Author's Note: Please note this is the edited edition. All the chapters are currently being reposted, I had planned on posting the edits at a later date, however I found a beta who would help me out. Not all of the Grammer is corrected, but a bulk of the spelling is.

Prologue:

It was a crisp autumn, the air was damp and the ground underfoot was slightly wet from the rain which had fallen earlier. Leaves which had once been on the now barren trees had fallen and covered the path. It was dark as midnight approached, and a gloomy air had settled over a small village of houses. Standing under the light of the full moon before what had once been a home was a figure dressed in black, he was tall and rather thin with his hands at his side, barely visible from under the long sleeves he wore, the black cloak which had surrounded the figure pooled behind him, it's long sleeved swayed in the wind as it blew gently through the silent village. Sallow hands stood out from the night but not nearly as much as a small bouquet of white lilies.

It had taken the man days to find one place which had pure white lilies this time of year, every year he hunted for the flowers for the woman he loved. Every year without fail he would find them and give them to her. Although the fire had long been extinguished the scent of wood burning filled the man's nose, and that eerie silence which had refused to leave him rung in them. Black eyes closed as the man grimaced in pain, that day he lost everything. His face was even paler in the moonlight and contrasted greatly against the curtains of black hair he had. His nose was rather large and hooked, a gift from his father after one too many blows. His lips pressed together once more forming a thin line before he opened his eyes and surveyed what was left of it. Most of it had fallen down; the entire second floor's roof had collapsed inward. The initial blast had taken out part of the roof; he could still remember climbing over the rubble to get inside. The windows were broken now, the walls were slowly falling apart and the numbers and name which had once proclaimed the house as the residence of the Potters had tarnished.

He had lost everything and yet nothing at the same time, she wasn't his, she belonged to Potter. Hesitantly long fingers slipped out from the long sleeves of the robe and gently caressed the closed gate of the house; the wood was weathered and harsh to the touch. His potion stained fingers rested on the gate for a moment as he remembered how the house had once looked. The gardens had been filled with greenery, flowers bloomed and the gate was smooth and stained, now it looked as though it had been dragged out of a garbage heap, the perennials had withered away from the lack of care and the vines which had covered the rest of the gate started to take over the house itself. It had been ten years, a decade, and yet he still couldn't do it. He couldn't cross the threshold, far too many memories were there, memories of a life he knew he could never have.

The man turned on his heel and began to stride to an all too familiar destination, the end. His black, pointed boots clicked as he continued to walk down the street, his robe bellowed behind him as he cradled the delicate white flowers in his hands. They were for her, even if he could never have her, he still loved her. He smiled grimly as he remembered the woman's fiery red hair which matched her temper all too well. Her small nose and sweet cheeks and finally those eyes, her beautiful doelike emerald green eyes. Standing before him was the one statue he couldn't stand, the Potters in all their glory, a reminded again of what he had lost so long ago. He continued on his path to the cemetery and before he even realized it found himself standing before a familiar sight, a headstone with two names, James and Lily Potter. No matter how many times he had seen it, his emotions still got the best of him, a chill sliced into him and caused him to tremble. Hesitantly he slipped his fingers over the damp and cold headstone. They traced the smooth granite and slowly lowered to run over her name, Lily's name.

He loved her with all his heart, and yet she had chosen Potter, he had known her for years before they even went to Hogwarts only for him to lose her. "Hi Lily," he rasped as he fought back a fresh wave of grief. After a moment he bent to the ground and knelt before her, "It's that time of year again, your son will be coming to Hogwarts soon," he said softly as he felt the supple petals of the lilies in his hands. "Things have gotten dark without you around, I'm scared of the world Harry will be walking into," he stated sadly, he had given up fearing the world in which he was sliding into quickly, he had chosen to slip into the dark. "I managed to get Albus to allow me to leave the castle tonight, he nearly denied me, silly isn't it?" he asked sadly as he turned his attention to the flowers, "I had to hunt for them this year, every year they are getting harder and harder to find."

He smiled sadly at the flowers, he remembered the first time he had given her a lily, it was white as well, they were nine years old sitting in their favorite spot. He had managed to flitch a lily from the neighbor's garden. The large flower was soft to the touch; it reminded him of her skin and tender touch whenever he was hurt. He could remember how she helped patch him up after Tobias beat him. He had held the flower out to the girl and watched as her face lit up with joy, her words rang in his ears, "Sev it's beautiful," she gushed. She was the only one allowed to call him that, Sev, it was a nickname reserved just for her. He demanded that everyone else call him Severus, although Lucius never listened to him and called him Sev anyway, which he yelled about, only she could say it. She eagerly took the flower and tucked it behind her ear, the resilient white petals of the flower stood out against her fiery red hair, the golden sunlight made her glow like an angel. He shook his head and sighed, he never told her, he placed the flowers on the ground and pulled out an all too familiar ebony wand. With a simple movement he placed a charm on the flowers so that they would remain in bloom for the rest of the year until his return. He slowly rose from the earth and gazed longingly at the stone. "I love you, I have always loved you," he whispered as he touched the cold stone once more before turning on his heel and aparating back to a castle filled with young witches and wizards.

All of whom had seemed to have never learned just what happened that All Hallows Eve Night, the night he would never forget from 10 years ago, the night he lost his Lily.