Of Meetings at Midnight
By Maximilien Robespierre
Any sound made by his sudden appearance was drowned out by the rain. The man cursed and stumbled. Pulling out his wand, he conjured a large black umbrella out of thin air and sent it to hover over him. He looked around.
"Of all the … what was Dumbledore thinking?"
"That if we kill each other, it's best done in a place without a lot of muggle witnesses, I'd imagine," a voice said, quiet and smooth behind him.
James Potter spun around, whipping out his wand with a startled exclamation. The figure behind him was backlit by the rising moon, his robes flaring around him, bat like, and his long hair whipping around in the wind. James snorted. Obviously a weakness for a dramatic entrance. "Who…" but the details were tugging at him, demanding his attention. That hair, and the robes billowing around him… Surely he'd seen…? Suddenly everything snapped into place.
"You!"
The man waved his wand, the wind died and calm fell around them. Another wave sent a ball of light flitting up to join James' umbrella. In its ghostly glow he could see the hooked nose and sallow skin of the other man.
"Your eloquence amazes me," sneered Severus Snape.
James was in shock. When Dumbledore, finally giving in to his pleading, had agreed to arrange a meeting with the spy who was protecting Lily's and James' life, James had been prepared for a lot of things. This had not been one of them. It made no sense. It was Snape. Snape. And yet… One thing struggled through the haze of confusion in his mind.
"But you hate me!"
"I see that your endless capacity to state the obvious remains intact. Hard as it may be to believe, not everything, Potter, is about you."
Snape's face was still twisted in disgust. James' mind was reeling. He stared at Snape's pinched, sallow face, blurred by the rain.
"Then why?"
"Why did you come, if not to talk to me?"
"Dumbledore asked me to."
"And since when, exactly," said James bitingly, "have you been so very loyal to Dumbledore?"
Snape was silent, staring out over the dark, wind tossed treetops below them. James sighed in exasperation. The git was as cryptic and unforthcoming as ever. He changed tack and answered Snape's question as honestly as he could.
"You should tell me because I am trying to protect my family, Snape. I would do anything, anything at all, to make sure that they stay safe. I need to know why you are doing this – why you are risking your life for it. I need proof that your intentions are good."
All the fight seemed to go out of Snape at that. His robes hung limp in his bubble of calm, and, for a moment, he seemed much less than the imposing figure who had made his dramatic entrance silhouetted against the moon. For a moment, James thought he saw a flash of sadness in the dark, empty eyes, but then it was gone.
"You can't just trust in my good intentions, obviously." He laughed bitterly, not expecting an answer.
"Trust a man who's hated me since I was eleven to watch my back against the most evil wizard of all time?" muttered James under his breath. "I think not."
Harsh scorn twisted Snape's features again. "Get this through your abnormally thick skull," he snarled: "this is not about you."
"Then why?"
"Why, Potter?" Snape seemed terribly tired, staring past James again, into the windswept night. "Why has it ever – no, always been, for you and me?" He sighed at the incomprehension on James' face. "I risk my life because a world without her would not be worth living in."
Understanding finally began to dawn in James' mind.
"Here's your proof, Potter." Snape raised his wand. "Expecto Patronum!"
They both watched in silence as the beautiful silver doe leaped from Snape's wand and landed lightly on the ground. She turned her head, and James stared for a moment into her wide, pale eyes, filled with all the love and compassion and innocence that Snape had always seemed to lack. For just a fraction of a second, James thought he saw in those eyes a flash of the same overwhelming sadness that he had seen in Snape's own. Then she faded back into the darkness and was gone, and when James looked, he saw that Snape too had turned his back and was walking away into the rain.
A/N: This is my first story, and I really want to know how I did. Please review!
If you liked it, you have no excuse not to review. If you didn't, tell me why not, or you'll only have to wade through more stuff that you don't like. If you want to tell me about purple cats chasing ostriches across the Sahara, or that Rome was founded in 753 BC, or who your favorite dictator is, do that too. Seriously. I like randomness. Review!