Title: Once Upon a Time, in Winter
Rating: PG
Characters: Severus Snape, Lily Evans, James Potter
Pairings: unrequited Lily/Severus with Lily/James
Summary: He had to see her, just once more. A brief SS/LE ficlet in honour of Valentine's Day.
Setting: Godric's Hollow, approximately one year post-Hogwarts, Marauder's Era.
She had forgotten him, but he would never forget her. It had been a year, but he had to see her, just once more. Maybe then, things would finally go back to being right.
"James, what are you --" Lily started to say, but then fell silent, her green eyes adjusting to the darkness enough to see that the bedroom was empty. For a moment, she hugged the bed-sheet to her chin, holding it in a tight grip, her cheeks blooming red with sudden modesty, but the fear only lasted a few seconds. It had only been the wind; certainly she had not just heard footsteps. No one had been moving through the house where only she slept. James was still off on Order business, as he had been assigned, and no one had been there at all.
For years - the most precious years Severus had ever experienced, years he cherished in spite of the taint of darker memories, in spite of the inevitable drifting apart - they had been close. Best friends, even. Every night, he had fallen asleep to dreams of her, and every morning he had hurried down the stone hallways to breakfast, eager to catch sight of her red hair.
She couldn't sleep. The bed felt too big without him, and the bedroom was cold in his absence. With a sigh, Lily glanced at the clock; electric, a concession. Despite their blessings, her parents were still discomfited by the constant use of magic James took for granted, so she kept some electronic devices around the house, just to put them at ease when they visited. The numbers glowed in the darkness; it was way too early to wake up. But still, there would be no rest for her, not yet. Lily reached for her peach bathrobe and wrapped it around her shoulders, trying to stop herself from trembling. It wasn't so terribly cold, despite February raging outdoors. The windows were lined with frost, but the fireplace was lit with a merry golden glow. Heaving another sigh, Lily slid her feet into slippers, wondering if a cup of tea would help.
It had all gone wrong. His love for her hadn't saved him. If anything, it had made him more vulnerable. He had spent whole years drowning in insecurity, burning with jealousy anytime Lily so much as talked to another boy, even though she had patiently explained time and again that she had no interest in any of them. No matter what, he had never been assured by her words of comfort. Instead of reaching out, he had turned inward, letting the anger and hatred of his house inflict its damage upon him. In the end, he'd felt nothing: no love, no hope, no sorrow, no pain. Everything within him had been destroyed, purified by Voldemort's fire, leaving only the dull roar of greed for power behind where once his heart had rested.
There were spots all over the floor. No, not spots; flower petals. Shimmering faintly pink, they marked a trail down the hallway that led past the spare bedroom and the darkened kitchen. Bewildered, Lily knelt and picked one up. It was soft and waxy between her fingertips, and undeniably real. The scent of roses had filled the air, and she knew it was not a dream.
He had been a fool, a blind, greedy fool. He had thrown away the best thing in his life, and for what? A life of servitude to a madman, and false friendships with the sort of people he despised. How had he ever been seduced by Lucius Malfoy's slick charm? The man was a snake, corrupt to his core. He had been tricked, lured into a dangerous game by Voldemort's promises, but what he had lost was worth far more than he could ever gain, even at the height of the Death Eaters strength. He had to fix it, he had to repair the damage he had done.
"James," Lily called out, expecting her husband to spring out at her from some hidden niche. It was just like him too, the consummate prankster; had she really believed he had outgrown that childish phase? After all the havoc he had wreaked at Hogwarts, it was plain that jokes were a part of his personality. "James?" she said again, a little louder as she waited for him to leap out at her, bubbling with laughter. Gathering up a handful of rose petals, she took another step forward.
Hearing her voice again after so long gave him goose-bumps, and he had to suppress a shiver. It was hard to believe he had once taken her friendship for granted. Everything about her seemed so fragile now, so delicate, as if she were merely a soap bubble that could pop any minute. He almost replied, but took a step backwards instead, retreating into the shadows, his courage failing him.
There was no answer, and Lily licked her bottom lip, curiosity rising. It wasn't like James to delay the satisfaction of his game, but there was no other explanation for the petals that lay across the floor in droves. Cautiously, she crept forward.
