Three
by nahimana
Summary: "Sometimes he asks if Snape thinks they can win, and Snape says yes. Snape has always been a liar."
Warnings: Angst, war
Notes: Harry is 18. HBP didn't happen.
Three Weeks
It's coming closer, Snape can feel it. The enemy is gathering its forces, and the mark on his arm burns constantly. Everyone has gone home, Dumbledore sent them a week ago, all except Potter and his friends. The Order members have arrived; Hogwarts is safest for the battle. They don't invite Snape to meetings much anymore, he yells at them too much. Potter still comes down at night, like he's done for nearly a year now.
Three Days
The brat's friends have noticed, Snape knows. They can't really be bothered hiding it. It's pointless, Snape thinks, when you're all going to die. Pointless to hide.
Dumbledore gives daily speeches for morale. They seem to help Potter and his friends, but nobody else can bear to listen anymore. There are plans everywhere, strategies and maps. Lists of curses to use and books to read. It's cold and quiet at night, when he leaves. Sometimes, they don't speak at all. There's no need for noise. Sometimes he asks if Snape thinks they can win, and Snape says yes. Snape has always been a liar.
Three Hours
Potter told them, as Snape knew he would. They reacted as he knew they would too. Weasley is waiting for the end of the war for the ear bashing to begin, or maybe he's just waiting until he can kill Snape and make it seem like an accident. Dumbledore is nervous, Snape can tell, but if he looks away it's not as painful.
Three Minutes
The sound of apparating is filling the air, and wands are drawn. The centaurs, unicorns and other wild beasts come out of the forrest to support them, and Ministry workers appear to fight. They are outnumbered still. Voldemort is yet to be sighted, but Snape is sure he won't be there until the end. In the crowd of black, Snape notices a sliver of bright blonde hair. Lucius, his old love. It pains Snape to see him there, to know that Lucius will seek him out. To know that he will have to kill him. Snape's regrets are his weakness.
Three Seconds
Potter is at his side, now, and Snape turns a questioning glance. He shrugs as an explanation, and Snape rolls his eyes. They smile, a gesture that feels so foreign, so unusual, so inappropriate. Then again, nothing between them has ever been appropriate. They know its the end. They will die fighting for this unattainable victory, die for their cause and there will be no more famous Harry Potter. No more Greasy Old Snape. No more light, only dark. Time won't matter anymore.
Fin.