said, a smug grin appearing on his face. "I remember you always trying to glance under her skirt--"

"Stop it, Avery," he hissed. "Just to think that she is his…"

"Like I said, you would've loved to show her around your dormitory one night, I'm sure. Well, Snape, it happens to everyone. My older brother did a Half-Blood once. Of course, that's not nearly as bad as her situation--"

"Whose situation?" Said Dolohov, sitting beside Snape, untying his traveling cloak and calling over the barman.

"Lily Evans," replied Avery, grinning at Severus devilishly. "Now, officially, Lily Potter."

"You're kidding," Dolohov said, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. He sniggered as he said, "I knew that idiot would never amount to anything. Marry a Mudblood? Such a waste…"

"Indeed," confirmed Avery, nodding gravely. The barman approached their table, took Dolohov's order reluctantly and returned to grab a pint of gin-laced-butterbeer. Avery ignored him and continued, "However, he is skillful. I heard the Dark Lord wished to recruit them both. Not that I would work with a Mudblood under anyone else's orders--"

"They won't agree," said Severus quickly, downing a bit more Firewhiskey, and looking royally depressed. "They object soundly to the Dark Lord's philosophy."

"Then they shall be killed," said Dolohov matter-of-factly. "And, frankly, I hope to be the one to do it. A Blood Traitor and a Mudblood? Never."

"Do not speak too soon, Antonin," said Avery warningly. "You never know what the Dark Lord might threaten them with. Few refuse him when he truly wishes them to join."

"They will not care," persisted Severus. "Lily would not submit to the Dark Lord's wishes, as much as he will try. And Potter is just as objective to the Dark Lord as she is."

"You slept with her, didn't you?" Dolohov asked suddenly, appearing as though he remembered a long-lost detail. "Back in Hogwarts?"

"No," he said quickly, looking offended. "We were friends." When they glared at him in disbelief, he added, "Before I came to my senses, naturally." Severus was lying, of course. But he did not add anything to this last statement.

"Shame," remarked Dolohov, looking disappointed. "She always had a nice arse for a Mudblood."

"How dare you?" Severus muttered under his breath. No one seemed to have heard him.

Suddenly, Avery shouted at the door's direction, "Rodolphus! Bellatrix!"

The other two glanced at the door. There stood, sure enough, Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange.

Rodolphus noticed the trio at the table and pulled his wife wordlessly by the hand toward them. Bellatrix did not seem to mind and smiled pleasantly – though, on her, it still resembled a snarl – when she sat down.

The barman had only just arrived with Dolohov's drink when he saw Bellatrix and Rodolphus sitting down, removing their long cloaks, remaining only in their usual black robes. He seemed very determined not to crack, as it were, though he seemed utterly miserable that such a known pack of Death Eaters had chosen this particular pub as their hangout. However, he remained silent, and took their orders – two glasses of Ogden's best red wine.

"I'm feeling glamorous today," justified Bellatrix, her smile expanding across her face as she fumbled absentmindedly at her husband's collar. "What were we talking about?" she asked finally, after a long silence.

"Lily Evans," noted Dolohov, sipping his drink and focusing in astounding concentration on Bellatrix's cleavage. "And her wedding with James Potter."

"Oh, for the love of Merlin," sighed Bellatrix with very real exasperation, letting go of Rodolphus's collar and glaring in contemptuous disbelief at Dolohov and Avery. "A Mudblood and a Blood Traitor, what is there more to it? They can have as many filthy children as they want, see if I care."

"Oh, there is more to it, Bella," said Avery, grinning. "Snape here turns out to have wanted her all to himself."

This seemed to have shocked the couple. Rodolphus's head shot up from where he was staring at an imperfection in the wooden table; he looked positively alarmed. And Bellatrix glared at Snape for a moment, blinked, and cackled.

"You're joking!" she said, sniggering. "You? With her? Oh, please, Snape! What a lovely tale to weave!"

"Oh, we're not joking, my dear Bella," said Dolohov quickly. "Snape wanted to get in her pants since he was fourteen, didn't you, Snape?"

Snape refused to speak. He simply looked up, stared at Dolohov and Bellatrix resiliently, and quickly turned his head to the bar. No one waited for his response.

"Oh, that's right!" Bellatrix said, realization finally dawning on her. "I remember. And she didn't fancy you. Well, tough luck, Snape. There'll always be someone of purer blood than hers. Doesn't seem like someone to waste your time on, anyway. I recall a Mudblood wanted to marry Rodolphus, and he said--"

"I'll be back in a moment," Snape croaked, and in a nanosecond he was up from his chair and on his way to the toilet.

He threw the door open and entered the loo swiftly and quickly. He made sure no one was in any of the stalls before he kicked strongly, frustrated and angry, at one of the doors. He felt a numbing pain in his foot, but he dismissed it; he could not think of it now.

