Lily stepped into the small room at the top of the stairs, quietly pushing the door shut behind her. The dark silence of the room enveloped her, and she took a deep, cleansing breath while her eyes adjusted. Walking to the window on the other side of the room and avoiding the creaky floorboard by memory, she pulled the dusty floral curtains aside and allowed a shaft of moonlight to cut across the floor, providing a small amount of illumination.

It was good to be home. In quiet moments like this one, Lily could forget the strife that living with Petunia these past few years had become, and it almost felt like she was an innocent ten-year-old again. No wands, no magic, no taunts of "freak"—here, now, in the semidarkness, with no one sniffing in disapproval, Lily could almost imagine that she was the same young, happy, carefree girl she had once been.

Moving over to the whitewashed bookshelf, Lily ran a gentle fingertip over her old dolls. The poor dears had been tossed here haphazardly so many years ago, and now they were coated in a layer of dust. Smiling slightly, Lily turned and examined the wall above her small desk. It was covered with fashion clippings, newspaper articles, and photographs, none of them magic. This was a Muggle child's bedroom, and the feeling that she didn't belong here came rushing back with a vengeance.

Swallowing thickly, Lily sat on the edge of the tiny bed and took her time looking around the room, committing it to memory. She was starting a new life soon, and after tonight, this room, this house—none of it would exist for her anymore.

"Goodbye," she whispered, feeling silly. She dashed away the foolish tears that had begun to fall—and froze. A pattern of light was dancing across her ceiling.

A pattern of light that she recognized.

Leaping up and rushing to the window, Lily took care to remain covered by the curtains as she peeked out. There it was again—two flashes of white, followed by one green, then two more white. She held a trembling hand to her mouth.

Severus wanted to see her.

Her wand was moving before she'd even made the conscious decision to go. She returned her signal—two green, one white, two green—and then she was sprinting nimbly down the stairs and out the back door. She did not tell anyone she was leaving.

She doubted they'd even know she was gone, anyway. It was Christmas Eve and the Evans clan was celebrating in the best way they knew how: gathering together with relatives they didn't care for, eating bland food they were unlikely to enjoy, and chatting uninterestedly about topics they had no passion for. James had not been invited and Lily had been instructed not to "liven things up like she usually did." She'd only been there for five minutes before escaping to her room; despite their many problems, she was nevertheless relieved that Severus had thought to try to see her.

Stumbling through the wooded area separating their two sections of the neighborhood, Lily cursed as yet another branch tore at the delicate tulle of her new holiday dress.

"Tsk, tsk, always forgetting she's a witch," came an amused drawl from her left. Lily stopped and turned in the direction of the voice, grinning despite herself.

"I suppose you think I ought to Diffindo a swath through the mighty jungle?" she returned, illuminating her wand and holding it aloft.

Severus' thin face looked even more hollow in the flickering light, and for a moment, Lily shivered. Then one corner of his mouth quirked up in an uncertain half-smile, and she relaxed. This was Sev, her old friend. He would never harm her.

"Hi," she whispered.

"Hi," he answered.

"I'm sorry—" They both spoke at once, the same words tumbling forth from two very different sets of lips. Lily fidgeted with her skirt before thrusting a hand through her hair, in awe as always of his supreme ability to control his features at all times. He hadn't so much as twitched a muscle while she felt like she was about to burst out of her skin.

"I'm sorry for being so pigheaded," she blurted out. "It's just that...when we were ten, you told me it didn't matter, and I believed you. Then when you called me that name, in front of everyone, I was so—so—hurt." It felt amazing to finally say it. Why, oh why, had she waited so long to have this conversation with him?

"You've nothing to apologize for," Severus returned evenly. "I did mean it, you know, when we were ten." He cleared his throat and Lily was shocked by the anguish and vehemence now flashing in his eyes. "You are perfect, Lily. I only snapped because I hated feeling so weak in front of bloody Potter and his bloody pals."

Lily cringed but he didn't seem to notice. As he gazed at her, the anger faded, replaced by a desperate hungriness that she'd never seen before. Snow began to fall softly, a handful of snowflakes dodging the tree branches to land on his shoulders, in her hair. The clean scent of winter surrounded them and Lily wished fervently that they could just stay here forever.

Reality quickly returned, however, when Severus stepped closer and brushed her hair back from her face, cradling her cheek as he did so.

