A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he dropped onto the sofa, immediately burying his face in his hands. A soft sob shook his shoulders but no other sound escaped him. He had pretty much cried himself dry by now but the strain of having to hold it together whilst facing the few Death Eaters that had not panicked was taking its toll. Just a few hours ago he had been cradling Lily's dead body and the image of her had yet to leave his mind. Every time he closed his eyes she was there, lurking in the darkness to haunt him. To blame him. He had failed her, this was all his fault. What if he hadn't told the Dark Lord of the prophecy? What if he had come to Albus sooner? What if, what if, what if.. What if she'd never met him in the first place? Maybe she would be happy, and most importantly, alive.

He was so lost in such thoughts of blame and self loathing that he didn't notice Tilly appearing beside the sofa. Her large sad eyes looked at him over the arm of the sofa, never before had she seen him cry and it was clearly worrying her. "Why does Master cry?"

He physically jumped at the sound of her soft, squeaky voice, so much so that he very nearly fell off the edge of his sofa.

"Tilly!" He gasped, a soft hiccough following his exclamation. "I.. I didn't hear you."

The dark wizard hurriedly wiped his cheeks of any stray tears even though he knew it was no use. The elf had already caught him crying and his eyes were bloodshot, his cheeks tear stained. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his cheeks properly. "What do you need, Tilly?"

"I came to do my chores but found you crying.. Why does Master cry?"

His black eyes drifted over to the elf and he just stared at her for a minute or so. Eventually he looked away and sighed. "I've not had the best of days, Tilly. Please, you don't need to do anything tonight just, go and take the night off."

He stood up and made a beeline for the drinks cabinet, he had some strong firewhiskey and the bottle was just calling his name. He grabbed the bottle and took a swig from its open top before he even thought about picking up a glass. The amber liquid trickling into the glass container was the only sound in the room. He looked over to see the elf was still standing there, he wasn't really surprised. "Tilly, please, I am fine."

"Sorry, sir, but you is not fine." She wrung her hands as she shuffled towards him. "Master cries, something has made him sad.. Tilly wants to help!"

He turned away from the elf and took a sip of firewhiskey. The burning as it passed down his throat was almost welcome at this point; it was something to feel other than the aching in his heart and the guilt that tormented him. He raised the glass for another sip whilst words escaped him but a knock at the door halted his movements. Who would be calling on him at this hour? He waved a dismissive hand at the door, even though the soul on the other side could not see it, and elected to ignore his late night caller. Once he was confident the person had left he would return to trying to shoo Tilly but his guest had other ideas. After being ignored, they hammered on the door again.

"Severus, I know you're in there." He frowned into his glass. What did she want?

He still wanted to ignore her but before he knew it Tilly had gone to answer the door. "Good evening, Professor McGonagall!"

Severus glared at the elf's back; she had done that on purpose. The little elf turned back to face him once the door was closed and flashed him a satisfied smile. Being nice to her had turned her into a cheeky little devil. Before he could say anything she snapped her fingers and vanished, back to the kitchens no doubt. He was now left alone with Minerva who had not spent more than five minutes with him in nearly a year and had caught him in the worst moment of his life earlier that evening. He was glad for his drink now.

"It is late, what do you want?"

"Such a pleasant greeting, is this how you greet all your guests?"

"I don't have guests, Minerva, now please answer me." He didn't have time for her; he just wanted to be left alone, left in peace. He turned away from her to stand before the dying fire. The remaining embers provided a little warmth as well as the only light in the room.

"I came to see how you were. I know that you are hardly going to be okay but when you go through something like this it is good to have somebody.. To have a friend."

He turned to face her with one of his best looks of anger and intimidation. "I have no friends, Minerva, as you have pointed out before. And why would you want to see how I am? I don't want your pity. You might have told yourself that checking on me would be some form of good will but I don't want your pity, so leave!"

He knew he had snapped at her but he honestly did not care at that moment in time. Being alone was all that was on his mind and he wasn't sure of what would actually get rid of her. He had reached out to her nearly a year ago to try and rekindle the friendship that they once had. But she had shot him down, sent him away and had very little contact with him since then. He'd gotten used to being completely alone, even surrounded by his colleagues. They didn't want anything to do with him and he was happy to oblige. But as much as he had expected her to storm off after his words she just moved further into the rooms and sat down on the sofa!

"You are an infuriating woman, Minerva McGonagall." He growled in a dangerously low voice.

"Oh, I know. Are you going to offer me a drink or are you going to make a lady get up and fetch one herself?"

He stared hard at the back of her head before grudgingly going to retrieve her a drink. It seemed that the witch was going to be a permanent fixture in his living quarters for at least an evening. He held out a small glass of firewhiskey to her and sat down in his armchair once she had taken it from him. He did his best to ignore her but he could feel her eyes on him almost permanently. Once more he asked the same question. "What do you want?"

"I've already told you, I want to see how you are."

"And what makes you think that I am anything but okay? What makes you think that if I was not okay I would be willing to speak to you about it?" He sat back ever so slightly.

"Severus, I saw you in Albus' office. I know that you are the one who found them and I know how much she meant to you.." He interrupted her harshly.

"You know nothing."

He could see her face momentarily drop but she masked it in an instant. "You loved her."

Hearing somebody point it out hit him harder than he could ever have imagined. Nobody had actually pointed out his love for Lily in a serious way before. Albus knew about it but he had just used it to his advantage, to a degree. This was different. He looked away and found a great interest in the crumbling embers in the fireplace. If he stared at them for long enough perhaps they would grow enough to engulf this room in fire and save him from such pain. But no luck, he had to face Minerva now. "Yes, I loved her."

"I'm sorry, Severus. Nobody should ever have to find somebody that they love in such a way.."

He shook his head then let it hang against his chest. He knew this position was unlike him but he could not muster the strength to even care. "It is my fault she is dead. It is all my fault that Lily now lies dead and her son has no Mother."

He didn't care about the boy but there was part of him that went against the rest of his being and kept insisting that he should care. Lily was dead but part of her remained on this planet in that little boy. It had only been a glimpse but he had seen her eyes in him.. That poor child who cried for his parents as they lay slaughtered before him.

He brought his hands up to his face and covered it once again, it was easier to hide behind them and wallow in pain and self hatred. For a moment he had even forgotten that Minerva was still in the room, he could just remember the site of her body and how limp she felt in his arms.