The Draught of Somnus
Severus slid the pieces of his life together and then apart, searching for the completed puzzle he knew he'd find within. So much he had put into this day so many years before, and so much had been lost to him forever.
It was the day his loathing for Potter had been made complete. The foolish boy had done the only brave act in his existence to save a life he had helped lead to an early death, and Lily had seen through the veil of hatred both she and Severus had imagined draped over the spindly arms and over-confident face of James Potter. At last, the Lily had succumbed to the locust, and her petals had been consumed to be his alone forever.
And now, the last Potions lesson he would ever give loomed before him, a lesson containing the very child incarnate of the enemy Severus knew would fall as the last piece in the puzzle to mark its inevitable demise. Potter would, given the chance, do away with Severus' life.
"Today you will be making a very potent sleeping draught. If done right, a goblet of this potion will yield the drinker prophetic dreams for a single night of the most blissful sleep of his life." He paused to glance over the vacant seats of Potter and Weasley. "If done wrong, however, the drinker will fall into a deep slumber and will never awaken." Two silhouettes scuttled in the dusty shadows of the room, attempting to approach without notice.
"Potter, Weasley, ten points from Gryffindor apiece." He said dryly, watching half of their classmates wince. Granger sent them a glare as they collapsed into empty chairs next to her.
"A single sip should give one a glimpse into the motives of his greatest enemy should the potion be correctly concocted." He continued, scanning the room. Severus felt no surprise at the uncomfortable shifting of the students in their seats as they realized what was coming.
"This potion will indeed be given to someone here." Both Potter and Weasley's faces took on a look of dread. "Under Dumbledore's orders, I am to try and glance into the mind of Voldemort under its influence." Malfoy's expression lost its gloating sneer as he undoubtedly realized that it was not to be given to Potter as punishment.
A flash of black robes caught Severus' eye and he turned to stare directly at Granger, her hand held straight into the air with an intent look on her face. "Professor, what is this draught called?"
"It is called the Draught of Somnus. And before you waste more of our time with another question, Granger, it is indeed the same potion taken by the foolish girl in the wizard Shakespeare's play; excepting the mandrake, which removes the effect of the prophetic dreams and instead makes the user appear petrified." Severus said. Granger lowered her hand, frowning.
"As this potion requires time to set, I expect you all to begin immediately." The room erupted into a flurry of books and supplies, the children all scrambling to the cupboards to gather the needed ingredients. Granger, however, started flipping through her textbook and gave him an odd look.
"Professor, there is not one mention of a Draught of Somnus in our books."
"Of course there isn't, Granger, you will be using an older version of the book from when the potion wasn't considered too dangerous for use in the classroom. As you seem so concerned, you may go fetch copies for the rest of the class in the cupboard over there." He pointed with his wand, then immediately used it to tap the desks of Weasley and Potter who seemed to be in a conversation over something, not bothering to prepare their cauldrons.
"I expect both of you to have the draught ready by the end of class. Five points from Gryffindor for wasting time." He returned silently to his desk and watched as the whispered conversations began, the students all seeming edgy and nervous. Severus listened to the various discussions occurring within the room.
"That slimy git deserves this potion. Without, of course, the monkshood!" a Gryffindor muttered proudly to his fellow house and a few suppressed their giggles.
"I can't believe he's allowing us to poison him. I'm sure he knows how much we all hate him." Another voice said.
Severus stared at them all with his face dispassionate and stoic, fully aware of exactly which students were attempting to kill him, which were too afraid of the authorities to do so, and which found that they liked him just enough to be uttermost careful with the concoctions forming in their cauldrons. There were some, mostly Slytherins, that were neutral and made their draughts with their usual efforts.
The more he listened and heard, the more he became confident in his decision and relieved that he no longer had to deal with the burden of being second in favor to the most worthless man on earth. The inevitability of his death was calming and had an interesting effect on his teaching.
Then Severus caught a snippet of conversation from Potter's table.
"Which ingredients do we leave out to make it give the drinker the slowest and most painful death?"
"Ron! You don't actually mean to kill him! He's a professor!"
"Hermione, Snape is the most terrible teacher at the school. He hates us, particularly me, and I know that if we don't poison him first, he'll use the first opportunity he's given to do the favor for me."
"Not to mention he's the most biased prat in the school and with him out of the way, Gryffindor will have a much fairer chance at beating Slytherin."
"Oh, I don't believe you two, planning to kill a teacher simply because of your petty rivalries! Well, I'm going to make the potion right and the Professor can drink mine." She pointedly raised her voice as she said the last sentence.
Severus narrowed his eyes and examined Longbottom's progress, commenting flatly to the pudgy boy "Longbottom, I most definitely will not drink your potion. Maybe your grandmother would take it instead." He said as the student made a pathetic whimper, terror shining in his eyes as if he thought that Severus would actually attempt to give it to the crotchety old woman.
Potter again caught Severus' attention with a comment of his.
"My dad wouldn't hesitate an instant to- mess up this potion," Potter whispered. He seemed to have reconsidered saying 'kill Snape', possibly in fear of being overheard, Severus noticed.
"But Harry, you are not your father. He tried to feed Snape to a werewolf, remember?"
"But unfortunately he didn't go through with it to the end. That's a pity." Weasley said in such a manner that Severus couldn't tell if it was meant to be sarcasm or not.
"No… He didn't." Potter seemed to contemplate this. A hiss came from the cauldron as another ingredient was added.
Severus returned to the front of his classroom to wait as the last of the time left and the students started to tidy their cauldrons. One by one, they approached him with vials of their draughts and poisons, some of them handing theirs over with a snigger, others with calm or somberness.
Potter's face held a strange expression as he hesitantly placed his vial on the desk. Then he turned and walked out of the classroom to join the others, leaving Severus with not a clue whether the vial held a poison or the Draught of Somnus.
Glancing from potion to potion, Severus tried to decide which one he would take. There was no order from Dumbledore, and he was surprised that no one could see through his excuse. Even Potter and Granger, who knew the headmaster well enough, seemed unusually thick enough to believe it.
Lily was gone. No matter how much she appeared to live on inside Potter, she was still dead. Those green eyes were in James' body, Severus reminded himself. And as there was nothing left of Lily in this world, he planned on leaving it to join her, wherever she now was.
James will get his wish, Severus concluded, selecting the vial placed purposely at the back of all of the others. Holding it delicately, he loosened the cork and watched a thin tendril of purple steam lift into the air, the liquid within the vessel shimmering with incandescence.
He settled back into his chair, still unsure about his decision. To die seemed too easy; simply down the potion and wait for sleep to come. It would end his petty curse, his stupid obsession with a dead girl who had chosen someone better. Severus knew that James truly was better than him. Lily could see that, and her choice was wise.
It still hurt, it hurt like the mark inscribed so beautifully on his arm that reminded him again and again of what he had been and what he was. Sleep would be welcome, a last reprieve from everything.
Candlelight threw its rays past the potion as it was raised to his lips. The Draught of Somnus settled cold into him, a clarifying rush accompanying its consumption. James would at last manage to kill him through his son; Potter could only have made a poison.
The last drip slid into his mouth and Severus lowered the emptied vial, placing it again upon his desk.
Smiling genuinely as sleep descended upon him, Severus closed his eyes and waited.