i know it serves me well

or

five times severus missed lily

I.

Her red hair reached past her elbows now. It had grown since he last saw her. A smile plastered onto her face, numerous bags dragging her arms down, Lily Potter looked happier than ever. When he had first saw her, his heart had stopped, and he had almost spilt his tea all over his robes.

It was true, the whispers that had been passed around, Bellatrix cackling at the sound of them- Lily Potter looked like a goddess.

She looked happy, and content, her free arm linked through Potter's, the dark-haired man chattering away cheerfully, his eyes darting around behind his glasses. Sirius paced in front of them, a day's worth of stubble lining his Black chin, sunglasses perched on his nose.

The only thing that wasn't there to complete the illusion of a happy, content family was little baby Potter, merrily kicking away inside of Lily's stomach. Severus felt a pang of remembrance bounce in his stomach, and sighing, brushing his hair away from his eyes. The Dark Mark lined and tainted the skin of his arm, still fresh.

It burned when he pressed a finger to it, he had learnt, wincing at the pain the first time he had been required to call the Dark Lord, cowering before his sight. That he had not expected; he had thought it to be like a tattoo, an ever-lasting, eternal reminder of rebelliousness.

He had been forced to kill a woman, of twenty-two years the same age as Lily, her body curled up in bed, a child wrapped in her arms suckling happily away at her thumb, loose red curls dangling down her back. Shaking with nerves and that fact that he knew that if he screwed this up, his life would be over, he had raised his wand, and pointed it straight at her forehead.

He had been ready to cast the spell, when her eyes snapped open looking fearfully around at the group of cloaked, masked mass of people, all gathered around her bed.

And, he swore, if it hadn't been for the Dark Lord's wand pressing painfully into his back, his breath ruthless in his ear, he would have fainted, right then and there, damn the consequences.

Her eyes had been green, and he swore that she could see right through his soul.

Still, the deed had to have been done, and he had killed her, everyone congratulating him on his master spell work, and calling him "a benefit to the cause." Then, shaking on his feet, he had disappeared, landing in his bed at Spinner's End, and had sobbed for hours on end.

By Merlin's name, he missed Lily.

II.

The first time he had realized he honestly, truly missed her, and longed for her to be back by his side, was when he had seen her, all bright hair and sparkling eyes, boarding the train. Her family, which he had used to think as his as well, were waving to her, Petunia erased from the happy family image. She smiled down at them, eyes twinkling merrily, robes already on, like always.

And then, without a second thought of warning, he had followed her with his eyes, watching her crush her mother to her, and place a soft kiss on her father's stubbly cheek. Then, slowly, almost as if he was watching through slow motion lens, she boarded the train, humming softly to herself. The wind rustled through her hair, sending it this way and that, and slowly, she turned her head to face him, chewing on a piece of bright red gum, lips pressed together.

Standing there, all long black hair and dark eyes, he had smiled up at her, watching as realization dwelled over her face. And his heart had been crushed, when in a matter of moments, he had watched Potter bound up to her, a beam playing on his lips, crush her to him, and kiss her, his friends cheering as they watched, all smiling.

She had watched him through the corner of her eyes, closing them only when he moved away, shaking his head and blinking to keep the tears in.

But, by all that they had done together, by all the memories they had made and shared, he couldn't blame her for his shattered heart.

How was she supposed to know that he loved her?

III.

Their marriage had been plastered over numerous magazines, and wherever he went, he heard someone discussing it happily. Even Narcissa, of all people, revelled in delight over Lily's dress, gushing about it happily to her recent fiancé, Lucius who sat there looking as solemn as ever. The Mark burned brightly on his arm, looking newer than ever. It was the same on everyone he saw. Even on fifty-year-old men, men that had seen hardship, men that had known pain the Mark looked like it had only been done yesterday.

She was happy, and that was what counted, he thought. Even if it didn't stop his heartbreak, didn't stop the tears from flowing, she was happy and that was what mattered. After all the pain he had caused her, after all the tears, she deserved to be happy, even if he longed to be in Potter's place, to be the one to have Lily as his bride.

He hadn't dared to attend the wedding, though a part of him wished he had. He could have been the one to stop it, the one to stand up and end it forever, and he could have been the one slipping the ring on her perfect finger, not Potter! Severus clenched his fist, hitting the table.

Hair fell over his eyes as he placed his head in his hands, sighing tiredly. There was nothing he could do. She was married, and he couldn't change that. No matter how hard he wished it.

So he went that night, listened at the door, and nearly blacked out at the mention of her name. A million thoughts swam in his head, almost devouring him under the weight of it all. Lily, his Lily forever, was going to die. His flower, his angel, his pure soul, was going to be ripped apart and killed.

He couldn't let that happen. So, shaking with nerves, his mind whirling overtime, he went to Dumbledore.

But, even after that, Lily died. She slipped out of his fingers. He was unable to save her.

And, somehow, he died as well.

IV.

There was a loud grunt from beside him. Albus turned, a twinkle in his eyes, and a smile on his lips, to face Severus, the man slumping down in his chair, a scowl painted on the lines of his face. He knew why, of course, shaking his head at Severus, before turning back to the students.

Harry James Potter stood nervously in the line of first-years waiting to be sorted, a beam on his face even though he was visibly shaking with nerves. Black hair was in disarray; his glasses perched on his nose, and robes dragging on his feet. But that wasn't the cause of Severus's sudden change in mood.

It was the eyes.

Bright green, they took in everything surrounding them. Opened wide and filled with curiosity, they were the one thing that put him apart from his father. They were Lily's eyes, and Albus felt a sudden pang of sadness for the man sitting next to him. Severus might try to not show it, but he knew, deep inside, that he missed Lily more than words could express.

Perhaps, just maybe, Harry could fill that void in Severus's heart.

But, even as he stood up to greet the students, gazing down merrily at Harry, perched happily at the Gryffindor table, he knew that would never happen. Severus despised James to much to let himself get close to his son.

He just hoped his feelings of missing Lily could over-ride those feelings of hatred. After all, he had the eyes.

And they were Lily's soul, reborn into another life.

V.

He panted heavily, sweat coursing down his neck. For a second he wished he could tug the heavy cloak off, but he knew he couldn't. It was a part of him: it had sheltered him from the pity looks, the sneers, the curious glances in the street. It was essentially him, cold, black and surrounded with protective half a mile wide so no-one could ever get through to know the man underneath.

And he liked it that way.

The Mark burned bright on his arm, furiously burning the skin. The Dark Lord had been angry, furious even, ever since Potter had somehow found out the Horuxces, his mood always changing. It took a lifetime of self-restraint for him to not actually kill each and every one of his followers, but that blew over sometimes, causing him to strike them down in a fit of glee. Lucius, he knew, had been on his toes all year, visible wincing whenever something when wrong that he could be blamed for.

Severus, himself, knew that his time was almost up. He would be blamed for something, and then he would be killed. It was unstoppable, and just something he would have to learn to live with. Sooner or later, he would be with Lily. Then maybe, hopefully, the feeling of missing her would stop.

"Look at me."

Black met green, and life faded away, leaving behind a broken shell of a man whose greatest achievement in life had been loving Lily.

And Severus Snape was finally content.

i don't feel right when you're gone

Written for the Five Things Challenge at the HPFFC forums. Reviews are love, as always. Lyrics belong to "Broken" by Amy Lee and Seether.