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He had never had the wealth or prestige that many of the others in Slytherin house had been born into, but with his levels of intellect and power Severus Snape found that he was a useful ally to have, and so quickly he made connections. But there had only ever been one friendship. He recalled the way Lily had been in life as she had sat by the window in charms class, oblivious of the way the summer sun illuminated her rich red tresses of hair. It had always stood out against her pale skin and the velvet darkness of her robes. He had noticed her beauty long before Potter.
The stab of pain caused by this memory was not lessened by time. Severus lifted the crystal tumbler to his mouth and closed his eyes in pleasure as the alcohol burned the back of his throat.
Even after the demise of their friendship, Severus had never truly relinquished Lily. He sat ensconced in the shadows cast by trees, watching as she walked hand in hand with Potter, basking in the summer sunlight. The pit of his stomach turned to lead as she stood on tiptoes in order to kiss James Potter. It should have been he, Severus, feeling the gentle brush of Lily's mouth against his own. Her hair rippled in the breeze, and as the soft tendrils tickled Potter's face Severus tasted bile.
It should have been him. More than anything, Severus loved Lily. With equal strength he hated James Potter.
Now, almost twenty years later when the taint of his jealously had devastated countless lives and killed Lily herself, there was nothing left. She was dead and Severus Snape's world was desolate, brightened only by the recollection of Lily. He may have to live with the burden of his crimes, but there was solace in one thing- he would remember Lily longer than Potter ever would.
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