Disclaimer: All characters and universe belongs to J.K. Rowling
It's been 12 years to the day, and although no one could have known by looking at him as he made his way down to the Great Hall, Severus Snape was in agony. You would have thought that the passing of so many years would have dimmed the pain, but in fact, they only served to ignite his feelings of remorse and self-loathing. He had spent the morning pacing in his quarters trying desperately to get his whirlwind of emotions back in check. Back and forth his steps would lead him, never stopping, barely slowing. His step would falter as he suddenly drops to his knees, tears streaming down his waxen cheeks. In the next instant he would be on his feet again, balling his fists in fury and shouting insults to the walls.
One second he was sad, the next he was furious, going from tears to punches from one moment to the next. The only coherent thought that stuck with him, the one he'd had probably a million times over, was that if only he could turn back time, he would do things differently, so differently. 'I would choose you Lily. Without a doubt, I would choose you.'
He cursed a man he had once believed in, cursed the snake that rose his wand and stilled her heart. As if she meant nothing. As if the wonder of Lily Evans could ever be surpassed or replaced. Or worst. Ignored. He cursed a man that loved her, that she had chosen, that died before her, trying to protect her and their son. 'Didn't even have a wand the damn fool'. He cursed Lily for putting her trust in one of his friends. An unworthy piece of filth. 'You were supposed to be their friend Black! She trusted you and you betrayed her, you killed her!' He cursed Dumbledore for being too weak to protect them, the Ministry for letting Voldemort gain so much power, the Death Eaters for following the snake blindly...
But more than anyone, he cursed himself for going down that path, for trusting a man so unworthy of - anything. He cursed himself for being the one who told that filth of the prophecy. 'I'm so sorry my love, I'm so sorry. I would do anything to bring you back. It should have chosen you Lily. No matter who you chose in the end. It should have been you, it should always have been you…'
It was with this all consuming grief and guilt that Snape had made his way to the head table. For 12 years, that's how this day would go. Snape would cry and hit and curse. And when all was said and done, when he had no tears left to cry, and he was able to gain back some sort of control, some composure, he would leave his quarters and pretend that this day was no different than any other. Of course on that day, his students would pay dearly for the slightest mistake, but he didn't care. Lily, his dear Lily, his light, was gone.
Because of him.