AnnabethLuna: I have no shame. I HAVE DESTROYED CANON, regardless of the OC-ness of characters and all that jazz. MUAHAHAHAHA. (This is for you, though you are certainly not obligated to read it. Just have that knowledge.)
Also, don't own any of this, blah, blah, blah.
"Why should I trust you, Severus?"
The storm was swirling around her, tossing her dark auburn hair viciously. Every now and then, a distant lightning strike would illuminate her young face, already aged with worry and pain. Her eyes, however, were as fierce as ever-a vibrant bottle-green. He knelt before her, wandless, trembling.
"You shouldn't," he choked out, head bowed. "Please, Lily..."
"A prophecy," she hissed, but he couldn't tell if she was still skeptical. "Why bother telling me? Why, when you've already chosen your side, and I mine?"
"Because," and now the words were burning in his throat, "because I - I - "
But he swallowed and shuddered, eyes clamped shut, his stringy, black hair whipping about, concealing his face.
"Because you what?"
He jerked his face up, startled by the sudden closeness of her voice. She had knelt in front of him, her features still stern, but she was much more the Lily he remembered from childhood.
"Because I love you."
She stared at him for a while, her expression unreadable. There was no pity in her face, no understanding, no shock, nothing -- and for what seemed a century, there was silence, and his heart stopped.
"If you defect, your Dark Lord will kill you," she said solemnly. He almost couldn't hear her over the roar of the wind. "You will have gained nothing by telling me this. I can offer you nothing in return."
"Just - please - hide, keep yourself - your whole family - safe," he pleaded. "I'm begging you - I'm telling the truth - "
"I know," she cut him off, looking away. "But - Sev - " the renewed use of his nickname caused him to desperately seek her gaze again, "Dumbledore heard the prophecy, too, didn't he? Then why hasn't he told us?"
"It - it could refer to someone else," he admitted, "but he is certain it is your daughter. He chose your daughter - he chose her as his equal."
Her eyebrows furrowed, but all of her seemed to soften.
"Please listen to me, Lily."
"I am," she said finally. "I just...I wish we weren't in this mess."
"The Longbottoms went into hiding," she said, taking her usual spot at the end of the couch. Severus poured her a glass of wine, and then took his space in the lumpy green armchair across from her. "Dumbledore wouldn't say anything directly, but I am fairly certain the reason is for their son."
Severus sighed. "Then I would say Dumbledore is mistaken. That is no reason to come out of hiding."
"I wasn't implying we were, as much as I would like to," she muttered darkly, glaring at a dingy corner. The light in the living room was poor as it was; she didn't understand how he could stand it. "But, I mean...Severus, is it possible that he's telling you the wrong thing because he already suspects you've been betraying him?"
He shook his head slowly. "No. He trusts me."
"Then he is a foolish man," she growled, taking another sip. "Or I am. Either way."
"Perhaps." He raised his glass to her, and she glared back.
"This is madness. I just want this all to be over."
"That reminds me," he said, sitting up slightly, "you're supposed to be gathering information, aren't you?"
"What of it?"
"Lily, you forget so easily, I'm in his Inner Circle." She raised an eyebrow. "I could be your spy."
"Sev! That'd be so dangerous! You know how I am about these things - I'm terrible about lying - what if I accidentally gave you away - ?"
"I have nothing else, Lily," he said coldly, staring into the bottom of his glass. "I chose the wrong side. If this war ends, the best I can hope for is Azkaban. No, I'm serious, Lily," he cut across her as she started to squirm and protest, "I am at your disposal. I'll do anything."
"...Anything?"
"Anything for you."
Lily stared at him, her mouth parted and her eyes wide, sinking back into the couch. "Sev, I can't give you anything in return." Her voice sounded fragile, like seashells.
"I don't want anything in return, I've told you this."
"...It's not fair."
"Life isn't fair, if you haven't noticed." Lily blushed at those words, looking sullenly into her lap. "I'll tell you what you can afford to know, and you will present it to the Order in a believable fashion, understand?"
She nodded glumly, and when she looked up at him, he was startled to find that she had tears collecting in her eyes. She wiped them away forcefully, as if he hadn't had time to notice. "Lily, please..."
"First of all, I want you to promise me something." Her voice had come back stronger, echoing her usual, stubborn-self. "Promise me you'll survive this war and you're not going to Azkaban."
"Lily - "
"Promise me."
He opened and closed his mouth several times, letting out a few incoherent noises, but finally decided protesting was useless. "I promise," he replied heavily. Lily offered him half of a smile.
"And there's another thing, something that, maybe, you might not be able to do much about...but...if James and I don't make it..."