Thoughts ran in and out of his head like jets. Potter, he thought, firstly, his brow crinkling with hate and malice of the name, purely that name, which had caused him so much trouble since he was an eleven year old boy. Then, he thought of how Lilly was now a Potter, and, regretfully, tears began to well up in his eyes. His Lily Evans, the girl who was the light in his life, was now a Potter, and there was nothing he could do about it. Just the thought of the new name had been thrust upon her, Lily Potter, made Severus's hair stand on end.

Then, inevitably, a terrible thought coursed horribly through his mind and exploded like a nuclear bomb – they were married. The finality of it made him writhe in bitter agony. The vows had been uttered, the ring had been placed on her beautiful little finger, and the bond was tied forever. He imagined Lily, beautiful as a sunny summer's day, in a white dress and a long, elegant veil, her smile bestowed on everyone in the room. Then, his imagination betrayed him, and he saw James Potter, haughty, proud, and far too handsome than Severus would have hoped, sliding a ring around her finger. He kicked the same door again, but this time, the pain did not even strike him one bit; he was far too engrossed in his agonizing, horrifying thoughts to care about it.

But then an ever more horrifying thought came to his mind, and he instantly longed to push it away, push it away so it will never, ever, touch him again--

The wedding night. A bed, pink sheets, Lily's arm around Potter's neck, and Avery's taunting jeer echoing again and again through his mind--

No! he protested, uttering the word under his breath, gripping his hair with a look of despair. He clutched the sink, staring at his reflection in the mirror, casting away the greasy hair from his face as an excuse for something to do other than whimper.

But the thought would not leave him. His lips on hers – how terrible! How awful a thought! How could this possibly have come to this, he thought, bitterness spilling down upon him like rain; how could this have come to sobbing in a toilet in some crummy bar?

He emptied his mind completely, casting away every stray thought that came to mind. After all, as such a fabulous Occlumens, this was not such a hard task…

Or was it? Lilly's smile, her lips, her cheeks, her hair, her eyes – her gorgeous, green eyes, those eyes that made him swoon uncontrollably – popped into his mind again and again, teasing him, betraying him with every waking second. His love was a curse, not a blessing; Dumbledore had been a fool for so long thinking otherwise…

Every step of the conventional marriage applied in the Potter-Evans one entered his head, each one with its own painful pang.

They would make love. Yet, he would not dwell on that, he was determined not to; how could he possible think of such a horrible thing? His skin on hers, the very thought of it, made something in his chest singe.

Then, they would have a home of their own, would they not? The very home he had wanted, a home with her; he thought of her strolling around the house, pleasantly fixing dinners and doing housework; he thought of his old fantasy, returning home after a long day and being welcomed into a nice, warm home, with Lily at the doorstep, her lips curled into a winning, loving smiling, trotting over to kiss him after a long day's work… and then he saw himself replaced with Potter, and again, his heart burned in pain at the very thought.

Children. The word coursed through his head time and time again. How he longed to have his very own children with her, children he could love and protect and give a home he himself never dreamed to have. Together, with Lily, their children would be the happiest in the world, and yet, not spoiled, not without values…

But Potter's children? He suppressed a nasty laugh. They would be as spoiled, impertinent and attention seeking as their father. But he imagined the eyes, the stunning emerald eyes on a small, black haired baby, and his heart lurched…

Finally, he felt he could take no longer. The burden which Avery threw upon him ignorantly felt like huge, blundering baggage he was ashamed and pained to carry with him. A huge lump, or something, stayed stuck in his throat while he sobbed over the sink. At last, after a long while, he decided enough was enough, though he was still having the urge to simply fall asleep and not wake up, and, after drying his face from the flowing tears so freely cascading down his cheeks, opened the door and returned to the table. Unexpectedly, it was rattling with noise and action. Everyone were putting their traveling cloaks back on.

Bellatrix spoke. "Snape, you'll need to hurry," she said, sipping the last of her wine. "The Dark Lord requires you instantly. Instantly, Snape," she added gravely, desperate to put her point across. "Something about a job interview and some Trelawney hag. Well, get on with it!" she added finally, leaving the bar in a hurry, none of them even considering paying the barman. "You haven't much time, now have you? Surely you haven't put away any time for standing around like a houseplant?"

Snape did not even twitch at the attempted insult. He cautiously yet hurriedly donned his cloak and proceeded to leave the bar, Disapparating near the entrance. The thoughts prowling his mind were still there, alright, but he pushed them aside, forcing his tears to abandon him. His duty called, and it was far more important, he forced himself to think, than Lily Evans.

Well, here it is. Before any of you mention in to me, I'll point this out - I'm perfectly aware the timeline is all wrong and the prophecy couldn't have been made two weeks after the Potters' wedding, but it worked with my plot and I do NOT have to be completely canon-obliging in every fic I write. Now, as a triumphant finale, I give you a great, witty ending created by a good friend:

Love it? Review. Loathe it? Review. Questions? Review. Comments? Review.

And don't forget to review!

Love, Dana.