Who is the greater fool, the child scared of the dark or the man fearing the light?

He could remember a time when things weren't so terrible, a glimmer of a memory as elusive as a mirage in the desert. It was only a snatch of a moment, but it was all he could hold onto in those dark times as he grew older, when his parents did nothing but fight, in those times his father's fragile content turned to violent anger. He would remember the sheer simplicity of it, sitting on the swing set and moving his legs back and forth, until he gained momentum and was soon swinging so high that he almost flung himself off. He would remember that his mother was smiling, his father was laughing, and it was the only time they had ever been happy.

But it became harder to remember. Sometimes, he thought he deluded himself into thinking that it had ever happened, how could they ever have been happy as a family? More often than not, he could remember retreating to his room, pretending to be oblivious to the screaming matches happening just beyond the door. His father despised magic, and in despising that he despised his wife also. The boy pretended that he didn't know what the constant, rhythmic sound of sharp blows were. He covered his ears and pretended that he was deaf to the whimpering and yelps of his mother. As a last resort, he would convince himself to turn out the light, so he wouldn't be able to see their shadows on the thin screen that separated his room from theirs. It terrified him, being alone in the dark, not knowing what else might be lurking around. It was a childish fear, an irrational fear, but he would rather face that than watching the battle between his parents play itself out right before his eyes. Eventually, the time came when he became reliant on shutting out that light. It was so much easier to tremble at his fear, it was easier than having to deal with what was really happening around him. The feeble memory of the swing set just didn't help anymore; how could it when reality contradicted it at every moment?

But then it was revived.

His mother had sent him outside, just as his father's temper was about to errupt. Perhaps she had finally realised how traumatising it was for her son, perhaps she just couldn't bear his prescence in the house for a moment longer. The boy was only too glad to escape the confines of the house, and was drawn to the park. Usually, he tended to avoid it. It didn't matter that he had tricked himself into believing the swing set memory, he wanted to preserve it with all his might and going to that park meant destroying it.

But that didn't happen.

Instead, he heard lively laughter, the creak of a swing set as it swung to its limit; an echo of that very memory which he held locked in his heart. A blur of red caught his attention and tentatively, he stepped forward so that he could see who was there.

There were two of them, two little girls on the swing set. One hardly moved at all, her mouth was pressed into a hard line as she stared up at the other, who was swinging so high that she almost went over the top of the swing set. She had captured his attention, the bright red head, with her happiness and radiance.

"Do you think I can go all the way over?" she yelled out a challenge to the other girl.

"Lily!" her companion gasped. "Don't even try it. You'll get hurt. Don't-"

But the red head, Lily, disregarded this warning and went all the way anyway, in a graceful arc. She stopped the swing soon after, laughing heartily at the expression on her friend's face.

"Oh Tuney, really, it's all right," she beamed, catching her breath. But the other simply got off the swing and began walking away.

"Tuney!" Lily called. "Where are you going?"

"Home," the other replied primly. She turned round and continued walking, so Lily was left with no other option but to follow.

The boy returned home that night, his thoughts on that girl who was just seemed so alive. He was sure that she was like him, a witch. If she could be a witch, and she could be that happy, why couldn't he? Didn't it mean that his father was wrong? His father, who had berated and cursed and insulted all those who had magic, his father who believed that it was evil. He must be wrong, no one that care free and innocent could ever be evil, even if his father said so. The boy was resolved to talk to her the next time they met.

It didn't go too well, that first meeting. He ended up upsetting Petunia, the other girl who was Lily's sister, which meant he offended Lily as well. Despite this, she had taken the bait, his knowledge of the wizarding world, and over time, they became friends. This new development, coupled with his schooling at Hogwarts, began to make life seem a little brigher. That is, until that shattering scene that destroyed their friendship.

"I don't want to talk to you," she said as they stood outside the Gryffindor portrait. "Go away."

"I'm sorry," he'd grovelled in reply. "I didn't... "

"Didn't what?" Lily interrupted scathingly. "Didn't mean to call me a mudblood? Why spare me that when you say that to everyone who is like me, who is muggle born? You don't have to follow your stupid Death Eater wannabe friends around."

"You don't understand how it is," he'd snapped. "How could you? You will never, in a million years understand what it is like for me."

Her gaze suddenly became glacial. "Indeed. How could I understand? But you know what Sev? It's your choice. You choose to stand back when something can be done, you choose to hang out with those featherbrains, you choose to take the easy way out."

It was one of many low points in their friendship, he hadn't meant for it to come out that way, but the thing was, Lily would never understand. She'd never understand that he'd become so used to hiding, so used to lurking in the shadows that he just couldn't step out of them. How could she keep pushing him out of it? Didn't she realise that it was the only thing he could lean on? Couldn't she see how much it cost him? Already, she had drawn him out, but only half way, so he was neither in the darkness nor in the light. That was where she left him, after she broke their friendship and turned her back on him forever.

He only realised how right she was after he killed her.