"Don't say that..."
"C-can you make sure that my daughter is safe? Please." The tears were starting to return, and they were beginning to frighten Severus more than he wanted to admit.
"I will do everything I possibly can to ensure your daughter's survival and well-being," he said, raising his right hand as he said so. Lily grinned the rest of the way, satisfied.
Lily looked more flustered than usual; she had dark circles under her eyes, and her left hand was shaking.
"What is it? What's wrong?" he demanded.
"Nothing, it's just - " She cut herself off, trying to steady her breathing. "Frank is dead...Alice barely escaped, and she brought Neville over...we've added more protections, I promise. We have a Secret Keeper now." She tried to smile, but even the spark in her eyes had dulled. "Sev, I haven't told anyone."
"Told anyone what?"
He assumed she hadn't told anyone that she was meeting him; that would be an utterly daft move on her part.
"I haven't told James about the prophecy," she whispered, looking down at her feet. "I wonder, sometimes...should I?"
He froze up in front of her. "...It's not my place to say."
"I don't know what to do. It feels so wrong...wanting it to be Alice's boy...but then, I think, isn't that so cruel? So wrong? I'm such a terrible person!" she cried out, compulsively falling into Severus's arms. "Sometimes I feel like I would do anything to keep Harriet safe, but how can I wish it on my friend, a friend who has just lost her husband?"
Severus patted her awkwardly. He was thankful - and disappointed - when she finally broke away. "Oh, I'm sorry, Sev."
"Don't mind it," he said stiffly. There was a brief pause in which there was only the sound of Lily's sniffing. "You're not a terrible person, you know that."
"It feels like it sometimes."
"You want the best for your child. That is a lot more than many other witches and wizards could say."
They lingered in the kitchen a moment longer. Lily still had not shed her traveling cloak; in fact, she showed no intention of seating herself in the living room.
"Sev," she said carefully, "I might not see you for a while. Alice...well, she's devastated. That, and James has been wondering loudly as to where I've been..." She breathed. "I came because - because I wanted to know something."
"Anything," he said automatically, watching her carefully.
"Did you mean it?" she asked, her voice small, almost afraid. He frowned.
"Mean what?"
"What you said - when I asked you why. The night you told me about...about Harriet."
Her eyes were searching his, but he couldn't tell if it was hope or sorrow that connected with him.
She was nine and fifteen and now twenty-one all at once. She was the most beautiful woman, his kindest friend, and the warmest heart he had ever known. He just wanted to see her smile again-her whole being ignite with the brightness of the sun. She would never be his, that much was certain, and though it killed him, every waking moment-though it destroyed him, it was some sort of sick redemption -
He could never regret her, the best thing in his miserable life -
His purpose, his hope --
"Of course I meant it," he said, trying not to stutter around the words. "Always."
His world had already stopped, but for some reason, it had started moving and stopped again.
The little girl in the crib - he had never met her before, yet he knew precisely who she was - what the mark on her head meant -
The little boy was fussing. She had already started, crying for her mother, seemingly oblivious to the dark young man in front of her.
He felt all feeling leave him. It wasn't really him doing it, he told himself later, when he raised his wand to the little boy's head -
When he marked him instead, the same lightning bolt -
The boy wailed, clutching the new mark on his head. Something twisted, agonized, in his stomach; how could he do this to a child?
How could anyone?
He was a terrible, terrible person - and he heard her voice echoing in his head-but maybe he didn't, though, because he couldn't feel anything at the same time as - as feeling everything --
The girl's mark - the real mark, a voice inside his head growled-wouldn't go away. It was there forever.
So he covered it. He hid it.
He did what, he hoped, Lily would have wanted him to do - if she couldn't do it herself -
Even if it wasn't so right after all -
Even if it meant practically nothing, considering the Dark Lord had vanished -
Because, she had just wanted to protect her daughter, right?
Maybe there was nothing that could be right anymore.
There was a loud POP outside. He hadn't processed it at first, but then it was joined by the rumble of - something -- Muggle-like.
Voices - frightened, pained - familiar -
He remembered the first promise. Glancing at the fussing infants and the destruction around him, he found he was useless. He had to flee.
And so it was, that on Halloween night of 1981, Severus Snape managed to fool the entire Wizarding World for a great number of years -
And all for a woman who could never love him back, not how he had loved her -
For a woman lying dead on her nursery floor -
For the orphaned little girl that sat bawling in her crib, a mop of black hair on her head, and the all-too-familiar green eyes that, it seemed, could never be extinguished -
For love.
For all the uncertain reasons, which, even from the beginning, had never made much sense.