Title: Midnight
Pairing: Snape/Lily
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Severus Snape, or anyone else that is any kind of involved in Harry Potter. This is strictly for fun.
Description: Severus Snape is about to become a Death Eater. Lily Evans has an hour to change his mind.
At eleven o'clock, Severus Snape Apparated to the gates outside of the playground near Spinner's End. His nose twitched, searching for that particular scent to which he was so attuned. She wasn't here. Not yet, anyway. If she was even coming. He checked the time and began to doubt that she would appear. She'd always been punctual. He'd never known her to be even thirty seconds late to an appointment, much less two minutes.
Still, she had until midnight. If she came here and all went well…well, it would take some sorting out, but everything would be alright.
If she didn't…
Well, that was that, then. No other choice in the matter. She had fifty-five minutes to change his life.
He stood for five minutes, sat for another two, and then his mind began to wander about the possibility of her really, maybe, truly not showing up.
But then there was a rustle on the ground behind him. At the sound of the shifting wood chips against a hemline he sprang up at attention, straining his eyes into the black for the first glimpse-
And she came out of the darkness, her red hair a deeper shade, almost unidentifiable as red in the night colored air surrounding them, but her eyes were as green as ever and he was not sure whether or not that was his imagination.
At the sight of her, the speech that he had rehearsed so in depth in his head over the past twenty-three hours erased itself from his memory. He was a dumb animal, his mouth opened stupidly, waiting for the words to catch up, but none came.
She began the talking.
"I hope you have a very good reason for wanting me here," she said coolly, striding past him towards the merry-go-round.
Words failed him again. Now that the moment was at hand, he could barely think of how to go through with it.
"Other than just 'the sake of our old friendship', I mean," she pressed, turning to him as he did not speak, "I assume there is some other reason."
"There is," she said, but his voice was cold, too cold. It would never work this way.
"Then out with it so I can go home," she demanded.
He choked on the words that were thick in his throat.
"Are you here to kill me?" she queried.
"NO!" the word exploded from him as if on a breath of air escaping from a punch in the gut.
"Then what other reason is there for you to associate yourself with a Mud-"
"STOP!" he roared, cutting her off before the foul word tumbled from her mouth. He swore for one second, the crickets stopped singing at the sound of it. She froze, her eyes wide, concerned, and very much like the little girl who had once flown off of the swing set behind her.
"What is it?" she asked quietly, after a long pause.
"I wanted…" he trailed off, unable to finish the thought how he would have wished.
"Wanted what?" she prompted him, sounding a little impatient. He looked down at her and noticed that he could not see her hands. She had shoved them into her pockets, out of sight.
"…to see you," he finished, unsatisfied with how he had backed away from the truth.
"Well, here I am," she said, briskly, nodding to him, "Can I leave now?" She turned and again, the word could not be stopped.
"NO!"
She turned back. "Something else then," she asked.
He managed a curt nod. The words would come in time. He hoped.
"What then?" she asked.
He swallowed, his hands shaking as he forced his vocal cords, tongue, and lips to work together.
"Do you remember this place?" he asked quietly.
She looked around. "Of course," she said, rolling her eyes at the silly question, "How could I forget it?"
He nodded. "Do you remember the time you flew off the swing set?"
"The many times, you mean?"
She was being difficult. He really hadn't expected anything less.
"I meant-"
"You meant the time that I met you," she finished for him.
"Yes," he said, "And the time that we made a fort behind the slide? And I made the wood chips come to life?"
"And one danced on my arm for the rest of the afternoon?"
"Yes. And when you got that…Cad…Cadburg bar?"
"Cadbury bar?"
"Yes! You got one for Christmas…"
"-And I shared it with you, because your parents had only given you an old shirt?"
"Yes. Lily, I…"the kind words died in his mouth, unused to being spoken. He bit his lip in frustration.
"What is it, Sev?" she asked, taking a step closer, her voice softer than it had been since she'd arrived.
"Thank you…for sharing your chocolate," he said quietly, avoiding her eyes as he spoke, knowing that those green beacons would see right through him, and not comfortable with the idea.
