A/N: For the Prompt Exchange Challenge.
I don't usually ship Severus/Lily because I'm in love with James/Lily but I read this prompt and I was struck with some angsty inspiration so here you go!
"Once you have loved someone this much you doubt it could fade, despite how much you'd like it to."—'Fade Together' by Franz Ferdinand
[Sent by Jem Kallop]
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter…or any money…in case you were thinking of suing me.
Fading Love
By Ink Stained Quill
The first time you saw her, you were both nine years old, she had been alone rocking back and forth on the playground swings and staring intently at her hand. After a few moments she grinned and from your spot high up in the trees, you could see a flower in her hand opening and closing its petals. You had almost called down to her, but then a shrill voice called "Lily, Mummy says you're to come home now!" and the red head had sprung up, tossing the flower down guiltily and running away.
"Lily," you rolled the name around experimentally. So that was her name.
For the rest of that summer, you stayed up in the trees. You weren't keen on staying around your home for very long, not with your father around, and then there was Lily. She didn't even know you existed, but you watched her, hoping against hope that one day she would look up and give you that bright smile you so coveted, and she would say, "Hello."
You had even rehearsed a speech. Something that went like, "I am Severus Snape and you Lily, are a witch." You were quite sure she would be very impressed.
She came with her sister, an unpleasant and snooty girl who was about two years older than Lily. Lily flung herself off the swing arcing high into the air and landing lightly several feet away. Her sister, 'Tuney' Lily called her, berated her all the while edging cautiously toward Lily as though afraid she may blow up. Lily held out a hand and Tuney shrieked in horror at the moving flower, looking enviously at her sister as she threw it away.
"How do you do it?" she asked longingly. You burst out of the bushes you had been hiding in.
"It's obvious isn't it?" you asked. Tuney shrieked again and ran back to the swings, but Lily looked at you curiously. You flushed darkly at her gaze. Oh, she saw me!
"What obvious?" she asked.
You took a deep breath and whispered impressively. "I know what you are."
"What do you mean?"
"You're…you're a witch." There.
But instead of looking at you in wonder, she frowned, insulted. "That's not a very nice thing to say." She marched off to her sister, leaving you to chase after her.
You met again in the playground under the trees several times over the next two years. Lily would listen wide-eyed and awed as you regaled her with tales of the wizarding world. You talked of Hogwarts and your letters, puffing out your chest with all the superiority of an eleven-year old, while she gazed at you admiringly.
"Will is really come by owl?" Lily asked.
"Normally," you answered, "but you're Muggle-born, so someone from the school will have to come and explain to your parents."
"Does it make a difference, being Muggle-born?" she asked worriedly.
You stiffened. The base of the wizarding world was currently lying upon the struggle for Wizarding supremacy. Eileen had taught her son that being a wizard was something to be proud of, that Muggles aren't worth anything, and with a father like Tobias, who were you to argue?
And then there was Lily, sweet innocent Lily, lovely Lily. Lovely? Yes, you loved her. Loved her smile, her laugh, her hugs. She was a Muggle-born, someone your mother would certainly never approve of. No, Lily was different. Lily wasn't a normal Mudblood.
So you swallowed and hid your thoughts under this lie. "No," you said finally. "It doesn't make any difference."
Lily gave him a relieved smile. "Good."
You spoke a while longer, and you savored every single time Lily said your name – until you were rudely interrupted by a blushing Petunia. Lily sprang up happily, but you scowled.
"Who's spying now?" you accused.
She flushed even more angrily. "What's that you're wearing? Your mum's blouse."
You saw red. You wanted nothing more than to hurt this girl who kept taunting you. Suddenly a branch snapped above Petunia's head and hit her on the shoulder. She staggered away, bursting into tears.
"Tuney!" Lily cried, before turning angrily on you. "Did you do that?"
"No," But you had hesitated one moment too long.
"You did!" Lily sounded horrified. "You hurt her!"
"No! No I didn't!" Lily glared at you then turned away, running after her sister.
You stared after her, your chest tightening with sadness and hurt and confusion. Why don't you care if she hurts me?
You boarded the Hogwarts Express and Lily was curled up sobbing in an empty train compartment. You looked at her and felt a surge of anger toward her sister. Petunia was the only one who could make your Lily cry like the world was ending. You sat beside her, wanting to wrap her in a hug, but too scared she might turn away.
"What's wrong?" you asked though you knew the answer.
"T-Tuney h-hates me," Lily choked out through her sobs.
"So what?" you asked. Lily was so much better than her sister.
"So she's my sister!"
"She's only a –" Muggle. You caught yourself. The last thing you wanted was to antagonize her. "But we're going to Hogwarts!" you said brightly, trying to cheer her up. She smiled weakly, nodding.
