Lily had been dead for nearly six years and still he could not seem to accept it. The boy was seven years old; by now the resemblance to his father was clear. Severus leaned on the wall, safely hidden behind his Disillusionment Charm.
The Muggles were moving around inside the house: the man was eating and Petunia- Petunia had changed. She had once been pretty like her sister, but something must have happened when she married because now she just looked bony and... miserable. Would this have happened to Lily? But no, Lily would always be beautiful. Lily was special.
Petunia's son was watching the television, the great pile of blubber.
Without knowing how he got there, Severus found himself inside the Muggles' garden. He cast a brief, disgusted look at the flowerbed under the window – he had never understood the point of plants for decoration – and paused. Lilies. Yellow lilies. They had always been her favourite...
No. No tears. Not now. There had been too much time for tears already.
Painfully, he dragged his gaze upwards to meet green eyes staring back through the glass. But by the time Harry had reached the door, Severus was gone.