Title: The Memory
Word Count: 1352
Author's Notes: Written for a comp. It's basically about the few hours of each year that Severus becomes the boy that Lily Evans loved. Afterwards he becomes the cold shell of a man that is Severus Snape, of course. I would not presume to suggest that he is this soft man all the time. That would be a ridiculous claim and I would laugh if anyone thought that. Snape is of course a sour puss old man. He reminds me of a crotchety old grandma. Elder Snape is in Harry's Sixth Year. Young Snape is in his own Fifth Year. A few months after this scene in both times it seems that Dumbledore will be killed and Lily will sadly end their friendship.
'Open your eyes,' Her voice grabbed ahold of the wind and rode into his ears, filling them with a sound of the past. He almost turned to see her, but knew that she was not there. If he spun in alarm, as had been his reaction the first time her voice had come to him after her death on this very spot, his eyes would rest on a bare expanse of stones piled one on top of the other to form a tower. The only way to see her, the source of the voice, was too close his eyes, so that is what he did.
'Sev! Open Them!' She said again, and he smiled as his eyes opened. He saw nothing initially. It was well past time that they should be out, or perhaps well before time they should be out depending on how one looked at it, especially on top of the Astronomy Tower, but she had asked him to join her, and he had, of course. His eyes began to adjust, he imagined his pupils growing to accommodate for the darkness of the night surrounding him, enveloping him and the girl standing in front of him, who was quickly coming into sight. It didn't really matter if the darkness continued to hide her. He didn't need to actually need to see her anyway. He had long ago memorized her face down to the very last freckle.
He opened his eyes at the memory of her face, her beautiful green eyes flashing brilliantly at the sight of him. Shaking, he searched for something among the stones and seemed to find it. He ran a finger along one stone. It was etched with two letters. Two letters that she had scratched in with her wand before they had left that night. He first ran his finger over the 'L' and then the 'S.' These letters were his only reassurance that this night had once happened. It was not just the imagination of a desperate man, but the memory of a boy who once loved a girl with all his heart. He felt a surge of emotion rush through him, but he did not let it deter him. He spread a blanket against the wall and sat atop it, pulling two more blankets over his legs while he stared into the distance. He waited for a few moments and closed his eyes again.
She reached for him and he extended his hand and took hers. It was cold. He had expected nothing else. It was after all January and the cold was at biting his face, testing his devotion to her. Do you care enough to freeze to death? It seemed to ask, mocking him as she pulled him toward a lump against the wall. 'Help me spread this out so we don't die of cold.' She told him. He released her hand reluctantly and did as she asked. One of the blankets went under them. He couldn't help but notice it was red and gold, but he didn't remark on it. They didn't need to fight about that. Not now, not tonight when she so obviously was happy to see him. They sat next to each other, backs against the stones, her head resting on his shoulder, their hands held together over the two blankets covering them.
A noise from above and behind him startled his eyes open once more and his torso spun. He took in the sight of Fawkes and shook his head. He extended his hand to the bird slowly and ran a single finger over a single red and gold feather. 'I've been waiting for you.' He muttered and Fawkes did not respond. He did not mind the phoenix's company at all. It was as if this wouldn't be the same without some other form of life atop the tower with him, and Fawkes always showed on this night. Always. He let his head fall back against the stone wall and closed his eyes again, inviting the memories back.
'Sev.' They had been waiting for over half an hour now and neither of them had spoken. 'Will you promise me something?' She lifted her head from it's place on his shoulder and looked up at him as if he might deny her this thing she was about to ask for, when they both knew he had never, and could never deny her anything. 'Yes, Lily. What is it?' He watched her eyes light up and her grin widen. 'Promise me you will come back here every year on this day to watch the sunrise with me.' She put her free hand on his cheek. It was warmer from being under the protection of the blankets and he felt dizzy at her touch. 'I promise.'
He looked forward and checked on the progress. In the distance, beyond the forest there was a hint of orange against the black. He put his hands against his face and felt the tears there. They were rolling gently down his face. He had never missed this night, never. Even when they had stopped speaking they had both shown this night to watch the sun rising over the forest in silence. She had even fallen into his arms that night and cried against his shoulder. He knew it was his fault. The tears she cried were always his fault. He was no fool. He had known that. That was why he didn't try to stop her when she hurried away or explain to her once again that it wasn't the same with her. She wasn't like the rest of those muggle borns. He loved her. It wasn't just the promise that kept him coming here every year, even though she had been dead for fifteen years. It was the memory. It was most vivid when he sat here against the wall where it had happened, the thing that had happened that first night they had come here before she had etched their initials into the wall. He leaned his head back again and shut his eyes firmly again.
'Lily.' He croaked, his voice unsteady. 'Yes?' She inquired looking from the dazzling reds, oranges, yellows, blues, and blacks to him, her smile so large he thought it must be hurting her to be so happy. 'I wanted to tell you something tonight, something I've been thinking about for a long time.' He was quiet and tried to gage her reaction. He could have sworn he saw a glimmer of hope pass over her face for a moment. 'Yes?" She asked again and he looked down at their locked fingers, and back at her. 'I ...' Speech failed him then, the words he had muttered under his breath all week floated into the sunrise as she watched his closely. Instead of chasing the words and tugging them back to help him, he used the resources at hand and pressed his lips to hers. He was shocked for a moment and pulled away from her after a moment, but she followed him and their hands fell apart so that she could place a hand on each side of his face and keep him kissing her. After the most perfect moment of his life had passed, their foreheads pressed together, third breath forming puffs of smoke in front of them.
There was something wet falling onto his face and he opened his eyes to see that it was Fawkes. The phoenix was crying onto his face, mixing his magical tears with Severus' rather ordinary tears. This startled him and he stared into Fawkes' eyes, searching them for the meaning behind his tears. He found only understanding there and he felt a wave of gratitude engulf him. 'I feel the same way.' He told the phoenix and watched the sky fill with radiant early morning light. It was a small thing, these trips to the Astronomy Tower, but it gave him back the memory each time as vivid and full of love as the night he had lived it.