Hogwarts was filled with excitement and adventure. Although Lily and you were sorted into separate houses your friendship never died. Nearly every day you lounged out on the shore of the lake and discussed everything from classes to friends to your futures as you worked on you homework. You took great pleasure in vilifying James Potter and Sirius Black with Lily, especially since Potter had taken a great interest in the fiery redhead. He consistently asked her out much to Lily's (and your) displeasure. Much to your relief, she turned him down every time.
You could see the hurt in Potter's eyes every time she walked away, gazing at Lily with a confused and frustrated expression. You got a vindictive pleasure out of seeing the King of Hogwarts denied the one thing he wanted most.
Then the war came. Well, it was always there, a pervading fear the penetrated even the haven of Hogwarts, but it began to seep into your friendship creating splits and cracks that never really healed.
Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix and Narcissa Black, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange, Evan Rosier, Crispin Avery, John Mulciber – forces to be reckoned with in Hogwarts. It was clear that none of them were far from having the Dark Mark branded on their forearm, and few would be surprised if they had one already. You were entranced. You listened with an almost religious fervor along with most of you house as Lucius spoke in the common room on the wonders of the Dark Lord's empire.
The Dark Arts called to you with a loving tone, caressing every part of your mind in a way you had never thought could happen. You found so much potential for your own powers to grow, to be come something more. As your time in Hogwarts continued, the Dark Lord started to show interest in this promising student, and you knew that it would not be long until you were high up in the Death Eater ranks.
You tried to impress Lily, like you had been trying for the past seven years, but she just looked at you oddly like she was uncomfortable and changed the subject to something less controversial; so you fell back into the normal topics of classes, teachers, Potter and his gang.
You were lying by the shore of the Great Lake in the shade of an enormous tree. She laughed at something you said, and your heart swelled to see her so happy. You reached out and brushed a strand of hair back from her face and she tensed, the laugh dying in her throat. She stared at you wide-eyed before looking back up at the sky in silence. You were quiet for a few minutes before you broke the awkward silence. Neither of you mentioned it again.
A few nights later you were walking with Mulciber and Avery. Mulciber spotted Mary Macdonald slowly making her way up to the Gryffindor common room, her nose buried in a book.
"Oi! Mudblood!" Mulciber called. Mary's head snapped up, her hand whipping her wand out, but Avery casually disarmed her before it was ever out of her pocket.
"Why so jumpy Macdonald?" Avery asked, leering. "We just want to play." The girl's terrified eyes jumped from Avery to Mulciber and finally landed on you. They were filled with a silent plea.
You're Lily's friend. Help me, please!
You looked away, shrugging nonchalantly. Mulciber and Avery turned their wands on the Gryffindor who was scrambling for her own wand. Her screams echoed down the hallway for a few minutes and then the three Slytherins ran before a teacher came, leaving the girl sobbing on the floor.
The next morning, you went to find Lily to ask her to Hogsmeade, but you were coolly informed that Lily was sitting with Mary in the hospital wing. You caught her later that day but she didn't look you in the eye as she told you that she couldn't go to Hogsmeade because she had lot of homework to catch up on.
"You've already finished it all," you said bluntly. She stared at her feet. "Can't go with me, or won't go with me?"
"I can't, Sev," Lily said, finally looking up at you. "Not if you continue like this." She walked out toward the courtyard.
"I thought we were supposed to be friends!" you said furiously. You felt betrayed. "Best friends."
"We are Sev, but I don't like some of the people you're hanging around with. I'm sorry," she said, not really sounding sorry at all. In fact, she seemed relieved to finally be saying this. "I detest Avery and Mulciber. Mulciber! What do you see in him, Sev? He's creepy!" Her face grew dark. "D'you know what he tried to do to Mary Macdonald the other day?"
Yes, you knew. You had been there after all, though you would never tell Lily that. "That was nothing," you replied uncomfortably. "It was just a laugh."
Lily stopped and looked at you, as though seeing you for the first time. There was an odd look on her face, one you had never seen before. She was studying you closely. "That was Dark Magic." Her tone was flat. "If you think that's funny –"
She was just a stupid Mudblood. Why does it matter? you almost say. Lily's eyes widen momentarily as though reading your thoughts.
You shivered in spite of yourself. She knows!
Your friendship became increasingly strained. Lily defended you to all of her friends, but even she seemed to doubt you. You delved further into the Dark Arts, occasionally creating a spell and scribbling it in the margins of your textbooks or notes. You had made the mistake of demonstrating one to Lily. You had been so sure she would be so awestruck by the genius behind it. Instead she had looked at you with a hint of fear and in a choked sort of voice she asked you:
"So would you be using this on Muggles and Muggle-borns?"
"If that's what my master requires". You had almost replied but you caught yourself and simply shook your head. She didn't look reassured.