"You are so beautiful, Lily," he breathed, the cold air making his words emerge in a puff of steam.

"Sev, what—"

"Ssh," he commanded, and her jaw snapped shut traitorously. He was tracing her eyebrows, her nose, her upper lip with one long finger, his gaze awed and focused. Lily felt tears well in her eyes at the tenderness she was about to crush—again.

"I'm engaged," she said helplessly, trying to blink away the moisture. Severus' throat bobbed as he swallowed, but he gave no other indication that he had even heard her. His other hand came up to cradle the back of her head as the first continued to stroke her face and neck gently, so gently. Lily bit her lip and shook her head, her vision starting to blur. He had to know, she had to tell him. "I'm getting married, Severus! To James!"

She thrust her newly-adorned hand up, directly in front of his face. It was perhaps lacking finesse, but she was at a loss. After three years, she and Severus were finally making up, and it was wonderful—but she had been unprepared for the depth of emotion he still harbored for her.

Severus closed his eyes and his hands ceased their movement, both of them coming to rest on her shoulders. Lily was sniffling uncontrollably now, the wet and the cold combining to set her nose and lungs on fire. After what seemed like a decade, Severus opened his eyes and stared intently at her. Then, slowly, his hands fell away, and Lily swayed forward, feeling confusingly bereft.

"I have something to confess to you as well," was all he said as he fumbled with one sleeve of his robes. His voice was even, calm, but Lily knew him nearly as well as she knew herself: the calmer he sounded, the more turmoil he was experiencing internally.

With a flourish, he flipped back his left sleeve and displayed his inner wrist in front of her face. The writhing black tattoo was not unexpected, but it felt like a blow to Lily's gut nonetheless.

"Oh, Sev," she whimpered, crying fully now. Launching herself at him, she cried great, racking, hysterical sobs for several minutes. It seemed they had both chosen sides, and now was truly the end of their friendship. She knew he would understand that she could not be friendly with a Death Eater; and she hardly expected him to be thrilled that she was going to become the beloved wife of his nemesis. It seemed she would be saying goodbye to more than just her childhood home this evening.

As the sobs receded, Lily became aware of Severus' body shuddering silently in her embrace. The enhanced feeling of cold on her shoulder suggested that Severus was not immune to the death of their childhood alliance, either. Her arms squeezed him tightly in a spasm of emotion, but he immediately straightened and withdrew. Lily pretended not to notice as he discreetly ran a sleeve over his eyes.

"So this is it, then," she said quietly. Her words echoed through the woods, the frigid air reverberating around the sounds and bouncing them back to her.

"No," he replied, suddenly regaining some of his usual bearing.

Confused, Lily looked at him, only to find herself being hauled clumsily against him. Then his lips were on hers, his hands buried in her hair, and he was the only warm thing in the entire world. She pressed against him, opening her mouth and kissing him back, because she couldn't bear to keep looking at the sadness she knew was stamped across his face.

His kiss gentled, and Lily reverently stroked his neck and shoulders as she allowed herself to commit this, commit him, to her memory, just like she had done with her old bedroom. Eventually, he pulled away, reluctantly dropping his hands to his sides.

"That was it," he said sadly. Lily nodded. It was the way things had to be, she knew that.

But knowing and wishing were two very different things, and for the first time since James had given her the lovely ring on her finger, she wished that things were different. Wished that their first, last, and "I love you" kiss hadn't all been rolled into one. Her musings were interrupted by Severus' broken voice.

"Be safe, Lily. I couldn't bear it if—"

She pressed a finger to his lips, knowing how much it would wound his pride to speak the rest aloud.

"I will," she assured him softly, "and you must promise me not to recklessly throw your life away."

He hesitated, clearly torn between giving her what she asked or claiming that he had nothing else to live for. Finally, he nodded, his lips bumping against her finger. Slowly, reluctantly, Lily removed her hand and stepped back. How did you say goodbye forever to one of your best friends?

Severus saved her the trouble by Disapparating. Lily remained in the woods for several minutes more before trudging home again, a pair of black eyes burned permanently into her vision.


A/N: This was written as a Christmas gift for The Last Poison Apple, as a thank-you for running the Christmas Fic Exchange on HPFC. I know exchanges require a LOT of effort, so well done!

I love Snape/Lily stories, but only the ones where there's hope of redemption. I like to think that, given the chance, they would have patched things up eventually...stupid Voldemort! As always, I'm not JK Rowling.