They Live

I hated, no, loathed James Potter and all those that surrounded him. Except, obviously, Lily. I didn't hate Lily. Who, in his right mind, could ever hate Lily? She had a delightful and easygoing personality, bewitching green eyes and every single charmer's attributes. James Potter, of course, hated Lily. But he never had a right mind.

All those drooling girls that followed him everywhere were nothing compared to Lily. She had a personality, could impose herself when necessary and was the only one that could resist Potter's sickening smiles.

Lily Evans was the reason. She ruined my whole life without even knowing it. If she had learnt about it, she'd probably think it incredibly funny.

She was a Gryffindor. Brave. If the crowd was running one way and she didn't think that was the right way to go, she was not afraid to follow other direction, even if she was alone. That's what I admired in her. That's why I, a Slytherin, fell in love with her.

She, of course, never suspected of my admiration. Instead, she played pranks on me. She ended up even helping those damned Marauders to do it, too. Those names I'll never forget. James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. Maybe it was that obsession with pranks what united James and her. Wasn't fate ironic? The only girl I ever loved, married my very worst enemy. United on their hate for me.

Sirius Black was an arrogant guy; a ladies'-man. He was Potter's only rival on that subject. He was bright, though, I have to admit it. He always had one of the school top grades. But he hated me almost as much as I did him. From my point of view, he was the enemy's best friend. Thus, enemy altogether.

Remus Lupin. Him and his friends decided to play a little "prank" on me that nearly cost me my life. They went too far. Lupin is a werewolf, he was bitten before coming to Hogwarts. Black told me how to get to the place of his transformation. They probably wanted me bitten, also a werewolf, or dead. Potter, however, chickened at the last minute and got me out of there. I did discover Lupin's secret, though. The Headmaster made me swear I wouldn't say it to anyone. He was always too lenient with the Marauders. Everyone was, since they loved detentions and the best punishment was not to give any – but they ended up getting'em anyway.

Peter Pettigrew had been always a little weak one. He used to give us info on the Marauders' next pranks. I despised him even more for that. He didn't mind betraying for money or even sweets his best friends' secret. There was something, though, he never told us. I don't know why, but seemingly it'd get him into trouble as well.

I fell in love with Lily Evans the first time I saw her with her wand lifted, hexing Potter. It wasn't so much for the fact that she knew intrinsicate curses and incantations; I knew them as well. Nevertheless, only the fact of not bowing to adore His Quiddich Majesty James Potter and daring to defy his absolute authority over the entire Hogwarts female population gave me the knowledge there was something special about her.

She was different. She, not losing her dignified appearance, could charm a simple tantallegra or a complex voclumbdidleraji. She was always elegant and sharp, no matter what.

The only thing that stopped me from running in her direction, the very thing that prevented me from telling her about how I truly felt was my pride. I so wanted to sit down beside her and tell her about my love, but no. I was too proud to mess with it. I had to let it die out. A Slytherin, falling in love with one of the Gryffindor leaders? It just couldn't happen. It wasn't acceptable.

My knowledge of advanced magic cast somewhat of a fear over most of the people that would otherwise fight me. However, it didn't intimidate Potter and Black. In fact, I think that made their pranks against me be "funnier". And it, for sure, didn't intimidate Lily.

Lily, intimidated? I could easily imagine that, if Voldemort appeared right in front of her when she was reading or absorbed doing anything of that sort and he told her to face him and tell him something, she'd probably just say nonchalantly "Give me a break!". That would definitely be Lily's reaction. And that's why I loved her.

When the Marauders played pranks on me or Lucius (their favourite targets), I'd always prevent Lucius from being too violent against Lily. I tried to protect her. When I'd have my vengeances, I'd always manage to leave Lily out of it. Maybe she caught it, she wasn't dumb, but neither was I. I emptied my stock of excuses and creativity so that I could save her from those little humiliating pranks. I hated to descend to their level, but I couldn't exactly torture them with Crucio unless I wanted to go to Azkaban for a lifetime.

Oh, I could think of so many reasons to love her… So many, so abundant, so numerous, so unique… And yet every single one of them blended perfectly together and formed her personality.

I remember wondering why didn't Potter fall for her. That despicable werewolf and Black did. They were soon over it, though, when (I suppose) Lily drew the line and told them they were her best friends, but that was all. Potter just wouldn't. They'd spend half the day fighting each other, the other half fighting us Slytherins, still had top marks and Lily could manage somehow to take care of her beautiful auburn hair, deep green eyes and smooth white skin, not to mention be sociable with all students and chatting at least with half of the students every day.

