Severus Snape
The destroyed house was deserted. Empty. The wind whistled. The raven cawed. The leaves blew across the sidewalk that led to a door that was ajar.
A lone figure shrouded in a cloak stopped at the gate. He was as dark as the night. He quickly glanced around, then slowly pushed the gate open. Its squeak echoed around the forlorn street. The figure moved swiftly, his cloak flapping out behind him, making him look almost bat-like.
He paused at the door, then crossed the threshold.
He hardly glanced at the figure of another man on the floor. His glasses were askew, and he had a blank look in his eyes, and the man in the cloak knew that the man on the floor would never draw another breath.
But the man moved on up the stairs. He was searching, searching for her, because if she was dead…he would be alone in a world with no tomorrow. No ending to this nightmare.
He reached the landing. He saw the door. Saw the furniture that had been blasted aside. Saw the cradle, and the faintest silhouette of a body on the floor.
The man moved swiftly to the room. He had to get there. Had to get to her. Maybe he could help her…help her stay alive.
But he knew. Knew she was dead. He had known it since his master had set off after Pettigrew had finished telling his master his information. Her address.
He dropped to his knees when he saw her lifeless face. She had a look of terror in her eyes. Terror, not for herself, but for her child, and for her dead husband.
The man took short, gasping breaths as he cradled her head and shoulders in his arms. He held onto her, because she had been the only real thing in the world. The only thing worth living for was to see her smile.
And he would never see it again.
A tear trickled down the man's cheek. He threw his head back and yelled at the sky. He yelled at the sky in hopes that she would hear him.
She was his best friend and his worst enemy. She was his One True Love, the person who kept him going.
And now she was gone.
The man hunched over, his body shaking with sobs over the dead woman called Lily Evans, the one who had died not loving him, but another man, the dead woman called Lily Evans who had died not loving their child, but the spawn of another's.
Lily Evans was dead, and Severus Snape was alone in the world.
Dear Lily,
Not a day goes by that I don't think about you. How could you be gone? Remember all those times in the forest, when we'd sneak out look at the stars. You'd ask me about magic. Dementors, mostly. I told you that they sucked all the happiness from the world, and they'd steal your soul. Why would you want to know about Dementors, Lily? You were the happiest person I knew.
How could you be gone? You promised, Lily. You promised. Remember? Best friends forever.
I messed up, Lily. You were already suspicious of me hanging around Avery and Mulciber. I'm sorry. I needed friends, Lily, because you were slipping away from me every day…and it hurt. It hurt so bad.
I called you a Mudblood. I didn't mean it. I promise. You were my friend, Lily. My best friend. My only friend.
I can't believe you're gone.
He sat in Dumbledore's office, hunched over. He could feel the old man's eyes on him, and he knew that he was obliged to look up. He did so, and he saw his reflection in Dumbledore's half-moon glasses. His face looked like he had lived a hundred years of misery, and there were tear stains on his face. His hair was bedraggled. His face was gaunt. His eyes were full of pain.
"I thought you were going to…keep her safe." He said. A stab in his heart. Lily was gone.
"She and James put their faith in the wrong person." Dumbledore said. She and James. It sounded so wrong to him. Like putting sweet honey and rotten eggs together. Wrong.
Dumbledore continued. "Rather like you, Severus. Were you not hoping that the Dark Lord would spare her?"
His breathing was shallow. He had asked, asked the Dark Lord to spare her. To just kill her son and her husband. But not her.
"Her boy lives."
His head jerked up. "Her son survives. He has her eyes, her precise eyes. You remember the shape and color of Lily Evan's eyes, do you not?"
Anger. Anger at Dumbledore, anger at the boy who survived instead of her. Anger at his master for not sparing her. Anger at himself.
"DON'T!" He roared. Pain. Pain in his heart. "She's gone…dead…." Lily Evans. His One True Love. Dead.
"Is this remorse, Severus?" Dumbledore asked. Remorse, he thought. Of course. He would forever regret his decision to invite Pettigrew to the Dark Side.
"Do you want to get back at Potter and Black?" Young Severus asked fiercely. "Do you want to show them that you are more than just a fat whining rat?" Young Pettigrew nodded, staring up at Severus with wide eyes.
"You know, Severus." Young Pettigrew said. Young Severus looked at him. "You aren't half bad."
"I wish I were dead." He whispered. Dumbledore was not pleased with this. "What use would that be to anyone?" He asked coldly. "If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, than your path forward is clear."
