Demise of a Death Eater

The last blood red rays of the sun fell below the horizon as the sound of a great engine roared off into the sky above the village of Godric's Hollow. Despite the terrible events that had transpired in the village the previous night there was not a soul around to witness a motorbike disappearing into the dusk, nor the shadowy figure which materialised by the ruined cottage. Cloaked like Death himself, Severus Snape lay a pale, shaking hand on the garden gate and, trembling, pushed it open. Ignoring the squeaking hinges, Snape almost stumbled along the garden path, dark eyes roving around what used to be such a well cared-for garden, but had recently fallen into neglect; the lawn was in dire need of mowing, the flower beds over-grown with weeds, yet the last of that year's lilies managed to rise above the interlopers.

"Lily..." Snape whispered. Hot tears were already forming in the corners of his eyes.

Tearing away his gaze Snape returned his focus to the house; one whole side had been blasted away, the glass in the windows blown out, and the front door lay broken in the hallway. Even after a day the residue of such dark and evil magic still weighed heavy on Snape, making him sick to think of what had happened here. Was this what he had believed in, becoming a Death Eater? To cause such fear and anguish as he felt in the air at Godric's Hollow. Before he entered the cottage Snape glanced up at the night sky. The first stars were out, shining down on celebrating wizards and unknowing Muggles alike, in the distance he could hear the explosions and see the glare of fireworks being let off, but above the house was a far more sinister gleam. Though it had faded upon the demise of its maker, like the afterglow of a candle that has been snuffed out, the Dark Mark still burned dimly in the darkness, as if hinting that the Dark Lord was not completely vanquished.

All of a sudden doubts crept into Snape's mind. He should not be here; Aurors could arrive at any moment to remove the bodies, and on seeing a known Death Eater at the scene of the Potter's murders they would not hesitate to use lethal force if necessary. But then, Snape thought, perhaps it was the Dark Mark, or more importantly the one who had cast it and committed these crimes, that had kept them away.

No, Snape shook his head. Did it really matter if the Aurors arrived now? What did he care if he was caught, or killed, when the only woman he had ever loved was dead? Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing he had done, nothing he had not done, none of it mattered. He just had to see her one last time, to confirm the terrible truth, before whatever fate befell him next. Snape failed to notice the battered front door creaking beneath his feet as he entered the house, his eyes captured by a sight he had long dreamed of, but could barely stand to see; the body of James Potter lifeless before him. He gazed upon his school-day bully, and found that he felt nothing for the man; not the smallest measure of joy filled his heart, nor even the tiniest modicum of remorse at his death.

And this made Snape feel almost as sad as the thought of losing his Lily. Had he changed that much since leaving Hogwarts and becoming a Death Eater? There had been a time when his heart was filled with hatred and anger at Potter, now there was nothing. It had happened so slowly and stealthily he had not realised how cold and unfeeling he had become; being a servant of Voldemort had destroyed his passions and seemingly left him with a hardened heart. Drawing in a deep breath, Snape looked up from the body and respectfully manoeuvred his way to the stairs. There was no point wasting time remembering a man he cared nothing for.

Slowly Snape ascended the Potter's staircase, instinctively freezing as he stepped upon the squeaky step in the middle, before mentally chiding himself and continuing up. The scale of the damage to the cottage was much more evident upstairs; to his right the house was immaculate, nothing was out of place, it could have been cleaned that morning. But to the left moonlight shone upon the floor, as the roof had been completely blown away, and Snape could see out of the cottage and along to the end of the street. However, his eye had been caught by something else; a flame of bright red hair blazing in the moonlight, pale and flawless skin almost glowing and a pair of emerald green eyes reflecting the starlight above. Immediately Snape rushed to Lily's side, falling to his knees and gathering her in his arms. He cradled her terribly cold body to his own, as if hoping he could warm her back to life, repeating her name as though calling her back from the dead. The tears that had been resting in the corners of Snape's eye finally began to fall, slowly at first but soon they accelerated into uncontrolled sobs as Snape held Lily close, running his fingers through her fiery hair and gazing into her perfect green eyes.

How could he have let this happen to her? He should have done more; he had begged the Dark Lord to spare Lily's life but he should have known his request would not have been met. Voldemort was not known for mercy, for sparing those he would rather kill, Snape should have been there to protect her, to stand between them and give his life for hers. But what good would that have done? Voldemort would have killed him without a second thought, and Lily would have been killed soon after. At least he would have died beside her, not be forced to live in a world made suddenly duller without Lily Evans in it. No, Snape shook his head again. Not Evans, Lily Potter. She had never been his, not in that way, and while Lily had not always looked favourably upon James Potter, she had ultimately fallen for him and borne his son. James' son, Harry, whom Dumbledore had told him had her eyes, her exact eyes. Snape looked into Lily's own empty eyes, and unable to bear seeing them so lifeless, he gently closed them with two slender fingers. He smiled sadly; Lily looked as though she could be sleeping, lounging against a tree by the lake at Hogwarts in early summer as they took advantage of the sun to do their homework outdoors. She looked innocent again, as she had before the War, before she had left Hogwarts, before he had betrayed her.

Drying his eyes, Snape looked about the room in which she rested, and though there was little of it left he could tell that it was a nursery. It was obviously Harry's room; he could see Lily barricading herself in here, shielding her son from the Dark Lord with her own body, before falling to her enemy and praying it would be enough to save Harry. Suddenly a strange vision of the baby boy desperately trying to waken his seemingly sleeping mother before being taken somewhere safe by that oaf Hagrid came to Snape, as though Lily herself were somehow trying to communicate with him. Snape looked again upon his childhood friend, and fancied he almost saw her smile. He had betrayed her so greatly in his youth, and now it was too late to compensate for his mistakes.

But perhaps he could make amends for his mistakes by doing what he could to protect her son. He had never really believed in the ideals of the Dark Lord; he had only become a Death Eater because it had given him a sense of belonging, he had been rejected by most at Hogwarts but his proficiency in potions had brought him to the attention of fledgling Death Eaters at school and he had blindly followed his peers into Voldemort's circle. But no more, this was the demise of a Death Eater, his "master" had lost him forever, by betraying his trust and murdering his only true friend Voldemort had signed his own execution order. Snape had heard the Prophecy; he knew the potential the Potter boy had. He would both avenge Lily and make amends for his past deeds by protecting Harry, ensuring her son lived so her sacrifice was not made in vain. As Snape prepared to Disapperate, he kissed Lily gently on the forehead, promising he would make up for every way he had wronged her, and would personally ensure Harry's safety, as he had loved her and would love her...

Always...