Title: Regrets

Author: FireOpal

SummaryTheir hair mingled, tickling her face, bright sunlight shining merrily off of hers, setting it aflame against the cold frozen snow. Emerald eyes sparkled suggestively as he drew back, and she grinned. – Regrets are like illnesses, the more you have, the worse you feel, and some stay with you for a long time.

Pairing(s): SS/LP(E)

SONGFIC – 'What If?' by Kate Winslet.

F/N: Another one, my friends! Today we have an oddly inspired one – for three days, three long whole days this song and idea have flitted around my head, demanding to be written. It's not quite how I imagined it, but, after some thought, it's probably better! This song is so beautiful, and perfectly captured this idea to me. It's quite a sad one I'm afraid, with non-canon ideas. I even spent a sleepless night the other night (I just couldn't sleep!) thinking of a whole plotline for this, which I could write if prompted… hint-hint! However, my current HP fic, 'Pain, Prophecies and Power' would get main priority, and as would a soon-to-be-posted fic, currently nameless. Ah well, have a read!

11/05/2005 – Amendments made to lyrics when I discovered you weren't allowed to post lyrics in stories! Oops. Full original available via my profile page. Apologies guys.

(Verse 1)

A dark, shadowy figure sat at an ornate and old wooden desk, his head in his hands, greasy black hair lying messily over his pale fingers. He had had That Boy again last lesson, emerald glaring up at him with hatred. To see those eyes look at him so, reminded him forcefully of another pair of eyes, identical to those that flashed with anger. Lily's eyes. Once, she had looked at him with love, understanding, care, but then, one mistake, leading to bigger mistakes, the pebble that creates the avalanche, and those eyes, her eyes glaring at him with disgust and hatred, hurt and pain.

Unknown to Severus Snape, an invisible figure stood in the corner, unable or willing to disturb the depressing silence. In life, she had had long and beautiful hair, golden red and fiery, with expressive green eyes, and a caring face, a loving nature that extended to all - especially the man before her. She was only allowed back once a year, tonight, to see how the world had changed and to see her family. All Hallow's Night, the night she had died, murdered by an evil wizard, dying to protect her young son, she could return. Tonight, she would visit others, but, for now, she remained. And she watched as he stood to pour himself a glass of whiskey, as he did every Halloween Night, and silently toasted her. Once it had embarrassed her, but now it only brought a heart-wrenching sadness, a glimpse at the loneliness of the good man in front of her.

Her husband normally joined her on these excursions, wanting to see his son and his friends. But tonight she was alone, and treasured the chance, the rare opportunity.

Severus sat down, unlocked the bottom drawer of his desk, reached down and removed an ornate silver frame. The picture in it was simple; a man and a woman, smiling, laughing, embracing, the red haired woman leaning over to kiss the black eyed man on the cheek. It had been winter that picture had taken, the Christmas of their seventh year.

Come on, Sev, we need a picture of our final year together, here at Hogwarts! It'll be the last time we can ever do this, please? For me?" The pretty young woman fluttered her golden eyelashes outrageously, and Severus smiled, the small change lighting up his face. They stood, close, his arms loosely around hers, each muffled up warmly – one scarf red and gold, one green and silver. His shiny ebony hair fluttered in the wind, mingling with hers. The woman giggled at the wry grin he pulled, before she took out an overlarge camera, placing it on the grass.

With her wand, she positioned it, levitating it into exactly the right position, and turning it on with a small flick of the end. Severus immediately ambushed his love, picking her up fully in his arms and twirling her around. Shrieks of excited terror mingled with deep laughter, until he put her down, out of breath. She whirled on him, knocking him bodily to the floor, ignoring the snow accumulating on their clothes. Smiling sweetly, she pecked him on the lips before he flipped her over, kissing her just as chastely – on her nose, slightly pink from the cold. Pouting, the woman extracted another laugh from her normally serious love, and he kissed her properly, and gently. Their hair mingled, tickling her face, bright sunlight shining merrily off of hers, setting it aflame against the cold frozen snow. Emerald eyes sparkled suggestively as he drew back, and she grinned.

