There was a soft crack in the darkness. A man, tall and clothed from head to toe in black, hurried towards his destination. He strode forward past the many bare branches, his strides getting more and more frantic, more desperate as the thick silence threatened to suffocate. He left the cobbled path, opting to weave through the trees in an effort to arrive quicker. The only sounds that could be heard were his ragged breaths and the dry crunch of leaves underfoot.

The trees began to thin and the man suddenly came to a stop. He let out a thin moan as he looked at the house. There were lights on, on both the first and second floor, and he could hear the faint sound of records playing. The front door was open and swinging on its hinges. There was no sound of laughing or talking.

He staggered forward. His hands shook as he pulled the door open further and took a step inside. The light from the candles made his shadow dance ominously on the walls of the hallway as he made his way forward. He waved his hand to put out a small fire that had started from a candle fallen on the dark red rug and stepped into the living room.

The couch was lying diagonally across the room as if someone had tried to move it but either found it too heavy or didn't have time. Broken dishes and cups were scattered on the floor, the smell of hot chocolate and cookies permeating the air. The formerly sunny yellow curtain was ripped beyond salvaging and stained brown, it's destruction a stark contrast to how the fireplace looked completely untouched, including the wand set innocently on top of it. It took a man barely a glance to take in the chaos before he realized what he was looking for wasn't here.

He spun around at the shrill whistle that pierced through the dim music.

"Sectumsempra!"

The whistling cut off abruptly and for a second the man felt a pang of fear and dashed into the kitchen. (He refused to even entertain the notion that he may have killed whoever had been hiding there). He closed his eyes when he took in the small fire on the stove and the broken teapot. He waved his wand and when he next opened his eyes the teapot was back on the stove - the only hint that anything out of the ordinary happened was the small puddle on the floor. The wizard hesitated briefly before vanishing the spilled tea. The kitchen returned to its former complete state.

He stepped back into the living room and moved around the couch. His eyes flickered briefly to the man lying on the floor. Hazel eyes stared at him, wide and empty behind dirty lenses. The man returned his gaze to the front and stepped over the body to the stairs.

"Lil - Mrs. Potter?" He dared a whisper. The step underneath his foot creaked and the man froze with a wince. Then he paused.

He could hear soft sobs.

Severus Snape gave up all pretense of caution and tore up the steps, taking two or three at a time. He swung open the door to the first room. The empty king-sized bed and silent photos of a happy family were all he noticed before he was ripping open the next door and the next -

"Lily," Severus whispered as he sank to the floor just outside the door.

The red-haired woman was facing the other way, her shoulders shaking as she rocked back and forth, cries escaping her throat.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry -"

"Lily, it's me, Severus - Lily are you hurt? Lily, please, answer me, look at me,"

"Sev?"

She turned around. Green eyes looked into black. Severus staggered to his feet and rushed forward, his arms wrapping around his friend.

"You're alive, Lily, you're alive."

"I killed him, Sev, I killed my son."

Severus paused and he finally registered the small bundle Lily was holding. He couldn't quite bring himself to care.

"It wasn't you, Lily, it wasn't -"

"He told me to stand aside, Sev, he told me to stand aside, and I thought - I thought I'd die for him, I loved him so much, and I thought I knew what I signed up for, I thought I could do it, I'd been prepared for it, and I thought I was brave, but then he told me to stand aside, and I thought - I was scared Sev, so scared, and James was dead, and I didn't have my wand, and he told me to stand aside and - I killed my son, Sev, I killed Harry."

"You didn't kill him, Lily, you didn't - what was that?"

Lily looked towards the open window listlessly. "Sirius' motorbike. Oh, Sev - Sirius. James. I can't - I can't look at him. What would he say?"

"Then come with me," Severus said quickly. "Come with me, Lily, I'll keep you safe, I promise. Come with me, please."

"Go with you? To him?" The last word was spat out. Bright green eyes bore into Severus, daring him to say it, just daring him to.

"No," He managed to choke out. He twitched his hand just so so that nothing of his left arm was visible. "Not him. I promise, Lily, not him." The sound of engines came closer. "Lily, we need to go now, please, trust me." He held out his hand.

"To where?"

"Anywhere. Anywhere you want."

"But Harry and James -"

"They're dead! Staying won't bring them back!"

Lily stared at Severus. He felt guilt but not regret. He'd never claimed to care for the boy and the man. He wasn't about to start now when there was something far, far more important.

"They're dead." It wasn't a question.

Severus nodded anyway.

"They're dead, I killed them, it's my fault -"

Severus could hear crashing downstairs. Soon, Black would find the first body.

"Lily, we need to leave now, Black will kill you if he finds out."

Severus refused to let Lily turn into a third.

"I deserve it, I deserve to die, it should have been me,"

There was silence then Black let out a wail. So he's found Potter then.

"Lily, please, I'm begging you, please, for me, for your friend."

Lily wasn't listening. He'd have to try something else.

"If you stay, I stay."

Black had stopped screaming. He'd be coming upstairs soon.

"Black will kill me if he finds me here."

Lily looked up from the body in her arms.

"He wouldn't -"

"You know he would," he whispered harshly. There were footsteps.

"Lily? Harry? Oh, Merlin, please, Harry!"

"If you want me to live, come with me," Severus held out his hand once more. Black wouldn't have to open every door like he did. He'd come straight to the nursery.

"Come with me."

Lily stared at him. Severus stared back, holding his breath, waiting.

Lily took his hand.

"Harry!"

Sirius lunged through the doorway to find the window open, light blue curtains fluttering in the breeze. The room empty but for a single cooling body.


On November 12th, 1981, Neville Longbottom was declared the Boy-Who-Lived.


AN: Just to make it clear, Lily Potter is one of my favorite characters and this was not meant to be a character bashing story. The idea just wouldn't leave.