Disclaimer: I do not own the original canon nor am I making any profit from writing this piece. All works are accredited to their original authors, performers, and producers while this piece is mine. No copyright infringement is intended. I acknowledge that all views and opinions expressed herein are merely my interpretations of the characters and situations found within the original canon and may not reflect the views and opinions of the original author(s), producer(s), and/or other people.
Warnings: This story may contain material that is not suitable for all audiences and may offend some readers.
Author's Note: I've been changing how things are organized on this account. This story was previously posted as part of a chaptered story entitled Shades of the Past despite it being complete in itself. I am posting it now as it should be, with a cover marking its series.
-= LP =-
Remember Everything
-= LP =-
"It all went by so fast;
I still can't change the past
I always will remember everything
If we could start again,
Would that have changed the end?
We remember everything, everything."
– Five Finger Death Punch, Remember Everything
-= LP =-
The boy covered his head with his hands as his body curled into a tight ball. He squeezed his scrawny form as far into the corner between the divan and the wall as he could. The stance was an oft-adopted position. His father had a tendency to get angry whenever he drank and ever since his factory demoted him from a manager to a regular worker, he drank even more-like a fish, Severus' mother said. Thus the small boy found himself in his hiding spot often praying to a deity that his mother said didn't exist but his father insisted upon that he would disappear.
Severus snuck a peek over his knees at the couple arguing just as the ringing sound of flesh striking flesh pealed through the room. His coal-black eyes went wide as he watched his father step towards his mother who was backing away. Tobias' desperate apologies were matched by the contrite expression upon his handsome face. It only took a few moments for Eileen to melt once more and fall into her husband's arms. Severus waited a few minutes before uncurling and edging out of his sanctuary.
This moment was over and Severus knew that the peace would only be temporary. Tomorrow would bring a new row and find him back in his little corner. That was what life was here in this house.
-= LP =-
She was an angel. Of that Severus was convinced. He had even first noticed her in the little church that his father dragged him to every Sunday. Her name was Lily-as in the flower of Mary, Queen of the Angels. To Severus' young mind, the symbolism was too much to be ignored. She had to be an angel in mortal form. He watched, enraptured, as she flew off the swing. To fly without wings or broomstick! Oh, Glorious One! The possibilities!
But what was this? The homely one-her sister, he remembered through his shock and growing anger-was scolding his angel for displaying her wonderful gift as if it were something to be shamed for. Severus burst from the bush and rushed to Lily's defense. The words were tumbling from his mouth faster than his mind could follow-all the realizations that he had come to from his lurking and following.
She smiled at him and Severus knew peace. Perhaps this wonderful little witch was sent to save him and show him what he was doing wrong that was causing his father to be so angry with him. This moment was already slipping away from him, but he refused to allow her to do so as well.
-= LP =-
He stood silent as they lowered the coffin into the ground. Rain trickled down his face obscuring the fact that his eyes held no tears. He was too numb for them. He knew that he should feel more pain-more anger-but he was too far beyond that at the moment. It was all happening too fast, too fast to follow and much too fast to adapt. The eternal question of why? lingered on the edge of his sleep-deprived mind, but he knew from long experience that the question would never be answered.
What had even set off his father that night? It could have been anything. His mother and he had often bore the brunt of the man's raging. But this time…this time his mother had not gotten back up after being shoved to the ground. The blood had continued to spread like a puddle of spilt potion, even after the witch had stopped breathing.
A slim hand slipped into his, startling him from his thoughts. His gaze snapped from the dark hole to meet concerned green eyes. He had a morbid thought that those eyes were the exact color of the curse that Rodolphus had taught him right before the end of term. Lily's eyes shone with unshed tears as if she felt the pain that he was too overwhelmed to at the moment. Her hand squeezed, belying a strength that Severus was always shocked to be reminded that she had.
The moment left a gap inside him, recusing him from everything of normal life. It yawned like a cavern before him and he was terrified of falling into the abyss. A tiny, satisfied part of him whispered that it was already too late for him. The part that was the boy sitting next to his father on the church pew trembled in agreement. Then Lily began to pull him away from the open grave and back to life.
-= LP =-
He was tired and frustrated, humiliated and angry-so angry. Dangling upside down in the air, he was impotent. It brought back memories of all those times with his father and the rage spread to color his whole vision. He couldn't strike out at Potter as his wand had fallen from his grasp. Then he heard her, his avenging angel. It struck like a knife, Potter's mocking words concerning Lily.
The words slipped out with all the humiliated rage that filled his thin frame at the moment. Instantly, he knew he had gone too far, too far to be forgiven. He watched as her eyes widened briefly before narrowing dangerously. Severus closed his eyes in resignation. He could beg (and he knew he would), but his rash behavior had just cost him his childhood friend, and quite possibly his summer home as well. Like noting the absence of a flame, he knew without looking when she had left him to Potter's nonexistent mercy.
Anything that Potter did to him now would forever pale in comparison to what Severus had done to himself in a moment of thoughtlessness.
-= LP =-
Severus raged.
With one grand gesture, he swept everything off his desk. The pens and books clattered on the wood flooring of his study while quills and parchment fluttered more innocently. He stood still for a moment before he stalked to the sideboard and poured himself a brandy. He took one burning sip before he turned sharply on his heel and threw the snifter into the fire, causing the flames to change interesting colors as they drank the alcohol that he couldn't stomach.
She was gone.
Like a marionette with its strings cut, Severus fell to his knees. A scream of grief ripped itself free from his throat and disturbed the silence of the night. His fists beat the ground, a sharp spiccato that matched the wounds upon his soul. The pain overwhelmed him and he cried out once more. Tears poured forth like rain to his inner storm of emotion. Even knowing that it was coming had done nothing to dull the edge.
She was gone.
Elsewhere, people were celebration the fall of the Dark Lord. They laughed and raised their glasses to the child, the great Harry Potter who was already being called the Boy-Who-Lived. How dare they forget the boy's mother, the vivacious redhead who sacrificed her life so that the spawn of that horrible Potter could live? Why did the boy live when she did not? What right did he have to life over that of Lily, the beautiful angel who flew without wings or broom?
But in that moment, Severus lay broken upon the floor and vowed that he would hate the boy, no matter what, and hold him responsible for killing Lily. It was just as binding a promise as the one which Lily had forced from him barely a two months previously.