More than just a one-shot now.

I'm not all too sure where I'm going to take this story, but it seems to be going somewhere.

You saw the disclaimer in the first chapter. Nothing has changed since then.

Enjoy

Sorry Severus

"Please," he begged, trying not to sound too desperate, "do not kill the woman."

The Dark wizard sneered. "What of the man—or the child!" he hissed.

"I do not care for either," he said clearly, only thinking of the woman.

The Dark wizard smirked knowingly, a feature uglier than most on his horrid face. "I see," he hissed softly. Then he struck like the snake he resembled and watched as his follower writhed under his wand, upon the floor, in agony. "You would do well to not test my patience, Severus. You are only alive because of your small value. And I want to see your gratitude for my gift."

Severus winced again, thinking of his "gift": a dead Dark Lord and a dead family. Happy Halloween, he thought bitterly. He gulped down the rest of Ogden's Finest and summoned another bottle to pour into his tumbler.

The burn in his system did nothing to force out the pain, it amplified it. Severus suppressed yet another memory, another mistake, another reason to die.

He imbibed the entire glass of whiskey and threw it at the wall. The shattering sound did nothing to break through the haze he threw himself into after hearing the news. His mind shut down and he tried to ignore the pain.

A sound from his wards alerted him that someone sat near his house. He dragged himself to the window, unafraid of anyone seeing him. The other Death Eaters did not blame him for the downfall of their master. Not that Severus cared.

He frowned, staring at a distraught woman sitting in the front seat of a Muggle car with a small child in the back. The child gazed right at him, as if waiting for him to appear in the window. The little boy raised his hand and waved.

Severus frowned, not sure what to do, then noticed the woman catch her child waving at a stranger. He fled back inside as she turned toward him.

The jerky movement caused his stomach to turn and he ran to the toilet, retching his entire day into the bowl.

A burst of sobriety hit Severus like a strong hex, and everything he tried to ignore that day tore through his brain like a tornado. He retched more, thinking about everything he did that led up to this point.

Stomach empty and head pounding, Severus could only think one thing: It is my fault.

Severus cleaned his mess and dressed. He Disapparated to the edge of the Dark Forest and strode to the castle, focusing on the office high in a tower, holding the only other person he could blame.

The door opened in a burst of wandless magic and Severus stared at the old man in front of him. A memory of this very man slapped him in the face.

"Keep her—them—safe. Please," he croaked.

"And what will you give me in return, Severus?"

"In—in return?" Severus gaped at Dumbledore. After a long moment, he said, "Anything."

Severus crumpled. He slouched into the nearest chair and let out a low, lamentable moan. The events of the past few hours hit him and he cried.

Dumbledore moved over to him, looking grim.

Another terrible sound, like a wounded animal, escaped Severus and he tried to collect himself. A moment passed and he looked up, not able to look straight into the clear, blue eyes. "I thought...you were going...to keep her...safe..."

"She and James put their faith in the wrong person," the old man replied, "Rather like you, Severus. Weren't you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her?"

Severus could barely breath.

"Her boy survives," Dumbledore continued. "Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and colour of Lily Evans' eyes, I am sure?"

"DON'T!" Severus bellowed. He crumpled again. "Gone...dead..."

"Is this remorse, Severus?"

"I wish...I wish I were dead..."

"And what use would that be to anyone?" the old man asked coldly. "If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear."

Severus could barely hear him through the haze of pain, he tried to understand the mixture of words. "What—what do you mean?"

"You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily's son."

"He does not need protection. The Dark Lord has gone—"

"The Dark Lord will return, and Harry Potter will be in terrible danger when he does."

Severus took the time to slowly regain control of himself, forcing his lungs and voice to cooperate. "Very well. Very well. But never—never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear...especially Potter's son...I want your word!"

"My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?" the old man sighed, looking down into Severus' ferocious, anguished face. "If you insist..."

"Yes," Severus said quickly, ending the conversation. He stood and wiped his face, nodding once to the old man before striding to the door. He hesitated, his hand barely on the handle, and faced Dumbledore. "Who is taking care of him?" He did not know why he asked, but it felt right to do so.

Dumbledore seemed to hesitate for a second, then replied, "Petunia Dursley."

The colour drained from Severus' face before it flushed in anger. "What?" he hissed.

"She is his last living relative and—"

"You put the child in the hands of that—that woman because of blood-wards?" Severus yelled.

"She will take care of him, she is—"

"Lily's magic-hating sister! The years of torture she put Lily through because of her jealousy and loathing! Now you put her son into that woman's care? I thought you wanted to protect the child!"

"Severus," the old man spoke sedately, "calm yourself. Petunia will care for the child as she cares for her own—do not interrupt me. Harry Potter is her nephew—her sister's son—he is safe in her hands."

Severus disagreed, but nodded. He could not handle this much stress in one day. He moved, again, to open the door, but the old man stopped him.

"Severus—Professor Slughorn is considering retirement."

Severus stared at the man, waiting for the point.

"I would like you to take up the position. You are the most qualified person I know for it, and I am sure it will help you take your mind off matters."

Severus thought about how easily the old man could categorize Lily's death as a matter he needed to take his mind off of. He fought the sneer that came with the thought. "I will...consider your offer."

Dumbledore nodded and Severus left.

He Apparated into his sitting room and lowered his tired form into a worn chair. With a flick of his wand, the fireplace roared to life. He watched the light of the flames dance around the nearly empty glass bottle of firewhiskey and sighed.

"Lily." The word rang through the empty room and hung in the air like fog. Severus ran a hand through his hair which was slick with sweat. He watched his hand return to the armrest. It shook. He let out an unexpected, strangled sob.

Severus stood and found some parchment, a quill, and ink. He wrote two words he wished he could send to the woman he still loved, the woman he wronged. Instead, he summoned his owl and sent it to someone he could.

Little Harry Potter might never understand how sorry Severus truly was.