Professor Sherlock Forester watched in distress, not intending to intervene he could only shake his head and wait. Snape lingered, his gaze fixed on the quaint dwelling before finally ingesting the Polyjuice potion. His appearance rapidly altered - his hair transformed from lank and greasy to freshly-washed and silky. His face, previously furrowed with age, regained its youthful smoothness. All traces of Professor Severus Snape vanished, leaving behind a striking seventeen-year-old. Only the glint of wisdom in his eyes betrayed his true age. Snape traversed the fenced yard and stepped into the garden.
The memories of his adolescence flooded back. He remembered Lily's bedroom on the far-right corner of the ground floor. They used to communicate through that very window in the days before their friendship fell apart, imagining the possibilities of their future in Hogwarts. Snape recalled the day he had secretly paid a visit to meet Lily during the summer of their second year, only to be caught by her sister, Petunia. She denounced him as a freak, ranting to her mother about how he supposedly had trampled the lawn.
A small yard nestled behind the building, where Snape and Lily often found solace under the night sky during the summers. They loved to sit on the stone wall and watch the stars. Of course the sky in Cokeworth was never clear, but they didn't let that stop them from trying to make out the constellations they had learnt about in Astronomy class.
Snape hadn't ever envisioned himself seeing this courtyard again. He'd fantasized, certainly, but these were mere dreams. Now he found himself standing there in reality, the person he craved for but a window away. He could feel his eyes growing a little moist as ruminated over past events. Snape approached the window, it was veiled by curtains from the inside. He gently tapped the glass and waited.
"Is someone there?" came a drowsy voice from within, one that had haunted his dreams for over a decade. He swallowed hard, his voice trembling with emotion as he revealed his identity. "It's me, Severus."
There was a brief lapse in conversation. Lily hesitated before getting out of bed to draw back the curtain. A beautiful girl, with wavy auburn hair, her brows furrowed in confusion, looked at Snape.
The facade crumbled. Emotions flooded Snape's eyes as his tears quietly traced the contour of his face. He stared helplessly at Lily, the sight of her leaving him as paralyzed as a wooden doll.
From the other side of the window, Lily was slightly taken aback by Snape's emotional display. She unlatched the window. "Why are you here, Snape?" She queried, watching the entire spectacle unfold.
A tearful Snape, leaning against the wall, uttered a meek yet miserable apology. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, Lily I- What I said... it's truly horrible, I was stupid.."
Lily looked impassively, her lips pursed and her voice cold as she responded."It doesn't matter how many times you say sorry. I'm never gonna accept your apologies, they don't change what happened!"
Desolately, Snape raised his head to meet her gaze, his eyes silently pleading. He'd never begged anyone like this before - for forgiveness. "I'm sorry.. I wish for nothing but your forgiveness, Lily... That's all that matters... I would give up anything.. Please forgive me."
The misplaced utterances of vengeance against Sirius Black and other Gryffindors that Snape had previously voiced to Sherlock now seemed insignificant. All he longed for was a single word of forgiveness from Lily. Yet she met his plea with stony indifference.
Lily's eyes bore into Snape's. "Is that so, Snape?" Her voice dripped with contempt. "You're famous, Snape, everyone in Slytherin knows how talented you are at Dark Magic! You have new friends now too, don't you? Rosier, Wilkes, Mulciber, and don't forget your big brother, Lucius Malfoy! You still keep in touch with him, right?"
She took a step closer to the window, her body tense with anger. "You don't even care at all that he's joined Voldemort."
Her hands trembled as she pointed an accusatory finger at Snape. "You're one of them now, one of Voldemort's mindless followers! So how could I believe that you regret your words if you believe his idiotic rhetoric? You're not sorry for what you said to me; you're sorry for yourself. What you regret is that abandoning your morals just to befriend those zealots has had actual consequences, not that you betrayed my trust or hurt my feelings."
Steadying her breath she lowered her head before concluding with a light shake of her head, "At least be a man and stand behind your beliefs."
Snape opened his mouth to retort, but no words came out. Lily was right, every statement stinging with bitter truth. The 'Mudblood' incident was just the final blow to their deteriorating friendship. It wasn't a single harmless slip-up, Snape's obsession with Dark Magic and his affiliation with pure-blood supremacists had driven a wedge in their friendship long before. His path had deviated profoundly from Lily's. Snape stuttered, his promises echoing through the silence. "I.. I promise, I will cut all ties with them! And I won't study any more Dark Magic! I swear.. Please believe me, I won't do anything you disapprove of anymore.. I'm determined to change! I'll do anything.. anything for you."
