Thanks for the reviews! I was supposed to update earlier today/last night, but I actually spent a while debating this chapter. I wasn't sure if it said everything I needed it to say and I also couldn't decide if I should keep the last paragraph or not. I originally had another paragraph that was more about Lily, but I liked how it was simple and went with the very first one. In the end, I decided that I was being stupid and kept it how it was.

Anonymous- Thanks for the review! And wow, I had no idea that there was a Harry Potter based band. I'm listening to the songs now, so thanks for the suggestion!

the reader- Thanks for the review! I agree about Sirius hating Snape more than James. In Snape's memories, James just seemed happy to tease him. Sirius seemed to hate him, especially when he sees him again in Prisoner of Azkaban. I wanted to create a reason explaining his hate other than a childhood grudge, and Regulus has to do with that reason.

Chapter Fifty- The Final Lie

1974

It was an ugly summer day.

The sky above was clouded over, thick and gray, casting a dreary gloom over the abandoned playground. There was no children's laughter ringing out, only the restless crackle of dead leaves. There was just enough of a breeze for the two swings to creak ominously as they swayed back and forth, one empty, the other not.

Severus's fingers were clenched tightly to the chains on either side of him, numb to the cold metal, barely noticing that his swing was even moving. His eyes were fixed on the small hill ahead. If Lily came, he would see her there.

He hadn't seen her for nearly two weeks, ever since that brief moment of eye contact outside the Hogwarts Express. Every day he waited for her. He wasn't sure why he waited. He may have been responsible for his share of mistakes, but part of him was still angry with her. Lately, it was as if she only saw the worst in him, as if he wasn't even worth a second glance. Didn't five years of friendship earn a second glance? She didn't have the right to assume he had changed just because of a stupid little word. If she wanted to throw their friendship away over something so meaningless, that was her choice, and it was fine with him.

Except it wasn't fine. As angry as he was, he missed her. Which was why he waited.

It was pathetic and he despised himself for it. But as much as he despised himself, he cared for her even more. After all, she was Lily Evans, the first person to see him for what he was and to accept him for it. She had brightened his dark world with just a simple look his way. She made him smile when he tried to scowl. She made him laugh when he was close to tears. She made him feel something, something even Severus couldn't begin to understand, but it was something light. Something that he refused to let go of.

But when the gray darkened to the black of night, Severus knew that, like the other twelve days, Lily would not be coming. A lump in his throat, he stood up from the swing, shoved his hands into his worn out jeans, and trudged home.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming back," Eileen said when he walked inside, his heart still heavy. From the tattered rag in her calloused hands, it was obvious that she had been cleaning, not that anyone would be able to tell by the grim state of the house. Severus wondered why she kept trying.

But when his eyes flashed to meet the coal black that made up her eyes, the same coal black that was so much like his, but at the same time, not even remotely alike, he felt a renewed surge of fury. Her eyes were dead. Weak and resigned. Two things that Severus swore that he would never be. He loathed the very sight. "I'm surprised that you even noticed I was gone."

His voice was harsh, even for him, but he didn't bother to soften it. He was tired of the intensifying battle of emotions inside him that never seemed to cease. He wanted to be angry. It was safer to be angry. But there was melancholy, venomous and lurking, that seemed to be constantly tugging at the back of his mind, urging him to give up. To be like her. He may have been her son, but he refused to be like her. At that moment, Severus shoved aside all weak emotions; melancholy included, and gladly seized anger.

He was more furious than ever at Lily for making him wait, for making him willing to wait. He was furious at the Slytherins, for showing him that he could be someone, for turning what had begun as a simple want into an unquenchable need. He was furious at the other Houses for believing they were superior only because they followed Dumbledore's twisted code of morality, the same code of morality that allowed the Marauders to exist. He was furious at Albus Dumbledore, everybody's hero, for being blind and accomplishing nothing. He was furious at Tobias for making him afraid, for making him weak. Most of all, he was furious at Eileen, for being there. Suddenly, he wished more than ever that she had left long ago. Then he would have at least had an excuse of not having a mother.

