Author's Note: I own nothing, all J. K. Rowling's. Please review, I'd really appreciate it. Thanks. (And sorry about the bold, but it didn't really work with the italic and the regular.)

Her parents had been killed when she was 13 years old. She remembered it vividly, of course she did. It was the most horrific thing that had ever happened to her in all of her 24 years.

She and her older brother Russell, had just come home for Easter vacation. They had done their usual Easter-y things, and on the Eve, Charity had gone to bed sure that when she woke up, it would be just as normal and pleasant as any Easter before. But what she had not counted on, was waking up to flashes, bangs, and Russell frantically shaking her.

"We have to go!" He had said, his wand was out, his eyes wild, and cheeks wet. "Mom and Dad say we have to go!" He waved his wand and her trunk levitated off toward the apparition safe room.

Charity remembered her eyes bulging at his blatant law breaking, and remembered being pulled out of bed. She remembered her wand being shoved into her hand, and them both running toward the safe room. But what she remembered most, was looking out the windows as she ran, and seeing hooded figures appearing out of the darkness, closely followed by the sound of someone familiar screaming out in pain and flashes of green light.

That day had haunted Charity Burbage in her dreams for 11 years. A reoccurring nightmare that started with her brother waking her up, and ended with her watching as hooded figures emerging and pointing their wands toward her racing heart.

"Severus?" She asked softly, eyes still on the distant figure, heart beating just a bit too fast. "Should we go see if he's alright?" Her eyes flicked over to his, and she saw them darken just a bit before he looked away and straitened up.

"Yes, Charity, we should."

She swallowed loudly and tried to calm herself. This was not her nightmare. This was a good dream. She was helping a sick man, and she was having pleasant conversation with Severus Snape along the way. Yes, this would definitely constitute as good dream.

…...

He and Lily had met at the children's park between their houses. They had been friends for ages, and she was the only one he could come to at times like this.

"Oh Sev." She whispered, looking at his blackened eyes and bleeding lips. "Was he drunk again?"

He nodded and sat back down on the swing. He watched as she took the seat next to him, and as she started twisting the swing back and forth. He watched as she twirled around in circles, and as she tried not to cry. He watched as she finally stopped spinning, and he watched as she gasped and pointed down the hill that had a clear view of a stream about a mile away.

Snape turned just in time to see his father fall into the water, struggle drunkenly up the bank, and lay down on his back, sopping wet and coughing.

He turned back to Lily, who's beautiful eyes held fear, anger, and sadness. "Severus?" She had whispered. "Should we go see if he's alright?"

He tore his gaze away from her green one, and looked back toward his father. "No, Lily, we shouldn't."

The next day the muggle police had shown up on his doorstep, all with solemn faces. His father had been found dead by the river that morning. That day had stayed with Severus Snape for almost 2 decades, his mother's sobs haunting his dreams, the constant 'what if's' scratching at the back of his mind.

How could he not go down and check up on the pitiful Quirrell. Especially after looking at Charity and recognizing that mixture of fear, anger, and sadness in her green eyes. After remembering what happened the last time that question was asked of him. After remembering what happened when he had answered 'no'.

He saw Quirrell stumble along the path, and swallowed the unwelcome feelings that had cropped up.

"Yes, Charity," He whispered back. "we should."