A Life worth living: an Edward and Severus friendship story

by bumblebee88888

Brother story to 'Leave Me' . On the night of Lily's death, Edward and Severus meet. 14 years later they meet again during Harry's 5th year. See how the Cullens' presence affects Severus and alters the future of the Wizarding World. Edward's POV. NOT slash. Canon compatible. WIP. Please read and review :)

4. Chapter 3 Forgiveness

Author's note: Firstly, it's wonderful to finally be able to write again. I missed my stories and readers SO much! My fingers have been itching for ages to continue writing, this story especially.

So welcome back to 'A life worth living'. I am SO sorry to leave you hanging for the conversation between Severus and Edward- uni work consumed all of my time, so I literally had no time to spend writing. Thank you all for being so patient with my updates; I could not have asked for more respectful readers.

My plan will be to update regularly from now until end of February 2013 (except over a couple of weeks in early January). How I plan to do this is to write shorter chapters so I can update more frequently. We'll see how that goes!

Having said that, this chapter is very long, so I hope that somewhat makes up for the lack of updates over the last few months.

Before we get into it, I just wanted to mention a slight change I made to Chapter 2 of this story. Originally, the chapter ended with Edward turning the door handle and entering the bar. However, I since decided to have Edward ponder for a bit longer about what he was going to do before walking into the bar. Consequently, I changed the ending of Chapter 2 slightly so Edward turns the doorknob, but does not walk in.

That's all I'll say for now

I hope you enjoy Chapter 3- Forgiveness.

Happy reading!

'A life worth living'

Chapter 3- Forgiveness

Edward's POV

I felt the rough brass beneath my hand as I held onto the door handle, unable to enter the pub due to the thoughts of the grieving man within. The intensity of his pain literally prevented me from moving. Would I even be capable of speaking to him when I found it so difficult to function in his presence? His agonywas overwhelming him, tumbling in relentless waves as they crashed into his chest. When I felt a moment's reprieve, a renewed blanket of irrepressible sadness stronger than the wave before, would consume both of us. It would have been simple for me to walk away for a few minutes to escape his grief, but this man could not. I had to pause to consider what I would ultimately be requesting of him: to endure this paralysing grief for perhaps the rest of his life in exchange for the freedom of others. I knew it would be unjust and unfair to expect such a tremendous sacrifice to be made by a human, even if he was able to alter the future in such a significant way. I knew myself and Jasper would struggle surviving with such emotions- such despair- such hopelessness.

The loss of a mate in our species almost equated to death. This man's love for Lily was not likely to be as deep or as whole as vampires love their mates, but he most certainly loved her, and it was not my place to dictate how much grief he should be able to cope with. Although I did not know what it meant to love as deeply as this man, my siblings, or my parents, if Carlisle were extricated from the world, I knew I would struggle to continue my existence. So, as I stood at the door, my hand still poised on the handle, I considered once again whether it would be right to force the lives of others onto this man's shoulders when he believed his own was not worth living. Should I be meddling with the fate he has chosen for himself? Many questions with endless possible answers continued to develop in the recesses of my mind.

Within a second I was able to form a conclusion I felt comfortable with: No, I had no right, but I did have a responsibility to inform him of what I knew. It was imperative this be done without putting my species or his at further risk. Before Alice left, my plan was to inform him discreetly of what she had Seen. At that particular point in time, she saw that such knowledge would sway the man's decision, so the future of his neighbours remained peaceful and free. But I did not know then how I would approach the topic or exactly what I would say. I could not simply burden him with such a revelation; some small talk would need to be involved. Without Alice close at hand, I needed to be cautious; even small talk could lead to catastrophic consequences…

I knew Alice was watching my future wherever she was, but unfortunately she was beyond the reach of my gift. When Jasper was ready, I knew they would both return to the pub where I could utilise both of their gifts once again. Until that time came, however, I was resolved to be cautious. I also hoped to calm or distract this man from his grief so Jasper could endure being in his presence.

Easier said than done, I sighed to myself, wondering whether a conversation with him could distract me from the physical pull his emotions had on me.

Nevertheless, I forced myself forward causing the door to creak quietly open barely more than an inch. My family's breathing had ceased as they waited for the door to swing open and the beginnings of conversation. However, I found my legs unable to move forward; my mind was suddenly bombarded with multiple images.

What's wrong, Edward? Esme asked me through her thoughts, concerned that my rigidity meant I sensed danger.

"Nothing," I whispered so quietly a human could not have heard, as I struggled to cope with the numerous, vivid, and emotionally laden images of Lily Potter that infiltrated my mind.

God he missed her deeply- a pining so intense I wished my conscience would allow me to walk away just to end my own agony.

He was reliving the precious moments he had with her, and hoped his death would reunite him with the woman he loves. However, he believed it unlikely; she would be in Heaven, a place he felt he would not be welcome. I closed my eyes in recognition of the similarity this traumatised man had with me as I too believed I was unworthy of a place amongst those with full, untarnished souls.

However, this was where our similarities ended; I have never loved as keenly as him, and he could not have killed as many as I have during my existence. I saw no reason why Heaven would not welcome him- his soul was not maimed or destroyed or absent as mine was…

I could hear my family shifting their weight behind me; disconcerted by my tensed stature and silence. However, their thoughts barely registered in my mind in comparison to the sorrow and longing I felt pull at me from within the pub. The man's favourite memory of Lily was crystal clear in his mind: she was perhaps fourteen with the bright green, almond shaped eyes and long red hair I now associated with Lily Potter. Her face was glowing with a dazzling smile and she appeared to be kindly teasing him about one thing or another. My mind registered that she was beautiful and happy, but my dead heart felt unnaturally heavy and empty, just as his did. Moments when he was not mentally and physically in an unrelenting turmoil, this poor man was completely numb. I could not decide which was worse.

I was grateful Jasper was still in the car; he did not need to feel this- this ache that made me want to release the door, walk down the stairs and drive away from this man's overwhelming grief. But there were greater issues of importance, ones that extended beyond any of our discomfort. My conscience would not let me escape.

In an attempt to distract my mind from the near physical burden his thoughts had on me, I redirected my focus to the bartender's perspective so I could look at the man through his eyes. Thankfully, the bartender was watching his customer which allowed me to see the man without being physically present. Through the bartender's human eyes I could a thin, pale man who was slouched over his glass. I could barely see his face, so I could not determine how old he was. I supposed I would have time to determine that later. His hair was shoulder length, straight and black. There was a strange sheen to it, and I wondered if it was greasy, wet, or perhaps a trick of the light. His long white fingers gripped his glass tightly, and their occasional movement was the only sign this man was even alive. He was almost a shell, and given the intensity of his thoughts and emotions, I was not surprised. Nevertheless, it was difficult to see someone, even a stranger, look so incredibly hopeless. And yet, the bartender believed this man was simply shy, and perhaps antisocial. To most people who were not privy to his inner torture, the man would appear to be introverted and perhaps tired. Thus, a part of me was impressed by this wizard; how could he be in so much pain and yet remain eerily composed? This was quite extraordinary for a human; if his feelings were my own, I would be pulling at my hair or inflicting some other form of physical injury merely to lessen my emotional agony.

I had been so focused on the man who occupied most of my attention that I had not given much thought to the other human in the building. Thankfully, neither occupant had noticed that the door had been cracked open slightly, nor that someone was standing on the top step. I hoped to keep it that way until I could gain further knowledge about the bartender. Unlike his customer, the tender's mind was quite comfortable to reside in; his thoughts were gentle and non-judgemental, which I suppose would work to his advantage as the owner of a bar.

The other man's thoughts distracted me, as I saw the same memory of the young, fourteen year old Lily once again. As he took another drink, I felt his brief pang of hope that soon he would see her beautiful face again and be forgiven for what he had done…

What had he done? I pondered, attempting to understand his thoughts as I remembered back to when we were in Godric's Hollow, but nothing came to mind. This boy was not present when Lily and James Potter were murdered, so how could he be involved?

Within seconds I felt as if my stomach sank in on itself. I knew this meant the man was about to relive his part in her death. I tensed in anticipation of the renewed grief, and the impending addition of remorse and guilt to the already overwhelming concoction of emotions this man was experiencing.

The image of Lily disappeared and was replaced with a looming, tall dark figure who possessed a flattened nose and snake-like eyes. I was certain this was not the natural form of the dark wizard's face. The man recalled greeting the other as 'My Lord', after which he proceeded to tell his master about a prophecy he had heard. From what I could understand through the cryptic wording of the prophecy, the Dark Lord's 'match' would be a boy, born at the end of July ('as the seventh month dies') to parents who have escaped this dark wizard three times ('thrice defied him'). I waited, hoping to discover who it referred to, but the man pushed the memory aside.

An overwhelming feeling of hate- not towards the dark wizard, but towards himself arose within him; for speaking, for being so thoughtless, for being a Death Eater to begin with.

It was no wonder he was in so much agony; he was not merely grieving- he did not simply miss her, he hated himself for 'causing' her death.

Although his self-hate was unmistakable and almost as strong as his grief, I could not share his hatred. I and anyone else who understood this man would know he told his master the prophecy without knowing it could have referred to his beloved Lily.

She would still be alive, he reprimanded himself angrily, his face tightening slightly at the thought. But he was being relentless in the numerous attacks he forced upon his conscience. It was clear to me now that his mission for this' Dark Lord' was to share the words of that prophecy, so he should not be punishing himself for speaking. To think he was thoughtless was harsh on his part; I doubt he would have acted without thinking. As to being a Death Eater, the name given to a follower of this 'Dark Lord', I had no doubt he had reasons for joining that side…

But these facts were ultimately irrelevant to his self-perceived betrayal of Lily Potter and his hand in her death. Somewhere in the depths of his despair, he must have known, as I did, that he would have taken the words of that prophecy to his grave if he knew who it referred to. His love for this girl was worth more than his own life. Not even I knew of the love he felt towards the late Lily Potter except vicariously through my mated family members.

