Sunrise – Chapter 1
As the fingers of dawn curled around the edges of the blackout curtains, Severus Snape opened one eye. He yawned as he watched the quick haphazard progress of a tiny black beetle scuttling across a rough wooden beam.
He listened to the wind whistle around the small stone cottage that stood in solitude on a heather covered cliff. There were sounds of waves of the grey churning sea crashing against the rock below. It was a stormy day. Snape was pleased. He wasn't in the mood for sunshine.
He closed his eye and sank into the darkness. So, this was what freedom felt like. It was an odd sensation. He was supposed to be dead. Or maybe that was would have preferred to be dead.
When the Order had found out about Nagini, Dumbledore had asked him to develop anti-venom. It had taken all his considerable skill to produce something he thought would work. The only issue was that because it was based on phoenix tears, it would only work for those who were good of heart. After Arthur Weasley was attacked, Dumbledore had asked the whole Order take it, including Snape. Snape had scoffed at the idea. He knew it was going to be a waste of a brilliant complex potion. It would never work for him. He had made too many mistakes. However, after much pestering, he had eventually complied with Dumbledore's wishes.
After his encounter with Nagini and Voldemort, he had expected to die. He was frustrated that he had failed at the one good thing he had tried to do in his life. His job had been to help keep Lily's boy safe. It was the least he could do for her. And now he was dying and Voldemort was still strong.
When he had seen Harry, he had seen Lily's eyes and tears started to roll down his face. He had wanted the boy to know. He had wanted him to know that he was sorry. He was so sorry. He would have given anything in the world to undo what he had done. He needed the boy to be strong. He needed the boy to survive. He needed to know that Lily would forgive him.
When Snape had woken some time later, writhing in pain, he had laughed in astonishment and exasperation that apparently the universe wasn't done with him yet. He had stumbled to his feet and realized that there was no pain in his arm. His Dark Mark had disappeared. The boy had been successful. Voldemort was defeated.
Still in a daze, he had staggered from the Shrieking Shack and almost fell across a small group of corpses. Lifeless eyes stared at him from the ashen faces of the young witches and wizards. He didn't recognize them and although he had seen death before, he still felt his stomach lurch. It knew it would be worse than that at Hogwarts.
It was then the dilemma he faced hit him hard. He could return to the school and help with the rebuilding or he could flee. The Golden Trio thought him dead and it would be a while before anyone thought to look for his body.
It was a moment of selfishness but he grabbed one of the young wizard's wands and apparated to the cottage. He had acquired it years ago as a hideaway. It was miles away from any sort of civilization and he had enchanted it, to make it unplottable and untraceable.
He had collapsed on the bed and sank into a deep fever driven sleep. He had not slept peacefully. His memories had haunded his dreams. His mother, Lily, James Potter, Dumbledore, Malfoy and Voldemort were all there, circling in his head, reminding him of all his bad decisions and pain.
He had woken up shivering and had pulled himself in excruciating steps towards his potions cupboard. He swallowed a number of vials and sank to his knees as relief from the pain washed over him.
That had been yesterday and he had taken enough Dreamless Sleep to rest peacefully through the night.
Snape opened his eyes and rose from his bed. He took a deep breath and sighed. He felt numb. For the first time in his life, he had no purpose. He had spent his childhood plotting his escape from his parents, his schooldays trying to get even with James Potter and his friends and most of his adulthood in his role as a double agent for Dumbledore. Now he had nothing and no one.
He knew he deserved it. He balled his fists and dug his nails into his palms. Why did the universe curse him with living when so many had died? It wasn't fair. He felt so tired. Snape clenched his eyes shut as again he could feel the sharp sting of tears.
A tapping at the window broke into his thoughts. He swung and grabbed his wand. What was it? No one knew this place existed. No one could find him. Merlin's beard, most probably still thought he was dead.
He exhaled as he saw a flash of red at the window. He opened the window and Fawkes in his full plumage hopped into the room. He was carrying a small orb. Snape snorted as he recognized the prophecy holder. Fawkes had only ever been loyal to Dumbledore. It could only mean that this had come from him. How was the twinkly eyed old git still haunting him after death?
Fawkes squawked as he dropped the orb on the small wooden table and then flew back out the window. Snape almost felt sad to see him go. He had been a small reminder of a world lost to him.
He looked at the orb and saw letters floating in the blue mist. He cracked the glass on the table and the letters flew up into the air and formed themselves into words:
"After the battle is won, the last of the dark Princes will find what he seeks at the lake of Erised at the midnight hour of Hallows' Eve"
Snape sat down heavily and held his head in his hands. Hallow's Eve was in three days and the prophecy was surely directed at him. But did he believe it? Had he believed Trelawnley's about Voldemort and Potter? Yes at the time. Now he was not so sure.
And to deliver on what he sought? He didn't know what he was seeking. Peace of mind most probably but he didn't deserve it. His past would always haunt him and rightly so.
He wouldn't go but what if there was something to it? What if the prophecy was right? Was he willing to miss out on the chance to find out? Snape growled under his breath. He damned Dumbledore for knowing that he wouldn't be able to resist the mystery.
