Please don't hate me! I know some people hate Snape, but I thought it was touching how he was in love with Lily, and he watched after her child. I feel like he was an almost underrated character, and when I was watching the final movie the other day, I couldn't get this thought out of my head. Anyone who had read my work before knows that I'm no stranger to scene continuances. Even though I know some of you out there don't like Snape, at least look at it as tribute to Alan Rickman.
Oh, before I forget, I would like to thank 2 people. First, I would like to thank LiveInLoveAndLaughter for all of her support, even if she's not a Potterhead like the rest of us.
Next, I would like to thank my beta for this fic, my little sister (while I can't think of her screenname right now, please be aware that I will be altering this AN as soon as I can get it from her). Thanks, Trouble Maker, love you! (But don't tell Mom ;))
Pain.
That was all that Severus Snape could feel, all he knew. In his thirty-eight years, he had known all sorts of pain.
The pain of being neglected by his parents.
The pain of humiliation, handed out to him by James Potter and his fellow Marauders.
The pain of a lost love, when Lily had not only fallen in love with his tormentor, a man she had once claimed to be a prat, but had given him a son.
The pain of loss, when he came to her house that horrible night, and held her lifeless body in his arms, while her son cried in his crib, calling for the father that laid dead at the top of the stairs, the mother who had given her life for his, and he cried for the woman he had loved with all his heart, who had only loved him as a brother at best.
But this, this was the pain of death, his death. A slow and painful one, at that. He could feel the energy leaving his body, flowing almost as liberally as the blood from snake bites did.
The pain was so all consuming, he didn't even notice someone had returned to the room, until they were standing kneeling beside him.
He felt a hand at his neck, and lifted his gaze to one he thought he would never see again. Lily's eyes, but yet, not hers. These were someone else's.
Harry, his dying brain supplied. And yet, he couldn't stop thinking of Lily. She wouldn't have wanted this, he thought. She would have never agreed to Dumbledore's plan. She wouldn't have kept it a secret for all these years. She would have told her son, let him make his own decisions, let him live his life.
Unable to even reach for the wand that lay across the floor from him, let alone extract the memories himself, Severus did something that he hadn't done in nearly seventeen years; he cried.
"Take them," he said. The words were a struggle, but they needed to be said. The memories needed to be seen. He needed to know why he did what he did. "Take them to the pensieve" he said, struggling to breath let alone talk as Harry gripped the vial that contained the precious memories tightly in his hand.
The dark haired young man turned his head, though with his dimming vision, Snape couldn't see who it was. It appeared as though they were about to leave.
No, he thought. Not yet. Just one more time.
With what little strength he had left, he gripped Harry's arm. "Look at me," he begged.
He waited for Harry to look at him. He stared him, dead in the eyes, unable to look anywhere other than those green eyes. Lily's eyes.
"You have your mother's eyes," he said as the pain ebbed away fading into a numb nothingness.
I tried, he thought. I tried to save your son. I'm sorry. And with that final thought, Severus Snape closed his eyes one final time.
Sorry if I made you cry. If it makes you feel any better, I cried while writing this, myself. Don't forget to leave a review! I give my cat Athena a treat for each one.