Now that she was gone, there was no one else in his life, no one to love or sacrifice himself for. No one would ever need or want anything from him.

Or so he believed.

I wanted something from this man, but having been so focused on his mind and the bartender's for ten minutes, so much time had already been wasted. I wanted to act quickly before the alcohol spiralled him so deep into his grief that nothing could bring him out. But I also needed to wait for Alice to return so I could use her gift to proceed safely. I reminded myself that my goal was to calm or distract the man from his emotions so Jasper, and thus Alice, could be near him again.

Taking a deep unnecessary breath, I turned around to glance at my family, grateful that they had trusted me when I said "nothing" was wrong. Nevertheless, they were watching me apprehensively.

"I will not be long," I reassured them.

Rosalie snorted. Sure, if you ever manage to walk through the door.

I ignored her snarky remark. Her husband on the other hand gave me the thumbs up, but his thoughts reflected his concern; Rose, Carlisle, Esme, and he were still uncertain what lay waiting for me inside the bar. Those who did know what was at stake were presumably in a car five hundred feet away.

I attempted to ignore his concerns as I gave Carlisle a brief nod, and smiled at my mother before I resumed pushing the door. This time I allowed myself to enter.

Immediately I altered my features so I would appear to be a well mannered young man looking for a quiet bar in which to drink. Now that I had gained enough information from the ten minutes I had to survey the minds of both the bartender and his customer, I could now act my part. I gave a polite smile to the bartender as I entered the bar and closed the wooden door quietly behind me.

Woah, another customer, the bartender thought in surprise, but was nevertheless pleased to see me. The man, who was sitting at the end of the bar furthest from the door, did not look at up at me, too observed in his internal Hell. But the bartender approached me immediately, a gentle smile on his face. He attempted to ignore the unease he felt in his stomach when he was close enough to see my unnaturally honey coloured eyes and too perfect face and skin. However, he would not allow neither his suspicion nor his fear prevent him from welcoming me in his usual polite and friendly manner. Perhaps some would perceive this as foolish, but I knew he was astute and vigilant beneath his friendly façade. Thankfully, he did not attempt to guess what I was, and as long as I did not mention my strange appearance to him, I was certain he would keep his belief that I was 'from another world' to himself.

"Good evening," he welcomed me gesturing towards the various seats scattered throughout his bar.

"Good evening," I returned politely as I sat on the stool almost directly in front of him, about six stools down from his other customer. I looked into the bartender's eyes which were warm brown in colour. He appeared to be in his mid to late fifties given the few wrinkles on his face which otherwise appeared kind and jovial. I was not sure how he could maintain such apparent enthusiasm for life when this place seemed so drab and quiet. But perhaps he enjoyed living in a small, quiet town.

"What can I get you?" he asked me. Seems to be a sherry kind of guy, he guessed, and I could tell he always made to guess the type of drink his customers go for before they make their order.

I had no intention of drinking whatever I ordered, so decided to humour him.

"A sherry please," I requested.

Smiling at his 'correct' guess, the bartender turned around to pour my drink.

"I must admit I am relieved you are still open," I begun, talking to his back. "I did not think there were any pubs around here, let alone one that would still be open at 9pm on a Tuesday night."

The bartender chuckled, his shoulder length, wispy gray hair moving with his laughter.

"Well you are in luck," he informed me, placing the glass of deep red wine in front of me. I successfully hid my smile when I noticed how much this drink looked like my usual diet. The bartender then leaned towards me and whispered: "The boy down there entered my bar just as I was about to close it."

I turned to my right to follow his gaze and briefly glanced at the deceptively calm 'boy' who was still staring at his glass.

"I see. Well I plan on thanking him for his apt timing," I informed the barkeeper quietly in response.

"Well I owe thanks to you both, especially him," he continued to whisper, pointing his thumb in the boy's direction. "He is on his eighth bourbon and somehow does not appear any worse for wear."

I looked at the boy again. Eight liquors? I tried to estimate his height, which was slightly difficult given he was sitting down. Probably about 5' 9" and a slight build. He should be drunk by now. I considered whether wizards were more resistant to the effects of alcohol, and concluded it was possible. However, given the boy originally intended to drink himself to death, I felt this unlikely.

"That is quite extraordinary," I muttered, widening my eyes to show him how impressed I was.

"Indeed," he agreed wholeheartedly with me, and I was pleased that he seemed to like me in spite of the continued squirming in his stomach. This man had good instincts for a human.

"So what brings you to Spinner's End this time of night?" he questioned me, clearly keen for conversation after the endless silence his other customer would have given him.

To prevent your other customer from poisoning themselves to death, I thought, smiling grimly to myself.

"No particular reason," I informed him, and then forced a sigh out of my mouth, "I haven't had a good day and needed a place to go."

"Well you have come to the right place," he smiled at me, hoping good naturedly that I intended on getting drunk like my fellow customer. I smirked to myself wondering what he would think and do if he knew I had no intention to drink, and that the only substances that could intoxicate me were warm and freely available from his body.

"Thank you, uh…" I prompted the man, hoping to get his name. This would hopefully give Alice a way of monitoring the future of this town after we leave England.

"Rod," the man introduced himself, holding out his hand, "Rod Taylor."

"Edward," I replied as we shook hands.

"Do you feel cold?" he asked me, having felt the icy sting of my skin against his own, "I have a heater here-"

"Oh no, I am perfectly fine; I always have cold hands," I convinced him easily.

"Ah, well let me know if you need it," Rod offered kindly.

To my surprise, the grieving man had managed to ignore our entire conversation. This would not have been difficult given he was trapped somewhere in the depths of his personal Hell. However, when he realised he had consumed his drink, he was forced to pay attention to Rod and me. This was the first time since being in his presence that something other than Lily was the focus of his thoughts.

I decided to take this opportunity to speak with him whilst I had the chance. When he rested his dark eyes on my golden ones, I heard and felt how much he resented me for interrupting his sanctuary and occupying the bartender who was maintaining his peace. He hoped I would not be there much longer.

"Excuse me," Rod muttered, before making his way to the other end of the bar. He hoped I did not think him rude for leaving our conversation, which of course, I was far from thinking.

I watched the boy's gaze as it shifted from me to Rod so he could order his ninth bourbon.

With his gaze averted, I finally had the opportunity to subtly observe the man using my heightened eyesight. I now understood why Rod referred to his other customer as a 'boy'; he was one, perhaps twenty or twenty one years of age. I had to take a couple of seconds to consider how this altered my perception of this boy.

How could one so young love this deeply? How is it that after living a mere twenty years on this earth, he was ready to die?

This boy is too young to take his life, I concluded, wishing that fact was enough to convince him. However, the information I had gathered when I was standing outside the pub suggested that this boy either loved Lily Potter that much, hated himself that much, or had experienced too much too young to know of the intrinsic meaning of life. Unfortunately, my instinct told me it was a combination of all three. What had happened to this young man that rendered him so hopeless now? Lily must have been everything to him.

With a full glass sitting comfortably in his hands, the boy resumed drinking, his dark curtain of hair falling over his face as he bent over to take a sip. Rod was standing in between the two of us from his side of the bar, and I knew he was watching me observe the boy. Rod decided to join me; still marvelling at the boy's drinking capacity as he calculated at what point the boy should have become visibly intoxicated.

I recalled the first memory I had of this boy's face when he glared at me for invading on his sanctuary. I recalled his eyes being black, but they were also detached from the resentment I felt in his thoughts and his body. This was his way of protecting the vulnerable interior that lay beneath the stilled calm of his body. Anyone would feel safer if everyone around them believed they were angry or indifferent, and this was his defence- his protection from the world. Somehow, I needed to find a way to penetrate his façade; I would not be able to alter the future if all I had to work with was his mask of anger.

The boy looked towards me then. Although he was slightly unnerved that I was watching him, his thoughts were preoccupied with my appearance. This boy, who had almost nine bourbons in him, noticed my unnaturally bright honey coloured eyes and my smooth skin. He concluded I was foreign; no one like me lived in England apparently.

Taking another sip of his drink, the boy pulled his gaze away from mine, feeling slightly uncomfortable. However, when he did not hear a conversation begin between myself and Rod, he could not help but glance at me again.

He appears to be from another world, the boy pondered to himself. And powerful, he concluded as he eyed my physique and my posture, his mouth open slightly.

Originally his insights amused me, and I smiled without thinking, forgetting momentarily that he was not aware of my gift. He had noticed my grin, but when I returned my features back to a neutral position, he assumed I was simply amused by his facial expression which was reminiscent of a gold fish. Clearly this boy was observant and intelligent; I could not take it for granted that he was intoxicated. In fact, I was willing to bet he would remember everything tomorrow morning… assuming he lived.

His interruption of my conversation with Rod was something I still needed to address. This was especially vital given his curiosity surrounding my appearance was quickly fading in favour of the frustration and resentment he felt moments before. Then he began to question whether I was there to stare or to drink.

I knew I needed to engage him, and take a sip of drink… to keep up appearances.

"I was talking to the bartender a moment ago-" I finally spoke into the silent bar.

Shocking, the man thought immediately, his brain still alert despite the many glasses of bourbon he had consumed. Although my apparent stupidity frustrated him, at least he was paying attention to me.

"He told me," I continued, ignoring his thoughts "that you entered this pub just before he was about to close it. I thank you; I was hoping this place would still be open," I lied smoothly, my tone one of gentle gratitude. Considering the boy was not looking at me, I took a first sip of my drink and then returned the glass loudly to the bench so the boy heard that I was there to 'drink'.

In response to my statement, the man gave his glass a single nod, refusing to answer me; he hoped our conversation was over.

He was very wrong.