Remnants of their discussions are still in my mind… He called her ugly. As if! If Lily was ugly, then… Beauty mustn't exist. He called her dumb. One of the brightest students at the school. He called her Slytherins' friend. I wish! The only reason at Hogwarts Lily ever approached a Slytherin group smiling was for pranks. She called him brainless git, stupid, asshole, unbearable, dull… There was no one better than Lily to describe with details Potter's personality.

When they died, I couldn't believe it. She couldn't die. She was immortal, too perfect to do something as down to earth as dying. I had never seen her weaken, how could she now not anymore be able to talk back when people offended her? Actually… I had seen her fragile. I had a peak on her weakness once. That weakness was love. The only time I saw Lily down, really low and defenceless, was when her parents were killed. Seeing her sitting by a tree, crying and trembling, forced me to a decision.

The summer before the Evans' killing, I had been ordered a Death Eater. My father was part of Voldemort's elite, and I was welcomed into their inner circle because of him, not to mention my highly accurate Potions and curses skills. And then I saw the very person I cared for above any other crying in despair because of something people I knew and fellowshipped with had done.

The next morning Lily was nowhere to be seen. I assumed she was still mourning her mom and dad. But, at breakfast, I received a letter from my dad which read:

"Severus,

I hope this letter reaches you safely. For some reason the owl returned with my last letter. It was rather a pity. Our Lord gave me the commission of going with you and your friend Malfoy to perform an ordinary work. He wanted us to finish off a couple of Muggles, but I couldn't find you, so I went only with Lucius. His skills are great, actually. I shall recommend him greatly. But I told our Lord that you were there, too. So our family, together with young Mr. Malfoy, is officially the responsible for the deaths of Mr. and Mrs. Evens, whatever their names are. I just thought you'd like to know. Next time I count on you to go.

Dad."

Lucius came over to me and said I owed him one. That was it. My world came tumbling down. I felt as if I had been there. To my utter disgust, the next few hours many of my fellow Slytherins came congratulate me for having finally defeated Lily. But I didn't want to defeat Lily. I would never want her humiliated, destroyed. No! I wanted her always proud and strong; not suffering and downcast.

She, the next day, tried to be brave. She came down for breakfast, and even Potter maintained a distance from her. He respected what she was going through, but the Slytherins didn't. They went there and mocked her until she burst into tears again and returned to the common room, without even lifting her wand. Now, to anyone that knew her temper, that was something to worry about.

That afternoon, I couldn't bring myself to concentrate on the classes. Even at professor Taryck's class, my favourite, I just couldn't. Especially in Taryck's: Potions, with the Gryffindors.

I was afraid of facing her. Scared by the fact that I might just burst into tears or make a fool out of myself if she talks to me in the state she was, hurt overflowing her being.

After class, she approached my table. I was even more frightened. The only reason she ever approached any of us Slytherins was for pranks, but I knew very well she wouldn't prank me in that state.

"Snape," she said quietly, "I heard some of your friends saying that you killed my parents. Is that true? Do you hate me so much you killed my family?"

I spoke nothing. "Did you act by your own free will or did you obey someone's orders?"

Still silence. "Answer me! Severus Snape, did you kill my parents because you have something against me or are you a Death Eater?"

I looked up and our eyes met.

"Lily, I am a Death Eater. I was ordered to kill your parents, yes. But I didn't go. My father went with Lucius. But… it's as good as if I had killed them. I'm sorry, I…"

"You didn't kill them?"

"No, I didn't. But I as good…" I was sure she didn't believe me, but her interruption assured me she did.

"You did not. That's all I wanted to know. I know you might have all the worst qualities, but I'm sure you're truthful. Thank you."

She glided away, or so it seemed in my perspective of the situation. She didn't comment my being a servant of Lord Voldemort; she merely thanked me for not having killed her parents. But would I be able to face the children of my other victims? Undoubtedly, being a Death Eater required a curriculum full of deaths and pain. Surely Voldemort would not want a servant who weakened when facing the remnants of the slaughters. One who quailed not facing danger but trembled before the consequences?

I rose and went straight to the headmaster's office. He soberly greeted me. Without doubt he had heard about my reputation.

"Hello, Severus."

"Headmaster, I need to talk to someone. I'm feeling horrible, can't think properly."

"Does it have anything to do with…"

"Yes."

He furrowed his eyebrows and I feared a bit the flash of anger that obscured his usual twinkling blue eyes.

I told him everything. Everything. From the Dark Lord to Lily, he then knew all one could know about me. He was the only one that knew how I truly felt.

"Well, and what do you want to do about it?"

