Disclaimer: As you may have guessed, I own N-O-T-H-I-N-G. Oh, except Spello-Wool, all my idea. I apologise for double line spacing in places, that's just FF being cruel to me. It keeps deleting parts of my story and not letting me use asterisks and deleting more parts of my story and RARGH!
Snape was tidying up in his dungeon office; Dumbledore would be back shortly from recruiting Slughorn to the post of Potions Master, meaning that Snape had no choice but to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He'd always wanted to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, but he simply found it hard to let go of his old job. He'd been teaching it for so long, nearly fourteen years now since he took it up at Dumbledore's request, to watch over Lily's son.
There Is A Person Living In My Head
She Comes To Visit Every Night In Bed
He sighed, he couldn't forget her, or move on. Not that he wanted to, he'd rather keep this sickening, stomach wrenching agony for the rest of his days than forget her; the feel of her soft hand on his cheek, the sound of her beautiful voice, and the look of utter perfection on her face.
Thinking about his imminent removal from this classroom by Slughorn, made Snape remember his days spent here as a student, under Slughorn's tutelage. He looked across the classroom at the desk where he had sat in class, next to her. A nondescript burn on the desk masking where a young boy had once carved his name, and the name of the girl he loved onto it; or rather where that had been. Snape had long ago carefully, and with painstaking precision carved off the top layer of wood and kept it at the bottom of his desk, wrapped in spello-wool.
I Fight The Demon, But It Just Won't Fall
The Voices In My Dungeon Starting To Call
Deep in reminiscence, he drifted back to a cool day in his second year, when he'd still been very close to Lily Evans. He saw the spectres of his memory drift through the door of the dungeon, laughing silently, and sit down at their desks. He saw a small, greasy looking boy scribbling furiously in his potions book, the girl sitting next to him laughing at his determination to improve on the textbook's instructions.
"Oh Sev'. You are funny sometimes." Snape heard echo around the classroom, or possibly just his own head. Either way it made him almost jump out of his skin.
The Spiders Dancing On The Wall
Suicide Of Love We Could Have Had It All
Searching for a way to clear his head, he glanced around the classroom; but he'd already tidied everything away that he was moving to his new office. In desperation he attacked the spiders' webs in the corners of the room, webs that had been there almost as long as he had, tearing them down with vicious sweeps of his wand. Briefly, before it disappeared in flames, he saw a web with two spiders on it.
'Up in smoke.' He thought to himself, sarcastically. 'Ironically suitable.' His assault on the spiders leaving nothing at all left in the room except the desks and cauldron plinths, he grabbed at his bag and fled the room. Childish giggles still ringing in his ears as he speeded down the corridor past Filch, who was amazed that anything had made Snape move that fast.
And It Is You
You Are The Ghost Behind My Eyes
I Can't See Through You
He waved away a phantom of Lily, standing in the corridor, laughing at some joke or other he couldn't remember. Most likely this was a phantom of the time after, he hadn't been in the habit of telling jokes much. He hurried on again, just wanting peace inside his own head.
You Are The Ghost Behind My Eyes
The Ghost That Tells Me Lies
He reached his new office and slammed the door, leaning against it as if to keep the entire of the rest of the world out. Out, out. Out of his head is where he needed her right now. He needed to be able to think clearly this coming year, if Lily P- Evans kept flitting in and out of his head, then he could hardly stop Voldemort from being able to do the same; and the consequences of that would be dire.
The Princess Of the Dark Has Made My Mind Home
My Haunted Head And Her Won't Leave Me Alone
He sat down at his new desk, and pulled his bag onto it. Pulling it open he started placing quills and parchment and other wizarding stationary into their places, and then he reached the bottom of his bag, where a thin line that could easily have passed for a seam under any but the most inquisitive eyes concealed a hidden compartment.
"Amorsemper." He whispered quietly, pointing his wand at it. It peeled back slowly, revealing a small space with several flat pockets and a clutter of items. He gingerly pulled out a small bundle of spello-wool and unwrapped it.
She Dances On My Heart With Fire In My Soul
I Hate That Feeling When I'm Losing Control
Out of the bundle he pulled the sliver of wood from the potions desk, still finely polished. A small bundle of crumpled paper, every note they'd ever passed each other that he'd been able to collect. He took out a few other odds and ends with stories of their own; and finally a photograph, taken at a Christmas Feast. The house tables had been pushed back against the walls, and a dance floor had been set up with a swish of Dumbledore's wand. In the middle of the photograph, a boy in his mid-teens was twirling a girl of similar age through a dance, in the animated photograph they were both smiling happily. Two small ovals had been worn out of each side of the photograph, exactly in the places where a person would place their thumbs, every time they held it in their hands.
The Spiders Dancing On The Wall
Suicide Of Love We Could Have Had It All
Looking up, he saw a couple of spiders' webs in this office too. Snatching his wand he brandished it at them with a bestial snarl. Memories they evoked too painful for comprehension, he hexed them so vigorously he scorched the wall behind them. But he didn't care.
And It Is You
You Are The Ghost Behind My Eyes
He sunk back in his chair and picked up the photograph, it didn't even make his mouth twitch in something approaching a smile to see a boy in the background with a mess of black hair holding two drinks looking thoroughly annoyed at the dancers.
He wrapped the photograph back up in spello-wool, and packed it and the other artefacts of better days into the bottom drawer of his new desk. "Diligio Sectum." He uttered, and the wood cracked and warped to form a covering over them, concealing his treasures from prying eyes and heading off to his rooms.
I Wish To God That I Could Sleep Again
Oh Peace Again
He collapsed onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He considered a sleeping potion, but then he wouldn't see her. Wouldn't hold her in his mind, hold her close and whisper in her ear. Tell her how sorry he was.
And Wake Up From This Nightmare Free Again
Free Again, Oh Me Again
He rolled over. He tossed and turned, wracked with eternal guilt at his crimes.
There Is A Woman Living In My Head
She Comes To Visit Every Night In Bed
Eventually he slept. Anyone foolhardy enough to sneak into his private quarters at night would hear sobs, tears flowing in earnest, tears begging for forgiveness.
The Spiders Dancing On The Wall
Suicide Of Love We Could Have Had It All
As Snape lay dying in the Shrieking Shack nearly two years later, looking up into those eyes with his life draining away. The face they were set in seemed to merge into the features of a young woman, but the eyes, the eyes remained exactly the same.
"You. Are. Forgiven." He heard, the whisper echoing around his mind as darkness crept into the edges of his vision. His face contorted into one, final, smile…
And It Is You
You Are The Ghost Behind My Eyes
You, You Are The Ghost Behind My Eyes
You, You Are The Ghost Behind My Eyes
Behind My Eyes
The Ghost Behind My Eyes
The Ghost Behind My Eyes
The Ghost Behind My Eyes