Then O. came upon you and you were thankful for them because it left little time for Lily to become more suspicious of your activities. The day you finished, you headed out to the lake to meet up with the red head. Your nose was buried in your books.
"Alright Snivellus?" a scathing voice called and you whipped his wand out, but James Potter disarmed you, much to Black's amusement. Potter hexed you again, and then you were hoisted into the air by your ankle. You swore heavily which only resulted in you being hexed once more.
A clear voice cut in sharply. Lily's voice.
"Leave him alone!" She stalked toward Potter, eyes flashing with fury, hands clenched with rage on your behalf.
Potter immediately assumed a calm cool face, the one that made girls swoon and grinned at Lily. "Alright Evans?" You wanted to rip his head off right there.
She ignored him. "Let him down."
"Go out with me," he said immediately. "Go out with me and I'll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again."
You saw red. How could Potter have the nerve to hex him only to try to get Lily? You struggled toward your wand, which lay a little ways away.
"I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the Giant Squid."
You raised your wand to Potter's face. Sectumsempra. It was a new invention of his, very painful and very effective. A deep gash appeared on Potter's cheek and blood spattered his robes. Lily met your eyes and you could see the horror and disgust in her eyes.
Potter whirled around and hoisted you in the air again, pulling your pants down. Lily's lips twitched, but she maintained the angry expression, although you knew she wasn't as angry with Potter as she had been before you attacked him. The very thought sent a bolt of anger through you.
"Let him down," she repeated through clenched teeth. Potter shrugged and dropped you, but now Black cursed you. Lily whipped out her own wand and pointed it threateningly at the duo.
James sighed and let you down. "You're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus –"
There was a moment of insanity. You could feel everyone's eyes on you, watching, waiting as though they knew what would happen before you spat the words out viciously.
"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her."
There was a silent ripple of shock that went through the watching crowd, but all you could feel was your world crashing around you and for the first time, you wished James Potter would hex you into oblivion.
You dragged your eyes up to meet Lily's, bracing yourself for the hatred and loathing that you rightly deserved. You were completely unprepared for what you found – loss, horror, a deep overwhelming sadness, hurt, betrayal – no anger, no temper, not even any hatred. A look of guilt and self-loathing swept over her face briefly before she coolly replied:
"Fine, I won't bother in the future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus."
You're not sure what happened after that, and to be honest, you don't much care. All you know is that the love of your life is walking away and you're not doing anything to stop her.
You waited until everyone had gone and then snuck up to the Gryffindor dorms. Mary Macdonald was stepping in and you grabbed her arm. She flinched violently, staring at you with wide terrified eyes.
"Get Lily, please," you beg, but she stands there frozen. "I'll sleep out here other wise." You shove her to the door and she stumbles in. You wait, and wait, and wait. Finally she steps out. Her eyes are just the littlest bit puffy and the rims are ever so slightly red. She's been crying, and it's been hard judging by how much she must have tried to cover it – and it's entirely your fault.
"I'm sorry," you whisper.
"I'm not interested."
"I'm sorry!"
"Save your breath." Her eyes and voice are hard. "I only came back because Mary told me you threatened to sleep out here."
"I would have done. I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just –"
"Slipped out?" She raised an eyebrow.
"It's too late. I've made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends - you see, you don't even deny it! You don't even deny that's what you're all aiming to be! You can't wait to join You-Know-Who, can you? I can't pretend anymore. You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine."
"No, listen," you're begging her. It couldn't end like this. "I didn't mean –"
"To call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?"
Because I love you! You want to scream, but you've lost your chance. She seems to read your silence as acceptance and her face wants to crumple but she holds firm, nods and then steps back through the portrait hole.
The rest of the year is a mix of hell and heaven. Lily refuses to talk to you, but you hold some hope that she might change her mind. That hope becomes dimmer and dimmer and the final straw is at the end of Sixth year – when you turn the corner and come upon James Potter pushing your Lily up against the wall and your Lily's hands buried in his hair, both of them oblivious to your presence. You make a choking sort of noise and they break apart. Potter's arms wrap protectively around her waist and she leans back against him. You stare at her for a minute, but she offers no explanation.
You turn away and run, fleeing from what you know is true – Lily Evans will never be yours. And in that moment, you hate her. She betrayed you, left you. You want nothing more to do with her. If it's Potter she wants, then she's welcome to him. I don't care anymore.
After that, it was easy. You simply didn't think about her. You graduated Hogwarts, became one of the Dark Lord's most trusted, his most valuable spy. The war was savage and brutal. Both sides took considerable losses, but the might of the Dark Lord was invariably greater. Dumbledore and the Ministry crumbled under the continuous onslaught.
It's not until you heard a certain prophecy about the Dark Lord and his supposed destroyer.