He felt as if he were looking through a curtain. A curtain that was grey, because the world had lost color when Lily Evans had died. He felt as if someone had placed earmuffs over his ears, because the world had lost its rich sound when it realized that Lily Evans's laugh would never grace its surface again.
"What do you mean?" He asked slowly. Dumbledore turned to face him. "You know why she died. Make sure she did not die in vain, Severus. Help me protect Lily Evans's son."
He couldn't do that. Protect a Potter. Not a chance, because Potter didn't deserve to be protected. Lily had died loving James Potter, not Severus Snape.
Not Severus Snape.
"He doesn't need protection. The Dark Lord is gone—"
"The Dark Lord will be back, and Harry Potter will be in danger when he does." Dumbledore said, gazing into his eyes.
It did not matter. He was still a Potter.
"Let's play house, Sev!" Young Lily exclaimed. "That game's dumb, Lily." Said Young Severus. "Oh, please, Sev? Please?" Young Lily begged. Young Severus looked into Young Lily's eyes. "Fine," He said.
"I'll be the mummy, and you'll be the daddy!" Young Lily said with an excited little skip and a clap of her hands. "And we'll have one baby boy, named Harry!" She giggled.
"Very—very well, Dumbledore." He conceded. "But never—never tell!" This must be between only us! Swear it! I can't bear…especially Potter's son…I want your word!" He said. Dumbledore looked down at him with a sad little look in his eyes. "My word that I shall never reveal the best of you, Severus? Very well…"
Dear Lily,
I promise I'll protect him. Harry. Not for him. Not for Potter. For you. Because you would have wanted it.
Remember when we'd play house, Lily? You'd be the mummy. I'd be the daddy. You'd always, always, always name our son Harry.
It was our game, Lily. And then you gave the name to Potter's spawn. How could you? It was our game.
Did you name him Harry because of that? Did you still find it in your heart to feel sorry for me? Did you? Did you remember me in your dying moments, Lily? Because I'll remember you. I promise.
I'll never forget you, Lily. Of course I won't.
Potter's son. He knew that he hated the boy the moment that he looked into those green eyes, Lily's eyes.
It was half and half. Lily and Potter. Wrong. His hair. His nose. His face. His build.
Her eyes.
But maybe he didn't hate him
Maybe he cared for the boy
But not really.
Dear Lily,
I met your son. He has your eyes. Why didn't you tell me?
He looks just like his father. James Potter. Why did it have to be him? I'd be okay with anyone else. Just not Potter.
Even Lupin would have been better.
I tried to be nice to him, Lily. But…I can only see Potter. I try to think, 'What would I do to help Lily learn?'
But I can only see Potter.
Why did you have to die? I loved you, Lily. You were the bright spot in my life. Whenever life, school, Marauders, beat me down. Well, Lily, you'd be there. You were there for me.
Where did you go?
You aren't here for me now.
Pain. Horrible pain. It was all a blur. Black, Lupin. Potter, Weasley. Granger, Pettigrew.
And then he was awake. And everything was clear again. He could see.
(But not really, because Lily was gone)
He got to his feet. His wand lay a few feet away. He grabbed it up and dusted himself off. He looked around.
The Weasley boy was lying on the ground. He conjured a stretcher and levitated him onto it.
The grounds were silent. The Whomping Willow was still. The castle was dark. The moon was shining.
The moon.
Suddenly, a long, loud howl split through the silence. Lupin. The boy. Weasley and Granger. Black. They were in danger. There was a werewolf on the loose.
The boy. Potter. That was all he could think of. He didn't care about Granger, or Weasley, or Black. Save Potter. Save Potter because if you don't, you'll never see Lily's eyes again.
He heard a loud yell. Potter. He looked toward the lake. Dementors were rising up, and he knew that someone had cast a Patronus. He started running with the stretcher.
He reached the lake's shore, and was brought back to a different time. A happier time, but yet, somehow unhappier.
"I don't need help from a filthy little Mudblood!"
"Take it back, Snivillus!"
He should have taken in back. He did take it back.
He took it back to late.
"I'm not interested in your apology, Severus."
"I swear I didn't mean to call you that."
"Call me what? A Mudblood? But you already call everybody of my birth that. Why should I be any different?"
"It's too late, Sev."
"I'm sorry."
Potter and Black and Granger. Passed out by the lake. He bound Black and conjured stretchers for the three of them. Then he slowly made his was up to the castle.
"Mudblood!"
"Apologize, Snivillus!" Young James pulled out his wand.
"James, stop!" Young Lily exclaimed, holding James back. "Don't sink to his level."