Yet Lily remained unaffected. She calmly replied, "I'm tired, Severus, tired of hearing about your promises. You keep saying you'll change but you never do."
"I've thought about this a lot this summer, Snape" said Lily, her tone now measured and eyes steady as they met the disarrayed form of Severus Snape. She refrained from addressing him by his first name.
"Back in our fourth year, when you tried to convince me to study dark arts alongside you, that was my first hint. You're just like the other Slytherins, you just love tormenting others. And you don't even hide your admiration for Voldemort and his theories. I know you agree with his hateful words. Sometimes I wonder if you've always been like this and I was just too blind to see it."
"Our friendship died a long time ago and nothing you say or do will change that. You don't need my forgiveness and I won't lie to you and say I don't resent you. Don't talk to me again."
Severus's complexion became an unhealthy pallor, his eyes vacant and lost. He found himself unable to exhale a single conveyance of his misery. When Sherlock had transported him back in time, he had projected thoughts that by presenting an earnest and sincere apology to Lily, she would grant him amnesty. Yet, this was just a silly dream that couldn't be further from reality. His past actions, his transgressions couldn't be alleviated with a mere meek apology or pledge. Had Sherlock brought him back a year or two earlier, to 1975, he might have yet had an opportunity for reparation. But by now it was already too late.
On the Knight Bus, he had conspired that if Lily decided to forgive him, he would instantly take over from his current self. Following their graduation from Hogwarts, he fantasized of vanishing into distant lands with her, leaving Britain behind, altering future events, and commanding fate itself to vanish. However, those were merely illusions weaved by his own mind.
"It's late, I'm going to bed," Lily said lightly, before shutting the window. A nerve-wracked Severus clung to the window frame, his gaze desperately fixed on Lily. "I understand how you feel and even if you never talk to me again please let me ask one thing of you, that you never date James Potter! Not for my sake, but because he's dangerous! His recklessness will cost you your life!"
Upon hearing this, Lily's expression adopted a furious cast. "Even if we were best friends you couldn't tell me who I'm allowed to date! I make far better life choices than you, I will never take advice from someone who's buddy buddy with Malfoy!" she spat back.
"No, Lily! Please, I implore you, believe me! You mustn't be with him! That man will be your ruin, he... he will cause your death!" Their clamor was of such volume it disturbed Petunia, who resided in the floor above. She flung open her window, shrieking a forewarning. "Get off of our lawn you disgusting, creepy freak! If you two don't shut up I'll tell Mom!"
The sound of a loud "Bang!" reverberated as Lily forcefully shut her window before drawing the curtains and dousing the desk lamp's light. In stark contrast to the tranquility of night, Severus stood frozen by Lily's window, a shell devoid of spirit.
Sherlock allowed a soft sigh to escape his lips as he approached Snape, shaking his head at his hapless state. He took Severus's arm, much like a puppeteer guiding his wooden performer, and shuffled him away from the Evans' residence. "Let's just go," Sherlock said, before adding "This isn't the end of the world, keep your head up."
While Lily had berated Snape, Sherlock had leaned against the wall eavesdropping on their exchange. As he walked aimlessly down the dark and silent streets with Snape trailing behind, Sherlock knew that consoling words weren't what Severus needed. If they would've sufficed, Snape wouldn't be haunted by regret decades later. They came across a Muggle pub that was still open and Sherlock guided Severus inside.
The town was small, with few people choosing to wander at night, so the pub was nearly empty. Sherlock located an unoccupied table in the corner and sat down across Snape, tossing a Galleon to the bartender scrubbing glasses, prompting him to authenticate it. He had stashed some Muggle currency for emergencies, but the banknotes were in the 90s, they wouldn't be valid yet. Thus, he had resigned himself to paying with Galleons. "A glass of whiskey, rum, or tequila, whichever is your strongest."
The bartender, after verifying the Galleon's authenticity, followed Sherlock's order and served them two bottles of whiskey. "Just ask if you want any more, sir," he offered.
Sherlock dismissed the bartender with a wave of his hand, thereafter pouring both himself and Snape a generous measure of whiskey. Snape sat gazing blankly at the amber liquid in his glass, seemingly remote from the world around him.
"Nothing more can be said, Severus," Sherlock proclaimed after taking in Snape's state. He raised his own glass, "Drink up, it'll numb your darkest thoughts for a while."
At this, Snape stirred for the first time. He picked up the glass, his pallid and unkempt countenance reflecting off the polished surface, and drank it down in one swift motion.