Nevertheless, I knew it would not be wise to push my luck this early in our acquaintance, so I stayed silent for a while to humour him, giving him time to analyse me and form a conclusion regarding my accent, origin, and level of education. I successfully suppressed my smirk when he concluded with certainty that my polite manner and mature tone indicated I was older than I looked.

Indeed, I chuckled to myself.

Despite this conclusion, he still believed I was a boy, and I found it amusing that we both silently refer to the other as 'the boy'.

In the mean time, my family were directing their attention to every single murmur made by the two beating hearts belonging to the humans near me. This was the only way they could monitor my safety without entering the pub themselves. To mask the extent of their concentration, my family engaged in a flawless trivial conversation so onlookers would assume they were a group of friends conversing. Beneath the discussion regarding an end of year holiday to France was their distress that I had entered a human dwelling without informing them why.

Alice and Jasper were still absent. I assumed they were in the car recovering from what they had seen and felt. I hoped within the next five minutes I would be able to see and hear Alice and Jasper's minds again. I would feel safer. In the mean time, I allowed my other family member's thoughts reassure me that so far, things were going as well as could be expected.

To encourage Jasper's presence, I attempted to divert the man's focus completely on to me.

"I haven't had the best day," I confided in boy, as I stared sadly at my glass. He sighed in frustration, his hope that our conversation had ended was fading away. However, he felt it was imperative that he answer me before I could tell him my whole 'life story'.

I tried to maintain indifferent when he wondered what he did to deserve such a torturous companion. I tensed momentarily, feeling guilty that I was taking his peace away from him. I forced myself to relax and wait for him to respond to me.

"Neither have I," he eventually slurred his reply. Only realising then how drunk he was, the boy resolved to be silent in case he revealed something of his world to myself and Rod.

Conversely, I wished he was sufficientlyintoxicated not to inhibit his thoughts and feelings; any additional defence he put in place would only made my job more difficult.

"That is why we are here, I suppose," I responded under my breath trying to form a connection- a similarity between the two of us, "in an attempt to forget it all."

To make the pain go away until I can truly forget via the process of death, the boy thought to himself, and I could relate to his wish on some level. I tried to imagine what it would feel like to be responsible for Carlisle's death. Given the preserved memories vampires are known for, I would never be able to forget what I had done. At least this boy had death as an option; such an end was barely possible for any of our kind. So my last hope would be to get drunk- perhaps on human blood, so the animalistic side of my being would dominate my humanity. I would live off my instincts for the rest of my existence…

I shook my head, forcing myself to return to the present where Carlisle was still alive and concerned for me as he, and most of my family, anxiously waited outside.

"Unfortunately, alcohol his only a temporary solution," I mumbled casually under my breath, and then took another swig from my glass. "Some things you will never forget no matter how much you consume," I continued wistfully, which was difficult given that Emmett was struggling to stifle a laugh outside. Of course, I could never forget anything, but that was beside the point.

True, the man thought to himself. This was why he wanted to die; it was his only means of escape.

"But," I sighed, trying to release some of the tension in my body, "I suppose we are not meant to forget. Those memories are what motivate me to make amends for my mistakes. It is almost impossible to feel like it's enough. But it is all I can do for now, and I suppose I must be satisfied with that…" I shook my head with sadness, as my mind reminded me of my own history and what I had done in the past. Although I was merely trying to converse with the man to get him talking, I had unknowingly vocalised my own feelings. I tried to cover up this revelation by drinking yet again, and was satisfied when I discovered that my statement had elicited the man's attention.

What is he trying to redeem himself for? The man wondered, and indeed, Rod was thinking the same thing. Not daring to speak out loud, the boy concluded that my attractive features gave me the resources I needed to reverse my error.

The curiosity exhibited by the two humans in my presence was unmistakeable. However, the confusion that clouded the minds of my family had caused them all to stiffen. All of them had correctly assumed that I had just informed two strangers of the guilt I experienced after leaving Carlisle and Esme in pursuit of defying my father's way of life. Their surprise and confusion was understandable; I had never told them exactly what I did in my weeks of absence, and they knew better than to ask me about it now; it was over seventy years ago. Within seconds, they became intrigued by my approach to the conversation I was having.

What is he doing? Rosalie wondered, half angry and half frustrated that she did not know the answer.

Oh, Edward, Esme sighed sympathetically, and I saw through Rose's eyes that my mother had grasped my father's hand, their sadness reflected in both of their eyes.

Having sensed and observed our family's discomfort from the car, Jasper and Alice decided they were ready to expose themselves to whatever was happening in the pub. At human speed, Alice and Jasper approached our family- the staged conversation they had originally carried was now forgotten. Pleased to see Alice and Jasper again, my family quietly vocalised their joy, each of them wishing one of them would explain what I was doing. Before they could be asked, Alice foresaw their question, and led Jaz to a nearby row of hedges behind which they hid. I knew this was a tactful move on Alice's behalf, and I was grateful for her intervention; I did not need the rest of my family to be worried for my life.

Thankful that my gifted siblings were within the range of my gift once again, I utilised Alice's to determine whether I should ask him what he was trying to forget (through the process of death). Seeing that no harm would come of the question (which was as much as I could hope for), I resumed my conversation with the boy.

"What are you trying to forget?" I asked him quietly, softening my gaze slightly so as to not intimidate him.

"Everything," he informed me immediately, despite his multiple attempts to avoid speaking. Surprised by his genuine response and honesty, I found myself tilting my head slightly with curiosity. However, this caused the boy to turn away from me; he could no longer endure the intensity of my expression.

I nodded in understanding.

"And how is that working out for you?" I asked him sympathetically knowing already that alcohol had done little to rid him of his memories or his grief. Nevertheless, I hoped that if I showed I cared, this may encourage him to talk.

"I still remember my name so not too well," he snapped at me in frustration.

"Your life cannot be that terrible," I challenged him gently, hoping my query would elicit some of his past so I had a better understanding of exactly what he has suffered. Automatically I leaned towards him hoping it would encourage him to open up to me, so we could openly talk about his feelings and his intentions.

Within seconds, I saw the man grip his glass tightly in response to my statement. He then moved away from me slightly, and I knew I had angered him with my presumption. He was doing well to control it given how many drinks he had had. The bartender was becoming wary too as he cautiously stared between myself and my reluctant companion.

"Careful, Edward," Jasper whispered from outside; he must have felt the man's anger as clearly as I could see it. His jaw was clenched, but it was also moving as if forcing himself not to tell me every ounce of evidence he felt would be necessary to convince me that his life really was thatterrible.

For what must have been no more than five seconds, I saw glimpses of someone floating upside down in mid air, the Dark Lord, and Lily's lifeless green eyes, before they disappeared. This boy had incredible control over his emotions, and soon he had calmed himself down knowing he could not tell me about any of the memories he briefly recalled. Little did he know I already knew about two of the three.

Taking a deep breath, he informed me calmly:

"You know nothing of my life."

I bowed my head towards my glass acknowledging his assertion even though I actually knew more of his life than he could ever imagine. Nevertheless, I went along with him:
"Well I know you are attempting to drown yourself in alcohol. Given that I wish to do the same, there must be something we have in common- something about your life that I can understand," I offered him, feeling hopeful that he will give me something- anything for me to use to remind him his life was worth living.

In response to my statement, I heard Esme whisper: "Good try, Edward." My family all hoped it would have been fruitful as the hour was getting closer to ending and I felt I had achieved nothing except make him angry at me.

"What it means to be drunk," he told me, feeling that the sensation of intoxication was the only connection we shared.

Well he was most certainly wrong about that.

Nevertheless, I chuckled at his answer, not daring to mention exactly what I drink that gives me any sense of intoxication.

"Hmmm yes," I agreed with him, "though I imagine our reasons for desiring such an existence are not wholly different," I wondered out loud, hoping my statement would help him consider how else we may be similar.

"Are you incapable of drinking in silence?" he hissed at me. I stared at him for a moment as I gathered the thoughts of my family outside and Rod behind the bar.

I could tell that I was pushing the man to the brink of his patience- that he truly, as I have always known, wanted to drink in peace. My family's minds were as alert as ever, listening intently to everything within. Alice could not see anything significant occurring as a result of the man's latest outburst, only that eventually the humans living in Spinner's End would be safe from torture and slavery. Relieved that that future was still within her sights, I focused back on the minds within the bar. Rod was concerned that I had unknowingly engaged the quiet man in a discussion that may lead to a bar fight. Somehow Rod knew that if a fight were to occur, he would be unable to stop it. He was right about that.

Unlike the others around me, the boy had interpreted my pause to mean that I was considering leaving him alone.

Please do, he had begged in his mind. I truly did not like disappointing him.

"No, but usually when I have a few drinks in a bar, I enjoy a chat here and there," I casually told him.

"Well stop looking for it here; there are plenty of other bars in larger towns with other people who I am sure would enjoy your conversation," he said quickly, intentionally praising me in the hope I would leave Spinner's End as my way of thanking him.

"But you do not?" I confirmed with him unnecessarily.

Hell no, he answered me in his head, of course completely oblivious to my being able to hear him.

"No," he answered stiffly.

"Well I am sorry to hear it. Unfortunately, I have no means of transportation otherwise I would leave you to your solitude," I said as a genuine apology of sorts. Emmett snorted quietly.

We'll just ignore the two perfectly working cars at the end of the street.

Indeed we will, Emmett, I thought to myself.

To my surprise, the man thought better of me now that he believed I was not intentionally trying to annoy him. He assumed, incorrectly, that had I possessed a car, I would have left him in peace. But then he remembered I was not leaving and I did not seem inclined to stop talking. His respect for me had quickly dissipated and was replaced with frustration.

"Is this your way of telling me you're not going to shut up?" he slurred at me. He looked at his watch and registered he had one more hour before the poison would be ready to consume, which meant another hour of my company. I tried to remain unaffected when he surmised God was cruel for placing him in my presence.