If Eileen knew the rage that was boiling inside Severus, she revealed nothing. Severus thought he saw something seemed flicker behind those empty eyes, but if anything had been there, it had fled. They were just as impassive as ever. "Of course I noticed. The windows are still filthy. " She tossed him the greasy rag that she had been holding. "Clean them. Before he gets home."

Severus silently took the rag, but blood was still pounding in his ears. Without another word, he headed upstairs, his movements slow and controlled. Anger may have been power, but restraint was everything. What good was power when there wasn't control to wield it? But once he reached his room, something inside him snapped. Anger had flooded over.

He lunged for the already battered chair in the corner and hurled it against the wall as forcefully as he could, a snarl escaping his lips. With a loud cracking noise, it broke in half, clattering to the floor in splintered pieces. Breathing heavily, Severus stood back, eyeing the fresh indent in the graying wall with satisfaction. It was a scar, bold and permanent.

His satisfaction was brief. He had lost control. He was no better than Tobias.

He hated himself. He hated Spinner's End. He hated his mother. He hated his father. He hated everyone.

All except for Lily Evans. The main cause of his growing misery. It was ironic.

Severus hated irony.

He sat down on the bed, his breaths gradually slowing. His anger was gone. All that was left behind was melancholy. He had thought that he had been able to set it aside, but it was impossible to do so for long. Melancholy was stronger than he had suspected. It followed him, he had inherited from Eileen after all, and it was always there, waiting to drown him if he allowed it.

He wanted to hate Lily as much as he hated them. He wanted to forget about her. But he knew he couldn't. Lily Evans was not only his best friend, but his entire world.

And he had lost her.

1974

For the past thirteen mornings, Lily had followed a schedule.

After tossing and turning throughout the night, she would awake at approximately seven o'clock. She would then try desperately to sleep for another hour or two, it was summer after all, but it was hopeless. That hour or two would be spent staring up at the ceiling. Most of those long minutes consisted of wondering about Severus, wondering if that day was the day she should talk to him.

Once she went downstairs for breakfast, Lily would have a cup of tea and mull over what she would say to him, if she were to receive the opportunity. Once a cranky Petunia sat down at the table, Lily would begin to wonder if Severus would even want to talk to her. She was never able to ponder that worry for very long; Petunia's morning grumbles never allowed very much thought.

But the fourteenth morning was different. There had been no tossing or turning, no struggling to steal another hour of sleep. When Lily awoke, she was rested. She dressed as quickly as possible, yanked a brush through her hair, and slipped outside, not bothering with her usual cup of tea. She had had enough. It was time to fix things with Severus. Before they ruined their friendship for good.

It had only taken a few steps for her resolution to falter. She wanted to fix her friendship with Severus, more than anything. But she wasn't certain if it could be fixed. She had given him chance after chance and it seemed like she was always the one being disappointed. Whether he admitted it or not, he was changing before her very eyes. In the middle of the pavement, Lily halted.

But what if they could save their friendship? What if there was one more chance left, and she was throwing it away? Lily continued walking, chewing the bottom of her lip as she did so. It hadn't been entirely Severus's fault. She could have spoken up sooner. They both could have been more honest with each other. Lily's forehead creased at the thought. She had been upset at him for keeping secrets, but she had kept hers as well. She had hid her doubts from him, hid the fact that she had felt sorry for James Potter, the very boy who had tormented him from the first day, and hid the humiliating secret that she had actually tried to help him. She had even hid the truth, that she was beginning to see a Marauder, Remus Lupin, as a friend, in the loosest of terms.

They had both made mistakes. Neither of them had been the ideal friend. But they could change that. Lily knew they could. They had been best friends since the age of nine, since Severus had first told her about magic. She had instinctively trusted him that day, and instinctively, she knew to trust him now. They deserved a second chance. Their friendship deserved a second chance. More certain than ever, Lily quickened her pace.

She was about to move toward the hill, but halfway there, she changed direction and deliberately went the longer way, near the trees that bordered the playground. She had a sudden impulse to surprise him when she saw him. If she saw him. Lily faltered, realizing that she couldn't even be positive that he would be there. But even if he wasn't there, she would find him. She knew all of his hiding spots.