"I thought it was quite cool to be ordered a Death Eater, at first. Everyone would fear and respect me, I was told. But now… I saw the bad side of it. It's not worth it. The excitement is nothing compared to the pain others feel."

"But I'm going to ask again. What do you wish to do about that?"

"I'll talk to the Dark Lord."

"Do you think he will… forgive you?"

"No. Of course he won't."

"So…"

"I'll try."

"Good luck, then."

"Don't tell anyone, please."

"Of course. Thank you for telling me. It must be hard for you to face all the people that think you killed Lily's parents."

"Especially for the fact that it's Lily's parents."

"And I suppose your Slytherin colleagues are spreading the rumours dutifully."

"Soon I'll be thrown into Azkaban for killing them."

I never went to Azkaban, thanks to Dumbledore. I continued to attend the Death Eaters' meetings, and joined the Order of the Phoenix, giving its members information on the next killings.

I was frankly surprised when Sirius was the one that betrayed the Potters. Pettigrew was a Death Eater. But he, too, sold Voldemort's secrets and his next targets to Dumbledore. I fear he played both sides. But it was Sirius that did. He seemed rather passionate on the anti-Voldemort cause, and somehow didn't seem to me a likely person to be a dark wizard. But he did, and I spurn him even more for that. Stupid Pettigrew tried to kill him… He! The one that was always left behind, wanted to kill who they said was Voldemort's right hand.

I so wanted to kill him. I had destroyed my whole life because of her. My entire future. He didn't hesitate when he chose to betray her. How could anyone betray her? How could anyone even wish anything against those piercing green eyes, lest they find themselves under the weight of her hurt look… But at him she couldn't look with a hurt expression.

She couldn't talk back. She couldn't cry bitterly because their best friend had betrayed her husband and her. She was unable to face him and make him feel sorry. She was dead.

Dead. Dead. Deceased. They said she died for a greater cause. What could be greater than Lily?

With her so went Voldemort. He is nowhere to be seen, now. He vanished after he killed her, when he tried to finish off their son.

He probably looked into Harry's eyes. Lily looked at him fiercely from within her child's soul. He must have backed off. She had died for that kid to live. Voldemort wouldn't dare defying Lily's last wish.

He disappeared. He did dare, and he was killed by Lily's will power. Even in her death she was great and merciful: granted us, granted her kid the pleasure of living in a world without Voldemort.

After she died, I was lost. A year later, I started teaching in Hogwarts, under Dumbledore's supervision. He trusted me, even though some of the other teachers knew or suspected I had been a Death Eater and were extremely sceptical.

Now it has been nearly ten years from that day. Beginning of September, a new class is starting. I teach Potions, and the class before me is made of a mixture of Gryffindors and Slytherins. The class I attended. The class she attended.

I glanced up and, as a ghost from the past, James Potter was there. The man that had stolen Lily from me. Suddenly, in a realization, I noticed it wasn't James. It was Harry. I surveyed him with a look of hate. No, it was more than hate. Loath. The same expression that, fifteen years earlier, I used to face his father.

He looked up, unflinching at my hatred-filled eyes. Suddenly, it wasn't him anymore. It was Lily Evans, those piercing green eyes, who looked at me, not afraid of my threats. Always brave, standing strong. I quickly looked away, I could sense a lump in my throat. I quickly swallowed it. "Come on, Severus. That's James Potter's kid." Unable to shake, once more, Lily's green eyes off my mind, I called his name for the first time in the presence list of my class, as I would do for many years still.

"Harry Potter."

He didn't even bother to answer. He knew I could recognize him. If he did answer, I didn't hear. All I could see now was James Potter's self-assured, proud temper. Now I paid closer attention to his most famous attribute: the thin, bolt-shaped scar on his forehead.

Harry Potter was now famous; the death of his parents and Voldemort's inability to kill him had made him reach the status of a hero of the magical world. Every single person knew his name and admired him.

However, I didn't see him. All I wanted to do was to knock off James Potter's disgusting ego. I asked him a question I was sure he didn't know the answer. He didn't know. I asked another one. He remained unknowing. I made a comment on how fame was fickle.

He glared at me with Lily's eyes. I looked away. I couldn't stand to see those eyes glaring at me, the very eyes I had been fighting to forget for ten years.

I look at him, I see the insufferable James Potter. He looks at me, I see Lily. Lily Evans.

And with such confused feelings I face one more year of students. I should be prepared to face them by now. But I'm not prepared. I am surely not prepared to see Lily's eyes all over again or Potter's ego.

I, Severus Snape, am not prepared to face Lily Evans and James Potter for seven more years. They are dead, some say. But they live, oh yes, they live. And here is Harry Potter to testify of that.