The Prince in Love
"I don't want to talk to you, just go away." She had said quietly, stepping out from the portrait hole, dressed in her pyjamas.
"You came," he had sighed, relief racing through his body, "Oh, I'm -"
"Go away." She had said again, raising her voice slightly.
"But… I'm sorry."
"I'm not interested."
"I'm sorry! I -"
"Save your breath." She had interrupted, her voice getting louder and sharper. "I only came out here to tell you to go away; Mary told me you were threatening to sleep here."
"I was, I would have done, I will, unless you listen to me!"
"Fine!" She had snapped, folding her bare arms over her body, "You have thirty seconds."
"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it; I never meant to call you a mudblood, it just -"
"Slipped out." She had finished, her voice cold and hard, pitiless.
He hadn't nodded, but his face had obviously given him away.
"It's too late. I've made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends." She had paused, inviting him to speak, evidently hoping for a protest that didn't come, "you see, you don't even deny it! You don't even deny that's what you're aiming to be! You can't wait to join You-Know-Who, can you?"
He opened his mouth
"I can't pretend any more. You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine."
"No - listen, I didn't mean -"
"- to call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, why should I be any different?"
He had tried to speak, but no sound had come out. She had turned and walked back through the portrait hole, and he could have sworn he heard a small sob.
"But Lily, I love you," he had said, but she had already gone.
Severus Snape thought of that conversation every day. He wondered what would have happened if he had never called her a mudblood, or if he had denied wanting to be a death eater, or if she had heard those three words.
She would not be dead; she would be alive, maybe spending the rest of her life with him.
Her beauty would have lasted, and whenever he looked up, there she would be, her red hair shining, her emerald green eyes looking into his soul, seeing more of him than anyone had seen before.
And he would not be standing on the top of the tower now, his wand raised, ready to kill the only person he could really trust.
"Avada kedavra." He said, pointing his wand at Albus Dumbledore, his eyes beginning to water.
Those three words would have changed everything.