She did not respond for a moment as she took a step closer, standing in front of him now, looking up into his eyes. "You're-you're welcome," she said, her voice sounding far away and choked, as if she could not believe the words had come out of her mouth.
He looked down at her, his hands trembling at the closeness of her and the heat of her body that he could feel radiating over to him. Her fiery flyaway hair was begging to be placed gently behind her ear, and her deep, deep eyes were looking so far into his own with such an intensity that it hurt him down to his bones.
Her hair was just inches away and his hand twitched upward of its own accord, shaking in the air like a leaf ready to fall. He brushed the red behind her ear and she gasped as his fingers brushed the side of her face. He knew, and he knew she realized that this was the very first time he had ever touched her.
And then his body would not let him stop after one touch. It sprang to life, wrapping an arm around her waist and the other up her back with his fingers tangled into the back of her hair. He guided her gently towards him, and she did not resist. His lips met hers and the outside world stopped as his blood raced and he held her closer. For a moment she lost herself-or, found herself, he would have thought had he been thinking at the time-as she brought her arms to his waist and held him tightly. His hands moved to her face holding her securely against him. Her cheeks were wet against his fingers and palms.
It was only when they broke away that he realized he was crying as well.
He pulled her close, cradling her head to his chest, right against his heart.
"Oh, Lily," he breathed, "Lily, it could be like this. It will be like this. I promise. If you love me…if you love me like I love you-"
Her body wracked with a sob. "Shhh," he whispered, "Shhh, sweet one. It will be ok." He kissed the top of her head and reached for her hand. "We'll be ok," he whispered, bringing her hand up to his mouth to kiss it. It was only when her hand was at eye level that he noticed the diamond ring around her third finger.
He dropped her hand as if it had suddenly become scorching hot. She tried to bury it into her robe again, but the damage had been done. He's seen it.
"You're-?"
She nodded, her body shaking with sobs.
"It's Potter," he stated, and he did not need to see her nod to know that he was right.
"You're going to marry him." Maybe if he said it she would shake her head violently and explain it away as a misunderstanding. She did not move. Ice crept over his insides, coagulating his blood. He felt his bones begin to splinter. The noise of it echoed around his head.
For a long time, neither of them spoke. Severus felt the ice moving up his body slowly, one organ at a time. Before it reached his mouth, he tried to speak, but found that he was back at square one, stumbling over his words.
"Wh-How?-Why?"
"Because I love him," Lily answered.
"No, you don't."
"Yes," she said, tilting his chin up so his eyes could meet hers, "I do."
He stepped backwards, causing her hand to fall. Her expression showed that she was hurt, but he could barely notice. She had made her choice. The thought of it filled him suddenly with a red hot anger.
"I'm sorry," she said.
He turned away sharply. "No," he said quietly.
"Please, Severus." Her voice was desperate.
"No," he said again.
"Can you try? Try to accept it? And him? For-"
He cut her off before she could finish. If she had managed to get out "For me" he knew he would not have been able to resist her, but he also knew he could not just be her friend-just her friend-while she made her life with James Potter.
"No," he said, his voice colder than he had ever heard it, the finality of the statement ringing in his ears.
"Then maybe there is no 'old friendship' for there for be any 'sake of'," she seethed, her voice colder and harder than his own.
He heard her turn away, and he did not know whether to follow. When he finally decided to, he whipped around-to find her completely gone, and whether she had walked or Disapparated, he did not know.
If he could feel anything, he was sure the word for what it would have been was despair. At the moment, however, he was completely numb.
She had made her choice.
He walked over to where she stood, something crunching on the ground where he had just placed his foot. He reached down and found a scrap of paper, his own handwriting lining the page. For the sake of our old friendship, come to the old playground at eleven PM. It must have fallen from her pocket.
He did not feel human as he spoke the time charm and saw that it was eleven fifty-nine, but maybe it was better that way. He gave her a few more seconds to come back, but then with the sound of a faraway clock tower he knew it was midnight. There was no use in waiting anymore.
He Disapparated to the place where Voldemort was waiting, and he prepared to receive his Mark.