I tilted my head slightly to my right as I studied his face, pretending to be interested in his expression when in fact I was focusing on his thoughts. He was contemplating leaving the pub. Immediately, Alice's vision reverted back to the horrific future we originally saw.

I cannot let him leave.

But I decided not to move; I still hoped he would eventually come to that conclusion without my assistance.

I continued to focus on the flow of the boy's thoughts as he considered how far he would need to walk home. He then calculated how much bourbon he had consumed and knew he would not be able to escape the pub, without his condition eliciting my help, which he did not want or need. He concluded neither myself nor Rod would let him walk home alone in his current state. The uneasy feeling that I would not allow him to leave the pub at all was a concern the boy attempted to suppress. Upon hearing his reasoning, I felt both concern and admiration towards him. If his fear of my intervention forced him to stay in the bar, I could not argue with that.

Concluding that he must wait me out, the boy turned away from me, wishing I would stop staring at him. He half-heartedly hoped his question regarding my ability to remain silent had rendered me speechless.

Of course, I was not speechless in the sense that he meant. Rather, I was preoccupied with my own thoughts, and my growing frustration with this boy. I should have expected him to be resistant- the alcohol in his system did nothing to lower his inhibition, which was incredibly high. I was running out of ways of 'safely' probing him. Perhaps I needed to accept that in order for the preferred future to be achieved, I needed to be drastic and confronting just to get a reaction from him.

"Why don't you want to talk?" I asked him slowly, in a gentle tone which masked my underlying frustration. The boy intended to ignore me, but the sincerity in my voice made him turn towards me, not with interest but in fury.

"Why do you want to?" he demanded loudly, hoping that if he was rude enough I would stop caring about him. Immediately he tried to reel in his emotions, but his outburst, the loudest of the night so far, had rendered my family tense, and even Rod was considering ending our discussion early and kicking us both out. But a part of him was also curious to know more about both of us, and he wanted to see how it would end.

Covering my own anxiety about the consequences of what I was about to say next, I shrugged and answered him calmly:

"It sometimes helps to talk about things; then it's easier to deal with. Don't you agree?"

The man snorted.

"Never tried, and never intend to," he told me without hesitation, and I was shocked when I learnt through his thoughts that he has not vocalised his feelings for years. "And I'll be damned if I sit here listening to you talk about your life. Speak to the bartender instead, that's why he's here; to listen to pathetic people like you," he asserted harshly, pointing to Rod who felt terrified being brought into our discussion.

Every member of my family hissed in anger, perceiving the man I was trying to save as rude and inconsiderate. Rosalie even wondered whether the man was worth saving with such an attitude. But unlike them, I knew the man was grieving and awaiting his death; arguing with me was not how he planned to spend his final minutes on Earth.

When I was certain my family were not about to enter the pub in my defence, I realised Rod had processed what the man had said and wanted to argue against him in my defence. I held up my hand to indicate I did not want him to interfere. Thankfully, he saw my signal and remained silent; I did not want him involved in this. The boy did not miss this action, and immediately felt threatened by my silent demeanour and slow movements which he interpreted as my preparation to strike him. I saw the boy's hand move subtly towards an inner chest pocket, but then reversed the motion knowing he could not attack me in front of a 'Muggle'. The boy thought I believed he had a gun, which he correctly believed was safer than the weapon he truly possessed. If only he knew how right he was.

Suddenly Rod became my greatest protection; as long as he was there, we would never know how much damage his wand could do to me. As he was moving his hand from out of his robe, the boy realised he could not guarantee being able to perform a memory charm on me given he was intoxicated…

What? Did this mean he could erase our memory so we would be forced to forget he performed magic? Could he do that?

Instantly, I felt anxious; my memory or that of any vampire was one of our assets we took for granted. I could not risk losing my memory under any circumstance. Even if the charm did not work on vampires, I was not willing to find out.
Jasper instantly felt my anxiety and informed our family of it subtly. When Alice looked in my future, she saw momentarily a wand- the boy's wand being pointed at me and she let out an audible, loud gasp. The boy and Rod heard her, and looked towards the window where Alice and Jasper were hiding in the hedges below the sill. Although Alice's reaction was a faint sound to them, it was loud to me. I automatically turned towards the door, knowing my other family members would be in that direction. I did not want to draw attention to where the humans were looking in case they approached the window to investigate the sound. Although I was staring at the door, I was focused on my sister's visions to determine whether I should leave now before a one-sided duel arose.

However, the boy's resolve dissipated quickly, and when Alice's vision once again showed me leaving the pub safely, I turned back around to face the boy. He registered my wariness of him, and I did not mind that my fear was seeping through; it was probably a better option to him thinking I was not scared of him at all. Nevertheless, I still needed to continue our conversation, as risky as that may be.

"Do you think I am pathetic?" I asked him in a non-threatening way as if I were merely curious of his interpretation of me.

"Yes, just drink your damn drink and be done with it!" he yelled at me, but not with the same level of aggression he exhibited before. Nevertheless, he was not at all concerned about hurting my feelings.

"Be done with what?" I asked him, knowing full well what he meant.

"Your talking! No one cares about your life!" he hissed at me, frustrated that I was not backing down.

"No one? Or just you?" I asked him quietly, though I felt my eyes narrow at him, my frustration with him was now beginning to seep through.

The man looked at me and studied my face, the perfect tone of my skin, my bright eyes, my attractive features, and concluded that most people would care about me simply for the way I looked.

I do not have time for this, he muttered to himself. Consequently, he decided not to answer me.

But I was losing my patience with him now. Nothing seemed to be working and I feared I would be unsuccessful.

My next statement came from my most recent plan to be confrontational, but also my suppressed annoyance with the boy I so desperately wanted to help.

"I wonder…" I pondered honestly, "whether anyone cares about your life?" And it was a genuine wonder; was there no one who would miss him?

Offended, the man instinctively went to reach for his wand but stopped before any human would have seen. But of course, I noticed his shaky resolve before he grasped onto the glass in front of him instead, forcing himself to keep his wand safely hidden away. But his anger at me was not because I had offended him with my question, but because he knew the answer and did not care.

"No, no one does," he told me quietly, not feeling the sadness one may have expected to see. Contrary to my plan, this fact made dying easier for him knowing no one would miss him if he went.
But I could not accept that this boy, however he may appear to me now, was so unlikeable.

"Perhaps they would if they knew you," I suggested hopefully.

"Has our little discussion in this bar convinced you that I am someone worth knowing?" he drawled sarcastically, frustrated that I was still so willing to give him the benefit of the doubt despite his attempts to be rude.

I shrugged in response. "I do not make a habit of judging people before I get to know them," I informed him, which of course is the truth; my gift allows me to do this subtly.

"Well you can be certain I am not worth your attention or worth knowing," given this is my last day on Earth, "so do not waste your time speaking with me," he told me forcefully, hoping that this would convince me to leave him in peace.

While Rosalie contemplated whether we were wasting our time, I felt angry with him; did he think I would still be here after twenty minutes of unproductive discussion and useless silences if I believed this was a waste of my time?

"I do not perceive this to be a waste of time," I told him seriously as I struggled to conceive how deeply this boy was consumed by his low self-worth and his grief.

He sounds offended, the boy registered, just before looking up at me for the first time in minutes. Upon looking into my eyes, his black ones boring into mine, he reluctantly concluded that perhaps I did see value in talking with him. Nevertheless, he knew he would be dead within a couple of hours, and he desperately wanted me to know I was wasting my time without having to state why.

"Well you are wasting your time!" he spat at me in spite of the other half of him who believed I had good intentions. But in that moment, he did not care if he was offending a good person; he wanted to be left alone. I tried to ignore the pang in my chest when I realised all I have achieved is to make him more miserable and more eager for death.

"Pour me another," he asked Rod who immediately began to refill his glass.

"Easier to drink than face life, isn't it?" I observed nodding towards his now full class.

Please give me something, I silently begged.

"What would you know of it?" he replied hastily, the recent ingestion of alcohol momentarily controlling his response.

I might as well have asked him to tell me his life story, he realised regretfully.

Unfortunately for him, his error had opened up a new possibility for me. What did I know of drinking- of escaping from emotional agony? Perhaps I needed to share my own experiences with him.

"I told you before that I have made mistakes in my life-" I tried to remind him, but he cut me off in an angry rage.

"Were you a truant? Did you knock up a girl?" he sneered at me, perceiving these errors to be pathetic and inconsequential in comparison to his own. And I completely agreed with him.

I gave him a grim smile to show him that I also did not consider those coming close to what I had done. But how much of my past should I tell him? Enough for it to be believable, but not so much that it was dangerous. I took a couple of seconds to consider what I would tell him: he needed to be able to relate to me, to see that I could understand his pain if he were ever brave enough to speak of it. But at the same time, I needed to be convincing in my words, my behaviour and my expressions. Ultimately, I needed it to be real and believable, so the truth, at least in part, would need to be shared with him. I needed to stop acting and be me.

Alice's vision did not change when I made this decision; it was blurry and unfocused now that the boy was no longer determined to duel me. It was disheartening not to see any changes, but I had to keep trying.

"No, manslaughter actually," I informed him casually, knowing this would get his attention (and unfortunately, Rod's too).

The reaction of everyone in the vicinity was instantaneous, and for a few seconds my mind was overwhelmed with the responses from my family, Rod and the boy next to me.

Carlisle's mind was calm and trusting, however he had incorrectly assumed that I had lost my patience and snapped. I saw Esme clapped her hands to her mouth in shock at what I had said.

Emmett was grinning like a maniac, loving the drama that I had added to the conversation. That was so typical of him.

Rosalie was torn between slapping her husband for accepting what I had said in any way, and vocalising through her thoughts her fierce anger and intense fear that we would be discovered.