Suddenly, there was a blinding flash of white light, and an enormous poof of smoke as the camera went off, and they descended into giggles. She pushed him up, and he helped her up, holding out a gentlemanly hand, which she took, and promptly leant over to peck him on the cheek.

He gave the memory a bittersweet tug of his lips, before his eyes sank again. She knew what he would be remembering now, as it was foremost in her mind – long forgiven but not forgotten.

"That Potter's still after you, isn't he?" a black haired teen asked seriously. Lily looked away, knowing her eyes would betray the truth. He let out his breath in one explosive sigh, banging his hand gently on the tabletop. It didn't help his frustration.

"He'll get fed up of it after a while, he'll move onto another." Lily said calmly and comfortingly, reaching out to touch his hand. Her eyes were soft and compassionate, despite her anger at the brash teen that did everything possible to hurt her love.

"He won't." Severus said harshly, pulling his hand back. Anger flared in the fiery young woman.

"He can do whatever he wants, I will never go to him." Severus avoided her eyes. Icy coldness sinking in her stomach, she stood and spoke coldly, thankful that the library was empty in this secluded corner. "I see. You don't trust me. Well, if that's the way it is, then I'd better run along, hadn't I? Don't want to stay where I'm not trusted."

"Lily-"Severus said, looking up with shocked eyes.

"No." she said angrily, her eyes flashing. "You have shown time and time again that you can't trust me to ignore Potter, so I think it's time we left this. Goodnight Severus."

(Pre-Chorus)

Lily berated herself angrily as she remembered looking back at the door where Severus couldn't have seen her, and the way he placed his head in his hands, his world breaking, his heart torn in two. She hadn't meant to say that, she knew his mother was dead and his father was working for Voldemort, pressuring his son to do something he didn't want to do, and on top of being shunned by the school, he was desperately lonely, crying out for contact, for love. She had given him this, and torn it away, blinded by one stupid argument. Or maybe it was two.

(Chorus)

It was a different time, a different place. A lone figure stood outside in the deep snow, cloaked and obvious against the beautiful white backdrop. It was just after Christmas, a lonely Christmas, in which his father had called him back to the house for the holidays, taking him away from his home, Hogwarts.

It wasn't yet curfew, and another person walked across to the solitary person hesitantly, hooded so that you couldn't see her trademark red hair. Presently, Severus turned to look expressionlessly at the woman, his onyx eyes pain-filled. She swallowed, and walked closer so that she was stood next to him.

"I-" she started, then summoned up her Gryffindor courage. "I'm sorry. And I didn't mean what I said. I was just annoyed, and took it out on you, and I'm really sorry." She lowered her head, letting one sparkling teardrop from her closed eyes. Tentatively, he reached a hand to brush it off of her face, the watery diamond shining in his hand for a few seconds. She looked up at his touch, and took his hand as he withdrew it, gently. Her warm hand was soft against his cold pale fingers, and she could tell he had been standing out here for a while.

"I'm sorry." Was all he said, averting his eyes to hide his own tears. Lily wrapped him in a loose hug, drawing back as he winced and breathed in sharply at her touch.

"What's wrong?" she said concernedly, her eyes searching his expressionless face. Still he avoided her eyes, and clutched his right forearm tightly, biting his lip. Carefully, she reached out to remove his cloak, to see what the problem was, but he batted her hand away harshly, stepping back. "What's the matter?" she repeated; worry growing in her. As he continued to avoid her contact, she withdrew her wand, muttering a few choice words that made his arms snap around his back, his cloak to sweep over his shoulder, and his sleeve to brush up his thin arm. What she saw made her stagger backwards, her eyes hurt and shocked and disgusted.

It was the Dark Mark, searing a deep and evil black on the pale skin, reddened by pain. Severus flinched back, and sprang out of the spells, roughly ripping his sleeve back down and his cloak tightly around his shoulders. Without a word, she fled back to the castle, tears streaking her face and ignoring the anguished cries from behind her, and the tears he shed.