There had never been anyone else. Lily had been his destiny, his one and only, and even though there had been girls for the taking once he had moved up the ranks of Voldemort's loyalists, he had never laid a finger on another female. Every ounce of love and affection he felt was directed at Lily alone, and there simply was no further capacity for feeling. He had hoped, once, that she felt the same for him, but he had to admit, she had never made him any promises. Perhaps she had not even known of his real feelings, for he had masked them quite well, hiding under the banal disguise of careless friendship. Well, he promised himself, someday she will know.
Not Remus, Lily mused as she moved down the hall, randomly opening doors to see if someone was hiding from her. They'd had their moment in fourth year, but they had both acknowledged how awkward the situation had left them, and there had never been anything beyond friendship between them after that point. Not Sirius. He might give her a trinket to celebrate the holiday, but he would never go through the trouble of being romantic for her. It wasn't his nature, and besides, the hallway did not smell of wet dog, the fragrance Sirius's skin perpetually radiated. Peter? Of course not. He was far too shy, and he never came to the house anymore anyway. "But then," Lily asked out loud as if expecting the house to answer, "who?"
He had known from the moment that he'd laid eyes on the florist that it was time to see her again. The holiday was a convenient excuse, but it had been the roses themselves that had spoken to him. Their hue was the same color as Lily's skin when she blushed, and touching them felt the same as touching her. Odd, how quickly the idea had come to him, but he had gotten used to relying on his instinct, and it had never failed him.
It was time to abandon all pretense. Touching the pocket of her robe to make sure her wand was still in place, Lily took a deep breath. "Hello?" she called out, her hands shaking slightly. "Who's there?"
She was so close it made him ache with a desire to touch her. The distance between them was minimal; if he didn't mind giving her a heart attack from the shock of it, he could reach out and take her hand. Pride flared in his chest; even on guard, she did not detect him. If Voldemort had taught him anything, it was how to spy, and Severus had always been a quick study.
There was a light on in the room beyond the kitchen, and Lily felt herself go limp with relief as she saw it, even though she had not been aware of any fear even moments ago. She let the rose petals fall from her hand and drift onto the floor in a pile, because there on the table was a tremendous bouquet, dozens upon dozens of every flower she could imagine, an entire swirl of color trapped in a frame of white baby's breath. The candles she had set out earlier were lit, casting everything in a warm amber light, and Lily spun around, certain she would find James behind her, already snickering, but the hallway still appeared empty.
Ages had probably gone by since the last time he had seen her look happy. He had missed all the happy events in her life; on the day they had left school, she had avoided him, and of course, he had not attended her wedding even though Lupin, the werewolf, had told him about the date. In the candle light, she looked radiant. The fire picked up golden and ruby highlights in her hair, and her smile was irrepressible even coupled with her obvious confusion. He thought about showing himself, but the thought of making that smile fade kept him away.
"James, if you're here --" Lily started to say, but the front door opened just as she spoke. A disheveled head of black hair appeared, followed by the rest of James, looking exhausted by pleased as he crossed the foyer and reached for his wife.
Rotten timing, but he had resigned himself to keeping his silence anyway. Silent as a ghost, Severus took one last look at Lily, watching as she beamed in pleasure at her collection of flowers, the ones he had chosen for her. James was making some sort of excuse, but Severus paid no attention to his fumbling. He'd seen her. He'd heard her voice. There would be time later, perhaps, for a proper meeting. For now, he was content to leave with those memories.
"I'm so glad you're home!" Lily exclaimed, wrapping her arms around her husband's neck. He was plainly freezing, his cloak topped with a liberal sprinkling of fresh snow, but even cold his embrace was welcome. She took a step back, surveying the flowers. "I had better get some vases for these," she decided, "and do you know a good preservation spell? I don't want them to wilt, ever!" She turned toward the kitchen, glancing out the window as she did to see the fresh snowfall, and that was when she caught sight of the solitary but utterly familiar figure in black, moving slowly away down the road.
"Are you crying?" James asked a few moments later as he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He wore a sheepish look. Remus had warned him about the holiday, but he had forgotten in the midst of all his work for the Order. Perhaps the flowers had been Remus' way of helping him out. If so, he was grateful. "You're not allergic to those flowers, are you?"
Lily shook her head, hair flying as she dabbed at her eyes. "No, I'm just really happy. Here, take one of these vases. I'll be out in a minute."
She waited for him to leave, then pressed her hand against the cold windowpane and watched as Severus moved away, his black cloak flapping in the wind. Biting her lip, she stared out through the window until he vanished amid the swirling snow. "Happy Valentine's Day," she whispered, and then turned to follow James back to the foyer.