Jasper's body became instantly rigid when the words left my mouth. He was unable to speak or move as he focused intently on the boy's fear. And indeed, both of the humans in front of me were terrified for their own safety. Even though I had admitted to manslaughter, not murder (which was actually closer to the truth), they interpreted this to be as good as intentional when they were cooped up in a small dwelling with me- a being they both perceived to be otherworldly and thus potentially threatening.

Alice did not say anything; completely focused on her visions. I heard her breathe a sigh of relief when she finally saw that nothing significant would arise from my statement. Unlike the others, Alice was able to conclude that this was the beginning of my original plan to briefly tell the boy what she Saw, which I supposed it was.

Despite the evident expression of fear on the boy's face, his eyes wide and face tense, I pretended to be ignorant of the rigmarole of emotions squirming his stomach.

"You seem surprised," I concluded indifferently. "Why?" I asked him unnecessarily, not caring that the boy thought I was thick for asking such a question.

"You do not appear to be old enough to commit such a crime," he answered me, and I found this humorous as did Emmett.

If only he knew.

Remembering to be the slightly dangerous part of me rather than the boy who simply wanted to chat, I allowed myself to make eye contact with him as I smiled. I wanted him to feel slightly intimidated.

However, when his heart hitched upon seeing my slightly darker eyes make contact with his, I looked towards the ground in case I terrified him. I did not want him to enter 'flight' mode. But I could not help but release my laughter, making sure I kept my eyes on the ground.

"What's he laughing about?" Rosalie hissed quietly from outside.

"It's funny!" Emmett informed her as if it were obvious.

"It won't be if they call the police because they believe he's a psychopath!" she whispered aggressively at her husband.

"Shhh," Jasper hushed them harshly from the window sill. "Edward is walking a fine line, but he knows this. He is doing well- stop distracting him!"

Rosalie huffed in annoyance, but shut her mouth.

Well done, Edward, Esme encouraged me quietly in her mind, afraid she may distract me like Jaz had suggested. Her thoughts made me laugh even more.

But Rosalie was right to be slightly concerned about my laughter. Originally, I thought I would release a single laugh, but it continued for at least five seconds as my frustration, my hope, and my failures with this boy released themselves from my chest and out of my mouth. The hairs on the boy's neck stood up in response, and I knew he would be paying closer attention to me now. If I had to make him scared of me so he would listen, then that is what I needed to do.

The boy once again considered withdrawing his wand in self-defence; wondering whether I was about to kill him. Although he still intended on taking his own life, he wanted his death to be painless, which he felt it wouldn't be with me. This was not how I wanted the man to feel; only scared, not at risk of dying at my hand. I reworked my face to one of serious concern and then lifted my head to look at him again to continue our conversation before he could misconstrue my intentions further.

"I am older than I look. And despite my appearance, I have killed innocent people," I informed him firmly. Of course, this was a partial lie; the men I killed were all rapists or criminals, and far from innocent, "and life was unbearable for a time… until I realised I could make a difference- make amends for the lives I took," I explained to him slowly, hoping he was able to identify the similarities between my situation and his.

Oh, clever, Rosalie reluctantly thought to herself, now understanding what I was trying to do.

My family knew how guilty I felt for turning on Carlisle's ways and devouring those humans' lives. They all saw the merit in paralleling my experience from roughly seventy years ago to the boy's. However, only Esme and Carlisle saw how I was when I returned to them with human blood on my hands (figuratively speaking) and consumed with guilt. Like this boy, I felt there was nothing I could do to 'right my wrong', until Carlisle managed to convince me that his way of living ensured fewer humans would die to sustain our species. Since that time, I have willingly dedicated my life to the 'vegetarian' style of living in an attempt to balance the prevalence of human lives in the world once again.

"It is impossible to replace someone's life," the man spat at me as he considered what I was implying. Of course, in the literal sense, he was right, but their deaths and the lessons learnt from them should not be wasted. "No matter how sorry you may be, some deaths are unforgivable," he educated me with feeling, hoping I would drop the possibility. But of course, I was not giving up.

"Did you kill someone too?" I asked him, my head tilted to the side in curiosity.

Rod had stiffened at my question, not sure what he would do if both of us were killers. Rod swayed on his feet and felt slightly light-headed when the boy nodded his head.

"Three people," he told me, as he struggled to repress the sob in his throat. In his mind, I saw he was referring to the Potter family.

There were others too, he acknowledged to himself, but they deserved it.

I tried to remain indifferent to this revelation which took me by surprise. How did I not see this in his mind? Clearly, he did not feel guilty for killing anyone except Lily.

Who is this boy? I asked myself, feeling uneasy.

Jasper was confused by my sudden discomfort, but nevertheless tried to calm me through his thoughts and his gift.

You are doing well. We have your back, he reminded me.

Swallowing, I hoped he was right on both accounts as I continued our discussion with vigilance; what else would I find out about this boy tonight?

I covered my shock and merely nodded at him as if the fact he killed three people (and others) did not bother me.

"I have killed eight people," I confided in him.

"Tonight?" the man blurted out before he could stop himself as fear and adrenaline pumped through his veins. He thought I only killed one person, not eight.

I smiled at him, knowing that those eight did in fact die within a period of a week.

"No, but everyday I try to make amends for the loss of their lives," I tell him, and then smiled gently in a way I hoped he would interpret as hopeful rather than a threatening sneer.

The man doubted my sincerity though, believing redemption for such a terrible deed was impossible, but then he recalled my otherworldly air and wondered whether somehow I had found a way of truly amending my errors.

"Is there a point to his conversation?" he eventually asked of me, though he was genuinely curious now as to why I had willingly admitted to him the serious crimes I had committed in the past. "Did you come in here to scare me?" he ventured without meaning to; the fight aspect of his instinct was kicking in.

"I can see you are not, though perhaps you ought to be," I replied with my crooked, genuine smile.

At this, the atmosphere in the bar changed; blood was rushing to their limbs in preparation to run, and their heart beats were pounding in my ears. They no longer felt safe, especially Rod who was surrounded by two people with the capacity to kill.

Rosalie hissed in agitation, fearing my suggestion that they should be afraid would give the intelligent boy one too many hints. Carlisle was similarly cautious. Unfortunately, only Jasper knew what I said was a joke, hence my smile. Feeling I had stepped too far over the line, I begun to soften my face and my body so I did not appear as threatening to the boy.

However, this did not appear to help. The boy remembered the first moment we made eye contact when I was sitting rigid and tense in my chair, like a predator.
And he was my prey.

Despite the incredible fear such an idea would elicit in any normal human, the boy kept a completely neutral face, though his racing heart and slightly shaking hands gave him away. Nevertheless, I was impressed; if I could not hear his racing heart beat or the panicked nature of his thoughts, I would have believed he was fearless of the way I stared at him.

This boy was brave, perhaps foolishly so. However, when he had mastered his indifferent façade, he said smoothly.

"From what you have said, it sounds like you repent the crimes you committed, so at present, I have no reason to fear you." As he spoke, his thoughts constantly reminded him that he was lying; he was terrified.

"Then you have made a wise judgment," I praised him wholeheartedly in an attempt to mask my sincere surprise at his control. "You have no reason to fear me," I agreed with him in an assertive manner.

To my relief, his heart beat slowed slightly, and he was able to calm his hands.

The man looked into my eyes briefly. The moment he caught my honey coloured irises again; he was reminded that something was not normal about my appearance. To stop him from continuing to analyse me, I reverted back to my talkative self. Watching his dark eyes carefully, I suggested sympathetically:

"Perhaps you should try to forgive yourself for whatever crime you feel you have done."

The man smirked at me, the first hint of a smile since I had been in his presence. Even though his expression reflected his pity and dark humour, it gave me hope that this man was not completely lost in the deep hole in his heart.

"Self-forgiveness is impossible for me; I killed someone I love," he informed me to emphasise how little I knew of his situation.

Naturally, his statement did not surprise me, however the wave of emotion that rose with his admission forced me to pause for a moment. I sat in silence, watching him, wondering if I would see any emotion flit across his features that reflected the longing I knew he was feeling in his chest.

When his face remained resolutely blank, I tried to suggest to him a more positive way to look at his situation; if I had loved or even known the people I killed, I would have been able to more fully rectify my wrong. So I said:

"If I had, it may have been easier to work out how to make things right-"

"Her family are dead," he countered me immediately, and to my surprise, he knew what I was trying to suggest. I killed them too, he said to himself, almost as if he wanted me to know this fact without having to say the words.

I felt like I was not going to break through his emotional barrier this way, so I tried another tactic.

"If you loved her," I asked him gently, as I bent over slightly to look into his eyes, "why did you kill her?"

"It was an accident, thus the manslaughter," he fired at me, as if it were obvious, which I suppose it was. He then rested his head in his hands, and I could feel his grief mounting; talking about Lily was not helping him to be at peace nor prepare him for the suicide he had planned. But I needed to keep pushing him; only with his emotions in the open will I be able to elicit any change in him- any alteration to his plan that would prevent the terrible slavery Alice had seen. So I continued attacking his conscience.

"And you blame yourself for her death?"

"There is no one else to blame!" he shouted at me, his heart weighed down in hopelessness, his mind almost desperate; someone tangible needed to be blamed- punished for the death of someone so good. At the moment, that person was him.

"That doesn't mean it was your fault," I reminded him gently, the natural music tone in my voice coming out as I subconsciously attempted to ease his pain.

The boy turned away from me, embarrassed because he felt I was singing a lullaby to calm him. I hid my smile- he may be tipsy, but he was still an intelligent boy even when under the influence.

His gaze still averted from mine, he stared at his glass, wondering whether I was watching him, wondering what I was doing in the pub, and unsure what to say after feeling like a child who was being sung to.

But within seconds, his thoughts returned to the words I had said.

Of course it was my fault; he did not understand the intricacies of the role I played, he reassured himself. Of course, he could not have known how much I did know.