But to her relief, Severus was there. Even from a distance, with his back facing her, Lily knew it was him. He made a funny picture, dark and bleak on the swings, with the sapphire blue sky shining above. Unable to conceal the smile that she had been forcing for days, she tiptoed onto the playground, her almond-shaped green eyes focused on the figure in front of her. Barely holding back a laugh, she willed him not to turn around as she crept closer. Somehow, she managed to reach the swings without a sound. It was only when she slipped into the swing that it creaked, causing Severus to fall off in surprise.

"Hi, Sev," Lily smiled impishly. "Did you miss me?"

Severus scrambled onto his swing again as quickly as he could, a mess of long limbs and tangled black hair. He didn't bother to brush off his jeans or even his palms. He was too busy watching her in astonishment, as if he couldn't believe his eyes.

Lily's smile widened. That told her almost everything she needed to know. "I missed you. A lot."

"I missed you too," Severus finally mumbled, averting his gaze as his pale cheeks tinged with pink. When he looked up, she could see the dark rings that shadowed his eyes, the fresh mark of a blackening bruise on his jaw just barely visible beneath his curtains of hair. "I'm sorry, Lily."

"I'm sorry too," Lily said, her expression suddenly serious, flinching at the sight of the bruise. She should have been there for him. There was a painful prickle of guilt at the realization that she had deserted him when he undoubtedly needed her most.

Severus stared at her in bewilderment, frowning slightly. "You didn't do anything."

"I did. We both did," said Lily, hesitating as she struggled to voice an explanation for why it had taken so long for her to approach him. "It wasn't just because of a word, you know. It was because I've been worried for a while that you're changing, and then you said Mudblood and I thought you really had changed."

"Maybe I am changing," Severus sounded strangely faraway even though he was only inches from her. "But is that so horrible?"

"I like the old Sev," Lily said softly. "He's my best friend."

"I can't promise that I'll stay the same forever, Lily, but I promise you, that you being my best friend won't ever change," Severus was no longer distant. His eyes were focused on her and her alone, genuine and almost hopeful. "When I said that word, I didn't mean it. I wasn't thinking about it. They say it so often…" His voice trailed off. "I know that's not a good reason."

"They're the reason why you're changing," Lily ventured, almost expecting him resort to his defensive ways. But even if he did, she had to say it. Otherwise, it would always be bothering her. "What if someday you start thinking like them? I'm a Muggle-born, Sev. A Mudblood."

When she said those last words, she realized that that was one of her darkest fears. That one day Severus would no longer want to be her friend. That he would suddenly turn his back on her because of her blood status, because of them. She was scared to death of him changing because that might mean that, one day, they would be strangers.

"I don't want you to hate me, Sev."

"No," Severus shook his head so fiercely that it startled her. "I could never hate you. Mulciber, Avery… They mean nothing to me. You may be a Muggle-born, Lily Evans, but you're still a witch, a better witch than anyone I know. You're not a Mudblood and I swear that I would never call you that."

His words were fervent and quick and his eyes glittered with an intensity that she would have never thought even he could be capable of. His face betrayed his every emotion, some she could understand, some she could not. More than ever, she was reminded of the young boy who had first told her that she was a witch. The old Sev. Her Sev.

"I believe you," Lily said softly.

Severus looked relieved. "Friends again?" he asked, his black eyes twinkling. He was smiling. A genuine smile that she hadn't seen in a while, a smile that she had almost forgot existed.

Lily smiled back. She knew that he was remembering the aftermath of their very first fight. They had promised to never argue again. That promise had crumbled, but Lily had a feeling that this one would not. "Always."

There was not a cloud in sight. Only the sun shone above them, bathing the playground in a golden glow. There was the rustle of grass, the distant chirp of birds, whispering their morning song in harmony. The playground was deserted, except for the two occupied swings, grating merrily as they swung to and fro, high in the air.

It was a perfect summer day.