There was no pity in her expression, thank God, nor was there anxiety for her own safety. It was fear. Not for herself, but for him. Not for her, the girl who lived, breathed, embodied innocence and beauty. Not for this fragile flower in a barren wasteland. But for him, Severus Snape.

Severus Snape, the boy with dirty clothes.

Severus Snape, the boy from a malfunctioning family.

Severus Snape, who was akin to a weed in the presence of Lily

Severus Snape who, more than perhaps anyone else, belonged here, amidst the broken objects and broken people that constituted Spinner's End.

Why had she come? Didn't she know of the dangers that resided here? Didn't she understand that he had worked, long and hard, to prevent her from arriving? Didn't she know why every minute spent with her was so joyful, so full of life?

Didn't she know that she was the most uncharacteristic part of his life, and he intended to keep it that way?

His thoughts were interrupted at the sight of her smile: shy, uncertain, questioning. "Hello," she said.

Two syllables, yet so full of sincerity, of meaning, that he knew she could not stay.

"Go home, Lily," he told her. It was soft, imploring. He knew that his father would have his hide if he heard him speaking so quietly, respectfully, to the girl on their front step. He knew that he would be dead if his mother knew of her bloodline, or lack thereof. And still he said it that way, for what other way was there to say it? She was gentle, and she needed to be treated gingerly, no matter the cost.

His heart almost stopped beating when she said, just as evenly, "I am." The unspoken words lingered in the air between them: Because you are here. And he could have died a happy death when she leaned in to his ear and said, "Be careful, Severus. For me."

He watched her as she retreated into the sunset, fiery hair set aglow by the halo of the sun. He reached up and absentmindedly touched the ear she had breathed her sweet words into. Although he could not follow her, he watched her until she retreated from sight. And then, though he knew he would receive the beating of his life for it, he grinned idiotically.

And even as he closed the door as far as it would go, which was admittedly not very far, what with the broken hinge, he was unable to remove it from his face.

A/N: This is my first foray into the lovely Harry Potter fandom. Although the most recent story I have written, it is most definitely not the third. Someday, I will get around to publishing all of the other stories I have all over the place. Someday. Not today. Hope you enjoyed it! And yes, I realize that Snape's mother married a Muggle. She was also a pure-blood, so I am taking the liberty of making her return to a pure-blood mindset after her relationship with her Muggle husband took an abusive turn.