The silence that followed provided me with some time to focus on my family's thoughts, so I turned towards the door. Seeing me, Rod wondered what I was looking at. Is he expecting someone? He questioned himself, but thankfully he respected my privacy and did not ask.

Edward, my sister spoke to me through her thoughts, we are running out of time.

Tell me something I don't know, I thought at her even though I knew she could not hear me. I heard Jasper chuckle though; at least he could pick up on my emotions- my displeasure.

"I think he is well aware of what you just told him," he informed Alice kindly, kissing her forehead.

She humphed. "Edward, remember my gift, use it your advantage. See if you can think of something that changes the future," she encouraged me. I had been so focused on the grief of this boy, and preventing him from extracting his wand, that I needed to resume focus. Hopefully this break in our conversation would calm the boy a bit, and with little time available now, I needed to ensure that almost everything I said would result in an alteration in the future. Unfortunately it could take some time to find something productive to say, but I was determined to get through to this boy; there was a world of hurt underneath his façade, if only I could reach it. Somehow I knew that if he expressed his emotions, he may be more open to being redeemed rather than taking his life.

The boy was now looking at me, wondering what had kept me distracted for so long that I managed to 'shut up'. But he was not complaining and continued to go back to drinking, asking Rod for another bourbon. This gave me a couple of minutes to sift through various statements and questions in my head. Finally, I found one that made the future somewhat clearer; it had possibilities.

Give that one a try, Edward, Alice encouraged me.

"What are you going to do about it?" I asked him, which I knew was a vague question, but that was the point; I wanted to see what he would say and how he interpreted it. And indeed, it provided me with valuable answers: he felt I wanted to know what he was going to do about his guilt and his pain.

Kill myself so I can be free, and I could feel how much he desired that freedom. Despite these powerful emotions, the boy had the hide to shrug at me. However, he did not know how to answer me in a manner that would preserve his sanity in my eyes. But I knew I needed to pursue this- somehow I knew that he needed to admit his plans before I could hope to convince him there is an alternative future for him.

"Surely there is something you can do to make things right again?" I asked gently, my gaze focused on him once more.

He stared at me then, his dark eyes boring into mine. "Perhaps you feel your actions may have righted the imbalance you created in the world by killing eight innocent people, but there is nothing I can do to redeem myself of this mistake," he hissed at me.

"Or mend your heart," I added gently, still speaking in a musical cadence.

The man turned away from me as he attempted to escape his vulnerability.

"So what are you going to do?" I whispered again.

"Nothing," he asserted, and then thought of the poison he had concocted at home, and imagined himself drinking it. I tried to contain my frustration as I asked:

"You will let her death go to waste?"

"Nothing could ever be gained from her death! Don't you dare speak of things you do not understand! Her life has been wasted, nothing I can do could ever change that," he choked out. I tried to maintain my hold on my own façade as I struggled not to inform the boy of exactly how much I did understand.

You are doing well, Edward. Keep calm, Son, Carlisle encouraged me.

I took a quick breath, one the boy would not have been able to hear, and then decided to continue probing him. According to Alice's visions, the future was still hazy; I was on the borderline of making a difference.

"There must be something," I impressed on him calmly, "and when you find it you could channel your energy, your grief, your remorse, your love into doing that thing for her- something that might matter."

"There is nothing," he insisted. "Her child and husband are dead."

Automatically, I raised my eyebrows for I knew his statement was false, and I wanted him to see my reaction. When I realised he detected my scepticism, I quickly returned my face to a neutral expression.

What does this boy know? He wondered.

Perfect, I congratulated myself. Hopefully he would have seen my momentary insight, and at least explore the possibility that Lily's son or husband was not dead before taking his own life.

"There must be a way; everything is able to be balanced," I gently persisted, hoping to further reinforce this idea of redemption.

"Why can't you accept that such balance is impossible for some of us? We cannot all be as lucky as you!" he snapped at me, feeling frustrated by my foolish hope that balance and justice even existed in the world which has caused him so much pain. "And perhaps I don't want to be forgiven," he added truthfully. Now not only had I realised just how difficult it would be to convince him of anything that would preserve his 'worthless' life, but even if he did survive, he could never forgive himself. But I knew he did not deserve this pain- he had made a mistake, a mistake that was an accident, but it would take a lifetime for him to believe it.

"Then how will you live with your pain?" I queried as I struggled to ignore the affect his agony was having on me.

"I won't," he informed me in a reactive, detached manner. However, when he had the time to process the words that left his mouth, the boy's reaction was one of shock. He then felt relieved to have finally told someone, even a complete stranger that he was not coping.

Rod pondered over what the boy's response meant, but was not able to join the dots. My family was a different story, however. Alice and Jasper knew the boy's intentions already, but the others did not. Instantly, they understood both what I was trying to do, and why Jasper needed to remain in the car for several minutes.

I heard Esme's gasp outside, as she begun to understand this boy; she too attempted suicide when she was still human.

Oh woah, Emmett thought to himself; he was not expecting this.

Rosalie's mind was surprisingly calm, almost as if his death would resolve the fears she had of being discovered. I managed to hide my snarl by focusing on Carlisle's more pleasant thoughts.

I am proud of you for trying to help this boy, Edward.

It was a relief to have my family know half of the reason I was putting us at risk of being discovered and missing our flight. However, they still remained ignorant of the other half.

Although my mind was able to take on board the emotional upheaval that occurred outside, my primary focus remained on the boy in front of me; his eyes were brimming with tears.

Yes, I encouraged him in my mind. Let me in.

His tears were reflective of his agony as he realised how much he desired death, and the immense hate he felt towards himself.

My mind was attacked by his grief as it collapsed on his chest.

Suddenly a relentless wave of thoughts invaded my mind.

There is no purpose to my life. I have never done anything right; everything I do results in someone's death. I do not deserve to live. Why couldn't I be left in peace in these final moments of my life? I want to be free, please. His final thought was a prayer.

I did not mean to take that from you, I thought at him, my conscience putting my own guilt into silent words. Then I instinctively moved my hand towards the boy hoping to comfort him for my sake and Jasper's. My brother had closed his eyes, his body tense as he fought against the boy's desire to leave his drained body- leave his internal hell- leave this life. Concerned for Jasper, I monitored his mind, waiting for him to either ease the boy's pain through his gift or find a way to cope with the agony himself. Neither option was easy to accomplish.

Within two seconds however, I realised the boy was confused as to why I was physically reaching out to him. Immediately I stopped moving, and just as quickly I pulled my hand back to my side

Unfortunately, the astute boy had noticed my momentary act of comfort in reaction to his tears. He wished to perform something called 'Legilimency' which would allow him to… read my thoughts?

Edward? Jasper spoke to me, having felt the fear in my body. I concentrated on calming myself down so my brother knew I was fine. To do this, I focused on the boy's thoughts, alert for any further reference to this 'Legilimency' technique. However, it seemed to be a passing thought, which helped me to relax.

I then allowed my mind to recall the most recent statement the boy had uttered:

"I won't." Unfortunately, he had not given me anything further to work with. I forced myself not to underestimate how important the tears in his eyes were to my cause; there was emotion and a great amount of hurt beneath his façade, and I was getting closer to reaching it. Further, these tears represented his connection to his impending death and his longing to be free of this life.

"You can't forgive yourself?" I whispered with what little hope I had left.

Could you if you were me? He silently challenged me before replying out loud:

"Of course not."

"You don't believe you deserve it?"

Do you think I deserve it? he shouted at me in his head.

It took an incredible amount of self control not to shout back: Yes, you do.

But that retort quickly disappeared when the boy recalled an event from earlier that day. Quickly, it enveloped me. The images in combination with his commentary caused me to tense in distress. He was remembering the moment when he found Lily's dead body underneath the rubble of the Potters' ruined house.

She was hidden and invisible, her life forgotten by everyone except me... as if her life meant nothing. But she was everything to me! I cringed both at the intensity of his thoughts and what I saw. I had seen plenty of dead bodies, but the grief that went with his memories were terribly painful for me to endure. I noticed Jasper mentally and physically flinch.

I remember her beautiful green eyes looking up at me, wide and filled with fear. How can I forgive myself for causing her so much pain in the last moments of her life?

How can I possibly forgive myself for this?! He silently demanded of me as flashes of Lily's ghostly, terrified, colourless face stared up at us. For her misery? For the loss of her life, her husband's, and her son's? If I had kept my mouth shut, the Dark Lord would not have known about the prophecy and Lily would still be alive. My actions are unforgiveable. There is not an ounce of my soul that believes I deserve forgiveness or any reprieve for the crime I have committed.

And that was when I knew that forgiveness would not be the answer. So why was the future still blurry? There was still an element of uncertainty; something must stem from this.

"I can see you love her," I observed delicately, lowering my body towards him. "But your actions cannot be as terrible as you say they are. Her death was an accident after all," I reminded him.

He stared angrily at me, and I knew my attempts were fruitless. I sat rigidly on the stool contemplating what I could say from here.

"Of course, I cannot stop you from doing what you feel you must. I wanted to do something similar when I killed all those people too. But then I remembered there was more to my life than just me, that there were people who would miss me if I died," I eventually uttered, hoping he would consider whether he would be missed.

Quickly, I turned towards the door.

I remembered how I felt after drinking the blood of eight criminals. I felt guilty, not for their deaths, but for betraying my father, whom I loved.

I love my parents too much, I said to myself, allowing that love to fill me up. I could not leave them.

"He's remembering how guilty he felt after his rebellion against you," Jasper whispered to my father. "He loves you."

From what I could hear of my parent's thoughts they already knew what I was referring to.

We love you too, they both thought simultaneously, Esme's eyes welling in tears once again.

"No one would notice if I died," the boy answered me, causing me to turn around again.

"I am certain someone would," I insisted, wondering if I was right- could I be that lucky?

