Disclaimer: I don't own them. Yeah, I read the books. It could still have happened. So there.
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"The Greatest Thing"
Married. She wants to get married. What an utter disaster.
Severus Snape buries his face in his hands, slumping forward in his chair. What a terrible mistake he'd made, having mercy on the wretched woman's soul when she'd confessed her feelings for him, two years previous. Damn Vector, for force-feeding them that oak-matured mead she'd gotten for Christmas and allowing them all to grow so inebriated that he'd not seen his sworn-enemy's maudlin rant coming. She'd worn him down, the blasted twit; after eight years' solid loathing (not to mention twenty-some years' worth of general distaste), he couldn't even bring himself to reject her.
He's growing soft in his old age.
Not that he hasn't suffered because of it. He'd taken being referred to as her "boyfriend" well enough -- had only broken a few of his less-important phials. The public displays of affection... trying, of course, but nothing he couldn't handle. He'd spent years in service to the Dark Lord! There was no pain he could not bear with dignity. Or so he'd thought.
Then, six months ago, she'd said she loved him. His gut wrenched. He'd never said it back. He wouldn't give the incompetent wench the honor of being raised to her level. Severus Snape will only ever love one woman, and that woman has long left this earthly hell.
Beautiful, ethereal, compassionate, talented Lily Evans... no witch alive could ever hope to compare to her. Particularly not the pathetic excuse for an astronomy professor he's graciously taken into his bed. Tired-looking, and mediocre to boot, but she is relentless. He did her one favor, and now he fears he'll never be rid of her.
Even after the unfortunate incident in June, she refused to listen to the others. No! she insisted, at all their whispered warnings regarding his allegiance, there must be more to it. Probably the most perceptive she's ever been, and he respects her for both her observational prowess and her loyalty. But the fact remains that she is in love with him, and that is just unacceptable.
What to do, what to do?
He storms down the spiral staircase with particular determination. He must end the charade. He will simply have to lie. It's what he's best at, after all. Rather than truthfully admit that he is Severus Snape and therefore incapable of loving any living woman, he will just have to explain to her that he is a Death Eater and she will be a liability, should the other side ever start a rebellion. And, oh, they will rebel, he'll say (because he knows she will protest most vehemently); as long as Harry Potter lives, they will rebel. Forget the fact that he's the one making sure that Harry Potter does live to foster that revolution, she doesn't need to know. In fact, he's protecting her.
Chalk that up on his long list of unsung noble actions. He'd better be going to heaven for this.
He's surprised to see her standing by the gargoyle when he emerges. Her glasses have already slipped to the end of her nose and her hair looks more of a mess than usual. "Auriga," he says stiffly.
"Sev." She smiles a little apprehensively and he almost feels inclined to forgive her for the use of the Dreaded Nickname. Not dreaded because it is at all detestable in itself, but because the first person who had ever exercised the name will never speak it, again. She hadn't since that day he...
But that was far too long ago to dwell upon.
"I think you and I need to have a talk." He escorts her to his quarters, already beginning to spin his web as Albus taught him. It's alright; he's only deceiving her for her own good... At least, this is what he must tell himself to quell the guilt building in his chest.
She cries profusely when he is finished with his tale, and for some reason, he cannot begrudge her a comforting embrace. (He really is getting soft.) She looks up at him with wide, frightened eyes, an otherworldly green in candlelight. There is an odd familiarity to their tear-stained depths. Then, without thinking, he kisses her.
"I love you," she pleads, as though for her life. Suddenly, he feels as though some great weight has been lifted from him.
He regards her gravely for a moment, black eyes searching her gaze. He decides to tell the truth, for once in his pathetic existence.
"...I love you, too, Auriga."