(Verse 2)

Lily closed her eyes against the memory, but it was useless. How was she to know that his father had dragged him in front of the Dark Lord, threatening his own son with torture and death if he didn't do as he was told. All she knew was the Dark Mark, scarring his arm and ruining his life, their love. Any chance of happiness for Severus was cut short that day, and the years were long and hard upon him before he had the courage to go to Dumbledore and start the dangerous game. Maybe he had thought she would return to him, understand if he proved to her that he hadn't wanted it, never wanted it, but it was in vain.

She had done what she had sworn many times to not do – in her shock and despair, she had turned to Potter, revelling in his love and adoration, but never being able to return it. The goofy teen had taken her out, the school had sighed over the 'perfect couple' and her friends had cheered her on. All feelings for the dark eyed watcher who hid in shadows where hidden underneath this crushing weight of peer pressure and unrequited love, and only appeared in the dark of night where her soul cried out for love. Then he proposed to her, and, in a fit of anger maybe, she had answered yes, and they became the perfect couple, the vanguard fighters of the Light - the handsome, rich, pureblooded Auror and his beautiful, kind, loving wife.

(Pre-chorus)

Then, when he had gone off to fight some battle or other, and she was left at home alone, those feelings she had buried had resurfaced like some lake monster, waiting to strike. In a flurry of urgent need, she had fled to his house, confronted by the pale man she had so long yearned. He had let her in, surprised to say the least, and she had poured her heart out to him, not caring if he truly believed in the ideals of his master and wanted her dead, just wanting, needing the love she had once shared. Somehow, in the night, he had taken her to bed, and what they shared was wonderful, like reconnecting a piece of her. When she had woken in the morning, shocked by her actions and dreading others' knowledge, she had whispered her vow of love and silent apologies to her sleeping love, tears streaming her cheeks as she cleverly obliviated him.

(Chorus)

The result was a healthy young boy some nine months later. With his mothers' bright emerald eyes and ebony hair, he was easily mistaken for James' son, and she took every pain to ensure it stayed that way. After many months of research, she had found a spell that would mould itself to the young infant and make him take on the appearance of another. Intending to remove it once the war was over, or her son was old enough to understand, she cast the spell, and revelled in her position as wife to James Potter, and father of his child, until they were forced into hiding by Dumbledore, for reasons he would not explain.

A year later, they were found. Voldemort himself blasted into their home, slaughtering her husband and murdering her as she protected her son, their son. Hoping the ancient magic would be enough to save his life, she threw herself in front of him, and felt the blast of emerald light, but also the warmth and tingle as the magic left her to guard her child.

(Pre-chorus)

And now, her son, her beautiful son – despite his fathers' appearance – was sixteen, thrown in the middle of events he didn't understand and a war he should never have had to fight, not knowing his own father, not knowing that he loathed the very man who created him.

Severus fought the tears as he thought back to his beloved Lily, and her son, with her beautiful eyes, her eyes staring out of his face – Potters' face. He owed everything to Lily, and meant to treat her son well, but as soon as he had seen him at that first Welcoming Feast, he had been Potter's son, not Lily's son, and an overwhelming surge of hatred had grown within him, and remained to this day.

"Oh Lily." He whispered brokenly, rubbing his hands tiredly over his face. It was true – loneliness and solitude and hatred aged you faster than any length of time, and it seemed to have treated him the worst. If only he'd not argued, if he'd believed her, believed his heart, and told her of his fathers' plans, Dumbledore could maybe have let him stay at Hogwarts. Life without the Dark Mark…

When she heard his hushed cry, her heart cried.

"Severus." She replied, knowing he would not hear her, would never hear her until her joined her in death. A tear fell from her eyes, but there was no one there to brush it away for her.

(Pre-chorus)

If only she'd listened, cared, helped, understood, stayed by his side, none of the would have happened. For one fleeting second, she imagined a house, Severus' house, with him standing at the door, his arms around her shoulders, a smile on his face. Two children would play in front of them, one boy, green eyed with his father's black hair, the other a girl with dark red hair and dark black eyes, eyes that sparkled. His eyes. If she had stayed…

(Chorus)