"They would notice, but they would not care," he clarified, and then I saw a man with a pointed pale face, and long blonde hair materialise in this boy's mind, someone by the name of 'Lucius'. He also felt Albus Dumbledore would notice his absence, but the boy did not feel an emotional connection to either of them. Every ounce of love he had was poured into his relationship with Lily; he really seemed to have no one, and that pained me terribly. But his future did not have to be reflective of his past. I needed to maintain the hope of a better future for him if I was to ever convince him of such a possibility.

"And what of all the things you would have done in the future, all the people you would have met and affected in years to come? Will you deprive them of your presence?" I continued, daring to sound hopeful again.

Unfortunately, the boy laughed humourlessly at me because he knew I was grasping at 'non-existent' straws. Well, I was not willing to believe that.

"Deprive them of my hate? My bitterness? They would be better off without me," he informed me without a doubt in his mind. And I could well imagine that his self-hate and his bitterness towards others would make it difficult for him to make friends. But someone who loved so deeply could not be doomed to live this way. Could they?

I opened my mouth about to protest and remind him of how capable he is of love when he continued:

"And even if I was able to influence countless lives in a positive way, as you are suggesting, it would not be worth the years of pain," he continued, speaking loudly over me. This was the first time he had asserted something so powerfully to me, so I contemplated his words.

If the boy could never be convinced that his mistake indirectly led to Lily's death, then living with his guilt would indeed be traumatising for him. Jasper and I most certainly were struggling to be in his presence, and in no way did I want such a future for this boy.

But I wondered whether he would change his mind if he knew how vital he was to the wellbeing of countless others…

"I suppose so," I eventually and reluctantly agreed with him. "The happiness of others is not worth your sanity," I stated, knowing I would have to support the opposite in a few minutes.

"I am not capable of providing anyone with happiness," he told me with certainty.

I have no joy to give.

Neither Jasper nor I would have disagreed with him on that count. But I also knew, or rather hoped that if he was encouraged- if he had a friend to talk to- he could be happy… one day.

"Mmm perhaps, but that does not mean you would not be important to them- that you wouldn't have a purpose in their lives," I reasoned with him.

"I would only make them miserable." Not that I would care.

"Or you may keep them alive; you could save others even though you couldn't save her."

"What are you suggesting?" he asked me feeling suspicious and slightly irritated by what I was implicating.

"That every human life has a purpose," I informed him truthfully; in my heart I believed it despite the countless of human lives I know are taken each day due to my species.

"If that were so, then Lily's was to die because of my actions. What was the purpose of that?"

"I am certain the purpose of her life was not to die at your hand- perhaps her purpose was fulfilled before her death?" I suggested mysteriously. As hard as it would be for this boy to accept, who loved this woman so deeply, I wondered whether her son was her purpose, to give birth to him and protect him for as long as she could. I should have known he would not appreciate my suggestion.

"Be silent!" he snapped at me, but only because he was frightened. Not that I would hurt him, but of my knowledge. His stomach was churning with anxiety and he wondered how much I knew of his world and of Lily. I wanted to use this opportunity to my advantage, but I could not acknowledge his thoughts and feelings which he believed were hidden from me.

But I sensed I was close- so close to breaking him.

I needed to push him further; if he could be led to believe that Lily died for a reason, perhaps he would wish to assume her role.

It was a hope I clung to.

"So is your purpose to die tonight? Is that why you were born? To destroy her and then kill yourself?" I yelled at him unintentionally, my desperation seeping through my own calm façade.

Just as the boy was answering me, Esme and Alice simultaneously cried out my name in shock.

"Edward!"

Thankfully the boy only registered voices, but not what they said. But the bartender did, and assumed correctly that I had family or friends standing outside the bar eavesdropping. Thankfully he did not want to move to let them in or explore further; a part of him feared me whilst another supported my goal; he didn't want his customer to die either. In the end, Rod decided not to distract either of us and stayed behind the bar.
"Yes, what else have I done with my life?" was what the boy demanded of me over the yells of my sister and mother, his body shaking with rage and remorse.

Edward, Jasper warned loudly. I tried to listen to my family's warnings, but I was running out of time (only ten minutes remained) and I needed to succeed.

"Are you incapable of seeing the potential good you have done? To love someone as you do- you cannot be as evil or as uncaring as you claim to be!" I tried to say with feeling.

"I do not know what you believe you understand about me, but I demand you to stop! You know nothing of my life or hers- do not make assumptions about what it is like to be me!" he screamed at me, his body still shaking, and his breathing rapid as he tried to calm himself down.

I opened my mouth to counter his argument when I was almost deafened by Jasper's voice.

His body is telling him to fight you, Edward! Do not give him a reason to duel, he told me seriously, and I could hear him moving uncomfortably outside as my family watched him react to the boy's emotions. I tilted my head towards the door concentrating on Jasper's thoughts and those of my family.

What could Alice see? When I thought of backing down, nothing unusual appeared in my future, so I relaxed as Jasper sent calming thoughts in my direction. He understood that I was frustrated, but given the limited amount of time we had, now was not the moment to encourage the wizard to fight.

Edward, Alice spoke to me seriously then, and showed me an image of us missing our plane if we did not leave within the next ten minutes. I attempted to remain calm, but found myself rubbing my temples with my fingers.

Think, I encouraged myself. There had to be something I could say…

Eventually a thought came into my mind, which made Alice quietly squeal in delight as the future clearly transformed and the humans around us were safe and free. If the boy reacted in the way consistent with his current inclinations, then we were about to change the future.

I clenched my jaw when I realised what I was contemplating at the time the future changed- it was only meant as a joke. Now that I knew it would work, I needed to try despite the multiple concerns I had about the scheme.

There was hope after all, but at what cost?

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm myself down; this would be my last attempt at saving this boy's life.

Eventually I opened my eyes and stared determinedly at the boy in front of me.

"Do you believe in fortune tellers?" I asked him.

I ignored the gasps I heard from my family outside; I was not altering my plan.

"Yes," he replied without hesitation. His response made me feel relief that so far our discussion was running smoothly, but also surprised that he was so willing to admit this belief; few humans would.

Of course I believe in Seers, one of them is the reason why I'm in this situation. The prophecy was fulfilled as she predicted: the Dark Lord is dead, even if it cost three lives. No… nothing would be worth her life, not even His.

"My sister has the ability to see the future of those around her," I explained further as I searched his eyes for his reaction.

Will he believe me? I wondered. But all I could feel was confusion from the two humans near me, and dread from my family outside.

This is dangerous territory, Emmett thought to himself, feeling slightly uneasy.

"Why would he say such a thing?" Esme wondered out loud, still not fully understanding why I was speaking to this boy to begin with.

The hiss I heard came from Rosalie's mouth, and I knew she disapproved of my honesty.

Alice and Carlisle were silently praying that I knew what I was doing.

I sighed. I needed to push through this; time was running out.

"I came into this pub tonight to try to change your mind. I see I have failed," I spoke gently. I then felt my body bow slightly as if physically upset by this. I stopped looking at him, and a strange sense of failure came over me. The future was clearly a positive one so far, but all of my previous efforts had been in vain. If I were to succeed, how would this boy live? Would his grief consume him to emotional and psychological death? Was suicide a better option for him than the one I was about to suggest? I shuddered to think.

The boy was watching me closely, wondering why I looked so down. However, within two seconds his concern for me morphed into resentment; he believed I had been manipulating him.

And with that, the wonderful future I had seen disappeared…

I heard Alice moan in disappointment.

But Jasper was on the alert.

He's angry, Edward, he warned me.

I looked up with my eyes and saw the pale man's face, his fists clenched at the perceived injustice he felt took place.

"Ever since you walked in here you have been lying to me," he stated plainly through his teeth, believing that I would not be able to deny it. His caution around me completely dissipated as he pushed aside my 'story' of killing eight people.

This did not impress me- to be called a liar, especially when I had personally struggled to even be in the same room as him for the last 55 minutes.

My eyes narrowed in anger. I saw through the boy's mind that my irises had turned black. Suddenly his fear returned; I was no longer the god-like creature he perceived me to be upon our acquaintance. Now he thought of me as a demon, and perhaps that was best if I wanted him to listen to me.

"No, I was not lying to you," I informed him as patiently as I could, Jasper again sending calming thoughts and influences my way. "I hoped my personal experiences would have provoked you to see there are other options than ending your life."

"Says the attractive kid who got away with 'killing' eight people!" he snapped at me gesturing harshly at my body.

Probably had a female judge who was so caught up in his appearance that she did not see the demon within.

I reacted instinctively to his thoughts, forgetting momentarily that I should not have been able to hear them. In an instant, I was closer to the boy than would have been considered polite.

Edward, Jasper warned cautiously, sensing my anger.

I stared into the boy's black eyes which were wide and clearly frightened of me. But this was not how he was supposed to react; the boy's reactions kept altering the future, and I had had enough.

I needed to get that damn future back- the one I had been working towards.

I could not fail this…

When I took a further step towards him, the boy fell of his stool and a moment later it clattered to the ground.

"What's happening?" Esme asked immediately in response to the sound, worried for me as she turned to Jasper and Alice for answers. But neither of them answered, one was focused on keeping me calm, while the other was focusing on the future.

I could sense and feel the fear in the boy as he looked into my darkened face. Despite the amount he had had to drink, this boy retained his intelligence and used it to consciously change the subject in the hope the darkness in my eyes would disappear.

"Why didn't your sister come in here to tell me this?" he asked me hastily, hoping this was a sufficient distraction.

As he had hoped, his question caused me pause- not because I did not know the answer, but because I did not know what to tell him. In contemplation, I took a couple of steps backwards, which the boy was relieved about.

"She wanted to, but I assumed you would be drunk. I did not want her to get hurt." This was somewhat true. However, the more pressing fact that he could perform magic was the overarching reason I volunteered myself for this near impossible task.

"Well please do thank her for wanting to inform me that my suicide plan will be a success," he informed me sarcastically feeling far braver now that I was not in his face. "I could not have foreseen that."

