2-20-10. I was inspired to write this from a Facebook group, believe it or not. The group's title is the first line of this story. Well, it's not really a story. More like a drabble. But not exactly. Kind of like a reflection? I don't know. Whatever it is, it's too short to be a legit one-shot. But that's what I'm going to call it. I love Lily and Severus as a pairing, don't you?

Disclaimer: Lily is Rowling's. Severus is Rowling's. I can't even claim the plot, because there isn't really one.


I miss you. The old you. The new one sucks.

What happened? What went wrong? When did we become so different? Where along the road did we grow so far apart?

Yes, we were an odd pair. My friends despised you because of your greasy hair, your hooked nose, your seemingly dark and depressing manner. Your friends detested me because, according to them, the blood that runs through my veins makes me unworthy of the magical world. But you promised you wouldn't let anything or anyone come between us. You promised.

I can barely stand the sight of you now. Not because you disgust me, not because I hate you. No, I could never hate you. It's the look in your eyes every time you see me that causes me to look the other way. All that contempt, repugnance . . . It burns holes into my skin, through my flesh, right to my heart.

I loathe what you've become. What happened to the boy I spent my summers with? The boy who would sneak out with me at midnight so we could camp together in our special spot, the secluded clearing in the forest? The boy who wiped away my tears when I fell off my bike, or fought with my sister, or had a bad day? The boy who was willing to be my friend?

You're consumed. That's your problem. Consumed with the glory of the Dark Arts, the acceptance it wins you with your Pureblooded friends, the importance you feel when you see the fear you stir in others as you walk down the corridors. You may scare them, but you don't scare me. Yes, I am aware of what you're capable of, what type of evil your wand can create. Yet knowing that doesn't alarm me, or frighten me, or make me terrified. It just makes me sad.

Severus Snape, I miss you. We could have been, but now it's just too late. There's no turning back for you now.