James fumed, but he listened to Lily and backed off, walking away. "Yeah, that's right, Potter! Just walk away! You and your whore!" Young Severus jeered, overcome by jealousy. Jealousy that Potter had what he didn't. That Potter had what was his.
Lily.
James roared and swung around to face Severus. He lunged and started punching him. Severus let him do it. He didn't struggle. Lily was screaming at James to stop, but Severus enjoyed the pain.
Pain kept you on your toes, his father used to say.
Dear Lily,
I saved your son again. I hope you're happy.
Anxiety. That's what he felt as he waited with baited breath, willing for Potter to appear, and come out of that wretched maze. The maze that could harm Lily's son.
Potter.
He knew that his old master was rising. He felt the pain in his left forearm, and if you lifted his sleeve, you'd see it. Blacker than ever.
The Dark Mark.
The very thing, the very abomination that had brought the rift in Lily and his relationship.
And then Potter was there. He was there, clutching the lifeless form of Diggory, and sobbing his eyes out. Lily's eyes. And Moody was there, except for, in that instance, he knew that it wasn't Moody. Moody would never take Potter away from Dumbledore's sight in this situation, never, and he was running, running toward the boy, because he knew exactly who the imposter was, and he couldn't let Potter alone with him, because if he did, then his last reminder of Lily was gone. Forever.
It all added up. Barty Crouch's missing son. The missing supplies from his office, the ones to make Polyjuice Potion. Moody's odd trunk.
He alerted Dumbledore and McGonagall, and then they were running. Running for Lily's son, running for the Chosen One, because both Dumbledore and McGonagall could sense it. He was back and He would try to kill Harry. And then…then Lily's eyes…the last link Severus had to Lily…was gone.
And maybe, just maybe, he liked Potter. Maybe he didn't hate him after all.
But not really. Because a Potter was a Potter, and he would always hate the Potters.
Except for Lily. But she didn't count.
Dear Lily,
I saved your son again. He still hates me. Whenever I look into those green eyes, your eyes…I see hate. That's the emotion I mostly saw in your eyes, too, when you looked at me, near the end. I guess those green eyes were always meant to be spitting fire at me.
"He's got Padfoot! He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!"
At first Severus thought that Potter had lost his mind. But it hit him. Padfoot. Padfoot.
"Come on, Padfoot! We don't want to be contaminated by Snivelly's hair."
Black. Potter though that the Dark Lord had Black. But Umbridge was there. He couldn't reveal Black's position to Potter, Umbridge would find out and then the Ministry would lock him up in Azkaban.
(Although, Severus wouldn't mind Black going back to prison, he knew that Potter would be heartbroken if he did. So Severus didn't tell.)
"The next time I want you to shout nonsense at me, Potter, I'll give a Babbling Draught." He said, looking at Potter coldly. But it was all an act, Severus reminded himself, when he saw Potter's helpless look.
"Potter thinks that the Dark Lord has Black." Severus reported. "He might go to the Ministry. You have to be prepared."
That was for you, Lily. Severus thought.
Lily,
Black died tonight. I suppose he's up there with you right now. Up there having fun with Potter, cracking jokes at my expense.
That's okay, though. Tell him that I knew his godson longer than he did. Tell him that for me. Alright? Then, when it's my time, I can finally have the last laugh.
"Avada Kedavra!"
The old man that had cared for him, let him be in the Order despite his many mistakes, that had helped him protect the last bit of Lily he had, was gone. Dead.
And Snape barked orders to the Death Eaters, glancing one last time over to the spot where he knew Potter was hidden. Potter would hate him now.
"I can't understand why Dumbledore trusts you," Rosier said. "I have my ways." Snape said in a detached manner.
"Why did you trust me?" Severus asked the portrait of Dumbledore. Dumbledore smiled serenely. "You loved Lily. You still do. Voldemort killed her. You would do anything to destroy him."
And Severus wondered if Dumbledore could actually x-ray people with his eyes.
"Look at me."
He was slipping, he could tell. He was getting closer and closer to Lily as he spoke his last words. Look at me.
Black found bright green, as Severus sighed an inaudible sigh of content. Lily's eyes. And they didn't spell out hate. They were...caring, almost. And desperate. Desperate to keep him alive. But he knew it was his time. He would finally be with Lily.
"Take them," He stumbled on the words, but he managed to gesture toward his eyes, where he knew memory was leaking out. The Potter boy yelled for a flask, and Severus felt the cool glass against his cheek as the memories dribbled into the vial.
And he died in Lily's eyes. And he was happy.