And The Walls Fell
Severus stared. He could see his reflection. But, he wasn't alone. No, Lily stood beside him, with a boy who would have been his son, not James Potter's. They both smiled at him and loved him and he knew that no matter what, this would never be. Albus stood behind him, a hand on his shoulder, a twinkle in his and an expression that spoke of parental love.
'No, he only sees me as the tool I am and of the help I can give him in ending this war.'
There were more people in the background. A father, who accepted him. A mother, who was strong enough to protect him and give him the love he deserved. His grandparents, who wanted him in their family and the multitude of Hogwarts staff who would accept him as a colleague.
But, no, he was an outcast in this society. The only acclimation he ever received was for being a Potions Master and even now he wasn't much of one of those. He had students to teach, detentions to over-see, papers to grade, the list was endless. When did he have time to invent or make better the potions he wanted to.
Staring into this mirror had him in near tears, but those he would save for his quarters. Even if he was alone, nowhere in this god-forsaken castle was safe from Albus' spying eyes. And so he waited until he was safer. Away from pain and manipulating old-coots.
His hears was broken, his mind in a turmoil of anger, grief and despair. He knew he should leave, but the wonders of seeing his Lily again was as mesmerizing as it was intoxicating. The joy of seeing his son, a boy he would never get to meet for James Potter had stolen the only girl he ever loved, will ever love. He knew there was no space in his heart for another. Lily Evan's was his one and only.
He started to stand but his knee's gave out and he crashed back to the ground. He felt the pressure of tears, but knew he couldn't give in. He used his Occlumency shields and pushed all of his turbulent emotions into the back of his mind. Eventually, he was standing and had pasted back on his emotionless façade. He turned away from the mirror before he could become caught in the trap of his heart. He stalked to the door and left the room as quickly as he could, for he could not stand another minute in the face of the could-have-been's.
He used the path-ways known to most Professors and got to his rooms with no interference. A bloody miracle in his opinion. Once within the confines of his rooms, he grabbed a bottle of his favorite Whisky, curled up on his emerald green couch and finally, finally, let the tears fall.