"Your future was not the one she saw," I told him patiently and somewhat mysteriously, whilst struggling to ignore his attitude.

"Then whose was it?" he asked, trying not to sound shaken by this new piece of information.

"Your neighbours'," I informed him, and then used my hand to indicate the houses beyond the pub we were standing in. "Their future is that of slavery and punishment-"

"That is not my concern-"

This statement made the bartender feel uncomfortable. He had assumed correctly that he was one of the neighbours I referred to, so he desperately wanted to know whether there was anything he could do to reduce the chance of slavery. Naturally, I could not answer him without making my gift obvious, so I focused on the boy in front of me.

"This became their future only when you changed the means of ending your life," I told him pointedly, my gaze determined as I leaned towards him slightly.

How could he know that? The boy wondered.

My family, on the other hand, now understood why I had led them off the main road.

"Somehow you were the difference between their freedom and their capture," I continued, hoping he would believe me.

"That is impossible- you are lying."

I felt my eyes flicker dangerously, my body was tensed as I tried to master my frustration with him.

Stay clam, Edward, Jaz encouraged me gently.

"I promise you I am not. I speak the truth. However you may perceive your life, there must be something good in you- something good you do in the future that spares these people from a terrible existence!" I shouted at him, my own fear seeping through as I wondered whether I was trying to save a heartless boy.

Could he be that selfish? But even as the thought entered my mind, I immediately dismissed it; I knew he was not. I reminded myself that he was in pain, and living in his own personal Hell. If I were him, I would want to end my life too no matter who may rely on me in future.

The wizard was observing my face and noticed the emotional conflict I was experiencing. He wondered why I cared so much, and considered whether I shared his pain some how.

The extent of this boy's insight was beginning to frighten me.

"Their lives are not worth my own," the boy continued relentlessly; he was not about the change his mind, even if it had a negative impact on me and hundreds of others. "I will not continue to live in this Hell in the hope that one day I could help people I don't even know. Besides, you are likely wrong; slavery is a thing of the past." Despite his curiosity at my emotional investment in his life and the increasing frustration he could see in my face, this boy was not backing down.

"You know of whom I speak- you know who has the capacity to place these people into slavery and torture them!" I hissed at him.

What exactly did his sister see? He wondered. Wizards? Death Eaters?

Realising the secrets of his kind may have been breached through my sister's gift, the boy reached into his robes and wrapped his fingers around his wand.

I need to erase his memory; he cannot know.

My body instantly became rigid at the prospect of losing my memory. I had not considered such a spell, and yet it was likely such a charm would be their primary form of protection from 'Muggles'. Although he maintained enough of his reason to realise that a memory charm would be useless when my sister retained her memory, every instinct told me I needed to back down. I could not take my eyes away from the wand I knew was hidden beneath his cloak- in a split second he may change his mind and attack me. I could not take the risk; my memory was everything to me.

"Careful, Edward," Jasper said out loud having sensed the change in the emotional climate of the room. Slowly I moved a couple of steps towards the door, wanting to make it clear to the boy that I do not intend to harm him.

"He's dead," the boy hissed at me, images of his 'Lord' floating through his mind.

"Are you sure?" I challenged him as I continued to inch towards the exit, my body crouched down slightly in case I needed to flee at a second's notice.

If I could place doubt in his mind that his master was dead, perhaps this would motivate him enough to protect those who remained.

"Of course he's dead!"

"And if he isn't? What if you are wrong?"

"I could not care less," he told me, whilst silently acknowledging to himself how selfish he sounded.

The boy watched my expression as I frowned, not in disappointment, but in understanding. I was beginning to accept that without being able to effectively lessen his current pain, there was no chance he would choose to prolong his life for anyone except Lily.

The boy noticed the change in my face and believed I was disappointed or angry, but by this stage I was mentally exhausted… I could not fight him any longer.

"Grief is painful," I acknowledged as I moved a couple of steps closer towards the exit. "I can see how much you miss her. Death would be the easier way out. I understand that." Then I sighed, my eyes still locked on his even though I was moving away from him. "I wanted you to know that your life will be worth something to many, even if they are not or may never be aware of your importance in their life. But you know it now. Do not take your life unless you are certain it is not worth living. Please," I begged of him, my voice resuming its musical quality.

I was pleased when I felt his body almost collapse as the weight of my words hit him like a tonne of bricks; I did not want to cause him pain, but I did want him to listen to me. Only then did I see his face reflect the emotional pain I knew coarse through his body.

"I have no choice!" he shouted at me, his breathing coming in waves as he tried to suppress his sobs. I already knew how hopeless he felt. I needed to remind him that as hard as it would be, grief and guilt were both emotions he could live with.

"You do," I insisted, my voice still maintaining its musical quality. And I knew he did, but I also understood I was asking him to take the far more difficult path that even the strongest of humans would struggle to embark on.

"No, you do not understand!" he cried back feeling pathetic as his voice wavered. "I cannot live like this!" he screamed at me, tears prickling his eyes.

The truth of his words almost broke me, because I could feel both he and my brother experience his agony. Indeed, one could not truly live in this way, but as much as I wanted to, I could not give up on this boy. If I had learnt anything that evening, it was how incredibly intelligent and strong this boy was. Perhaps he would not be completely broken if he chose to live.

I felt selfish for asking him; it was a significant request. And in my mind it was made worse because I knew my time was up; my family needed to leave if we were to catch our plane. Just when I had finally broken through his defences, I was now leaving him more upset and vulnerable than he was when we first met. My chest clenched painfully, hating myself for intervening in this wizard's life; he had just lost the love of his life. I broke him down to the point of tears, and now I was abandoning him, and could not provide an explanation for it. I did not even know his name.

"Please, try," I begged of him, knowing this would be the final words I left him with. Unbidden, the venom in my eyes rose to the surface. I forced myself not to wipe them away; I wanted the boy to see that I was emotional too, and that I was sorry for leaving him.

Why is he so upset? The boy wondered.

But I did not have time to explain, and at a quick human pace I moved towards the door, wrenched it open and left the pub.

The version of the future in Alice's vision was the one we hoped for at the time I left the boy's presence. The moment I stepped out of the pub, I led my family towards our cars, my attention focused on Alice's thoughts as the future wavered between the alternatives as the boy's decision to end his life oscillated.

I knew my mother wanted to speak with me, to comfort me, but I could not stop running; I needed to get away from here.

Thoughts of my failure and how much time I wasted filled me up, but ultimately it was my own guilt and sadness that drove me forward. Jasper knew this, but decided he would not mention it until we reached the car. But Esme knew I had become upset in the pub, so she tried to catch up to me.

"Edward," Esme attempted to begin, her hand resting on my shoulder as we ran.

Stop for a moment, Sweetheart.

"We need to leave," I reminded her under my breath, ignoring her request. Of course, I could have stopped; the two seconds it would have taken Esme to hug me and tell me I did my best would not have made a difference. But I was running for a reason; I could not stop because if I did, the emotions building in my chest may come through, and I did not want them to. Jasper could also feel the extent of my sadness; he knew how trapped I felt in my body. If the boy chose to live, he and I both knew it would be a difficult life for him. And if he chose to die, it would no longer be in peaceful solitude as it would have been before I intervened. Because of me, he now knows what he would be leaving behind: innocent humans to suffer under his master's hand.

I had been cruel to the boy.

When we arrived at the car, I resumed my place in the driver's seat. I took a moment to sit in silence. Jasper sat carefully in the passenger's seat waiting patiently for me to come to terms with my own emotions rather than forcing a calm onto me.

"Edward, you did the best you could," Alice's voice rung in my left ear from the back seat. And I did know this, but it was not enough.

"It is up to him now," Jasper reminded me. "We cannot expect him to choose the hard way, not when he feels so…" But Jaz could not find the words and neither could I.

I exhaled slowly, and rested my head against the back of my seat. I knew I had to accept whatever choice he would make tonight. And in turn, forgive myself for the influence I may have played in that choice. The wizard knew what would happen if he left the world- he believed me, of that I was certain. But what would he decide? Ironically, after the sixty agonising minutes I spent in his presence, I hoped he would choose to die. Having experienced his turmoil every second of that hour, I did not want him to live that way- I did not want that poor boy to suffer.

It was not his responsibility to protect his neighbours- it should be the magical world that fixes whatever that dark tyrant would do to those humans.

I turned the key in the ignition and stared blankly out of the windscreen. Jaz reached over and placed a hand on my shoulder.

If he chooses to take his life, it would be the decision most would make… if he chooses to live, he would be a braver and stronger man than most, Jasper reminded me. Either way he is extraordinary. We know this… Edward, we can only expect him to do so much.

I nodded my head in understanding and agreement. What upset me most was the boy appeared to be blind to his intelligence, his capacity to love, and the extent of his emotional and physical control. The nature of his mind appeared to defy that of humans; was truly incredible even when under the influence of alcohol. But hedid not believe any of this.

As I drove away from Spinner's End, my greatest regret was that I never acknowledged how incredibly difficult this decision would for him be either way. Although it was not possible, I wish I could have told him that for the remainder of my existence, I would remember and respect him regardless of the choice he made.

XXXXXX

Author's note: And that is the end of Chapter 3- Forgiveness. I hope you enjoyed this first meeting between Edward and Severus. Remember, if you are at all curious as to Severus' side of this conversation, feel free to read the 3rd Chapter of 'Leave Me' (which can be found on my profile page).

I intend to update 'Leave Me' next where readers can catch a detailed glimpse of what Severus does after this conversation took place. I then intend to alternate the writing and posting of chapters between the two stories (i.e. 'Leave Me' and 'A life worth living' until the 14 year gap takes place in the plotline (as mentioned in the introduction to both stories).

I hope the next chapter will be posted in the next week or two (fingers crossed)!

Finally, please leave me a review- you know how much I love to hear from you all!