Written for Ilia's Every Word Counts challenge at HPFF (prompt: must be exactly 500 words) and unlikely . angel's (minus the spaces) The Dream Challenge at The Golden Snitches (prompt: must be a dream sequence, and the character must at some point realize they're dreaming). First HP fic in almost a year! Let me know what you think!
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Life wasn't solid. It shifted and changed and swept in and out like the tide, and just why hadn't he noticed that before? One moment he stood atop a mountain looking down on his world, the next he fought for breath as the water dragged him under.
The ocean held him prisoner, sneering at his struggles for freedom. It wrapped cold arms around him lovingly and whispered in his ear, "It's what you deserve, isn't it?"
He choked his denial, choked back the urge to scream that he hadn't meant it, it wasn't his fault, but it was, and she knew and oh how she must have hated him, would have hated him if she's known-
Perhaps it was best to surrender to the inevitable. The water surged around him, and he hadn't the strength to fend it off anymore. The surface had to be miles away, miles above or below or in whichever direction mercy lay. No way to reach it. No reason to try...
And then, in the blink of an eye, he knew there was no point in trying, because none of this could be real. If it was real, she wouldn't be there, her hair billowing in a curtain around her as she hung effortlessly before his eyes.
"Severus," she whispered. Her words floated on air that didn't exist. "You're not forgiven. How could you be? You lied. You left me to a fate worse than this, and now you want to be saved?"
Finding he could speak even if he still could not breathe, he croaked, "I wanted to save you. I wanted you to save yourself. The boy... he didn't have to live. You could have let him die. He wouldn't have known what he was missing."
She looked at him with such sad eyes, such sad, beautiful, emerald eyes. Dumbledore's words rang in his head. Did the boy - James Potter's boy - did he really have eyes that shade, that shape? Not possible.
No, because those eyes couldn't be recreated, not even a dream, because the longer he stared at her, the more he became aware that those weren't her eyes, not bright enough, not alive enough.
"Oh, Severus," she said sadly, "if only I thought you didn't believe that."
She vanished forever, for the third time in his life, leaving him alone in a sea of his own despair, and if he was crying, well, who would ever know? What was a drop or two among billions?
Nothing remained for him here in this world, while in the waking world, a burden rested on his shoulders. Should he ever wake up, he would have a responsibility to teach at Hogwarts until his purpose had been fulfilled, to bide his time until the child he instinctively hated required his protection.
If only I thought you didn't believe that.
His fate sealed by words, his own and more importantly hers, Severus knew he needed to wake up.
He had a promise to fulfill.