"A child born at the end of July?" the silky voice said. "Then the Potters or the Longbottoms."
The Potters. It stirs a vague memory in your mind, a memory of an invitation to a – a wedding? – of James Potter and Lily Evans.
The gut-wrenching horror sank in. Of what this meant. Lily Evans would die, and you still loved her. You begged for her life to be saved, but the Dark Lord laughed in your face.
There were better women, he said. Purer women.
And you hated him. Hated Voldemort. No woman would ever be – could ever be – purer than Lily Evans.
So you went to Albus Dumbledore, promised to do whatever he wanted, if he protected Lily.
She died. You were certain of it the moment the mark burned as though liquid fire was pouring through your veins, and you weren't sure if you were screaming from the pain or from the knowledge that everything had come to naught.
You walked into her house, stepped over Potter's cold body. Honestly, you couldn't care less about him, except perhaps sorrow for the pain his death must have caused Lily in the last few moments. You went upstairs to the ruined nursery and your knees buckled beneath you. There she lay, in front of the cot, her dark red hair in a tangle and her arms outstretched. Crawling to her, you pulled her into your arms and stroked her face, the tears falling hard and fast. Her eyes were still open, her face set in a frozen mask of terror and fear. I'm so sorry – so so sorry! You pressed a kiss to her cold forehead and left the house.
Forty-seven. That's how many random objects you broke in Dumbledore's office, all while the old headmaster surveyed you sadly over the rims of his half-moon glasses, before collapsing into a chair.
"You promised," you accused, furious that the Albus seemed so calm. Had you looked up, you might have seen the storm of fury and sadness that rages in the blue eyes.
"Her boy survives," Albus says, a seeming non sequitur. You shrugged, not knowing how this could possibly be relevant, not that you cared. "He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and color of Lily Evans' eyes, I am sure."
His words call up memories – happy eyes, sad eyes, eyes full of horror, fear and worst of all, betrayal and accusation.
"DON'T! Gone … dead."
"Is this remorse, Severus?"
"I wish…I wish I were dead…"
"And what use would that be to anyone?" said Dumbledore coldly. "If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear."
"What - what do you mean?"
"You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily's son."
Protect the brat? She had died for the child, and as far as you were concerned, there was no greater crime than the theft of Lily's life.
"He does not need protection. The Dark Lord has gone - "
"The Dark Lord will return, and Harry Potter will be in terrible danger when he does."
There was a long pause. You thought of Lily, of the first person to smile at you just because, of the first friend you had ever had, of the first and only love you would ever have, of the person he had disappointed the most. Remorse and regret had come to nothing when she lived. You owed it to her to make sure that her sacrifice would not go in vain.
At last you said, "Very well. Very well. But never - never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear…especially Potter's son…I want your word!"
You are sitting at the staff table, talking to a twitchy Professor Quirrell. Something is off about him, and you don't know what.
I'd better inform Dumbledore. Of course, the old man probably already knows.
The doors swung open and the hall fell quiet as the new first years marched in. You clap absently whenever the hat shouts 'Slytherin', not really paying attention. This year's batch would probably be another bunch of failures anyway.
"Potter, Harry." Your head snaps around as a small skinny boy with horribly familiar hair swaggers up to the stool. Just like his father. You're already disgusted, yet insanely curious. His eyes. You want to see his eyes.
They all sit down and you look for the boy, without trying to look like you're actually searching. He meets your eyes and immediately you look away. I can't do this.
The first year Gryffindors come in for their first Potions class. You notice Potter's spawn instantly. The ill-mannered brat. You start to ask him questions that the voice in your head is actively telling you he can't possibly answer. The boy's eyes fill with anger at the injustice and a subtle hurt that someone could be so mean to a child they barely knew.
You stop looking at him because you've seen that exact look before in a girl's face, a girl with dark red hair and the boy's green eyes. You almost want to apologize but the boy's head is bent down and now he looks like James Potter. Severus Snape, apologize to James Potter – not bloody likely.
You hold your grudge for years, but you never fail to protect the boy. You made a promise. When the headmaster finally reveals the truth behind Harry's survival, you feel betrayed and sick.
You've lied to Lily. You've lied to her in the worst way possible because you can't keep her son alive and you hope that wherever she is, she can forgive you because you tried.
"Have you come to care for the boy after all, Severus?" The headmaster asks you.
"For him?" you shout angrily. "Expecto Patronum." A silver doe bursts from your wand and he watches is soar through the open window.
"After all this time?" he asks sadly.
"Always," you reply, and it's true. Once you have loved someone this much, it will never fade, no matter how much you want it to.
So when you finally die, it is with a clear conscience and a peaceful sigh because the last thing you see is Lily Evans' eyes.
Fin
I started writing this as an experiment because I've never written in second person before. It's kinda fun