Two words. The two words that had been the last spoken, the last wasted, by one of the greatest wizards that had ever lived. The two words that had changed Severus Snape's life forever. The two words that had let a little boy retain his innocence for a little while longer, if only for a little while.
He could not have dare defied the only man that had ever trusted him, believed in him, even after all he had done. Dumbledore had argued with him over this; the old man begging him to swear that he would keep Draco's innocence intact and for Severus himself to kill him, if the time came, to end the suffering he had known ever since he had cracked open the ring. And he had. He had killed - no, murdered, slaughtered- the only person that trusted him, all for the sake of one little boy that had thought himself big enough to play with the adults. He, Severus Snape had killed Albus Dumbledore.
The Order hated him now, with a passion he was surprised by. There were wards up against him now; to prevent him from entering the last place many of them had found peace. The Dark Mark burned often, Voldemort called; his first master. And so, once a week Severus played the role of dim-witted servant, a slave to the Dark Arts. But he wasn't, not now. He had been, though for a short time after Lily. Voldemort knew, he was sure he did. His right-hand man, a traitor. He was allowed to live, allowed to know their secrets, he supposed, because Voldemort had no proof of his turning, only suspicions. And suspicions were never good enough for the Dark Lord. Suspicions had not saved Lily.
Lily. The name echoed in his mind, taunting him after all these years. Dear, sweet, beautiful Lily. Whatever had she done to deserve death? She had been pure, innocent, never hurting anything. And that had got her killed. She had never been a fighter, more of a peacemaker. She had never wanted to join the war. But Potter had dragged her into it with his so proclaimed, "love". "Talking won't protect you Lily. Only fighting will. We have to join this war, we have to fight."
She had never talked to him ever since that fateful day. The day that would change his destiny forever. He had seen her once, red hair falling into her eyes, wand out, as she bravely stood and cursed the Death Eater in front of her, a hand clutching her robes. When the Death Eater had died, she had dropped her wand and fell to the snow-covered grass, sobbing as tears poured down her cheeks. She wasn't meant for fighting.
He had never meant to hurt her, but, somehow, unknowingly, he had. He had broken her spirit. He had hurt her. And now she was dead, buried alongside her husband in Godric's Hollow. Dead. Not even a breath of wind would disturb her now. She would feel no more pain.
She would never gaze upon his with her bright green eyes, nor place a comforting hand on his pale cheek. She would never whisper encouraging words as he turned away from her and braved his dorm-mates once again. She would never laugh with him, not any more. He had destroyed that.
That was the reason he had first joined the Death Eaters, he supposed. Not having Lily had made him choose the wrong side, not think about what they really were behind their façade of friendly men. Though he could not blame her, he had lost Lily himself, by his harsh words. But he had gained her himself, through his promises of a world where she would be accepted for what she really was, a world where she would learn her skills as a talented witch. A world where there had been peace, for a time. But this had gone dreadfully wrong years after their arrival at the famed wizarding school. Hogwarts. Their home, their castle. The backdrop of many fights between himself and Potter. That Gryffindor prat that had stolen Lily from him, married her and had Harry bloody potter, the sodding savior that was to save the wizarding world from certain death from Voldemort.
Voldemort. His savior, he had first thought. The snake-like man who saved him from his dreadful existence, the one who had made him forget about Lily. His soul would be darkened, but his future bright. Wand in hand, mark on his arm, he who defend his master from the uptight Order members. He would be remembered as a great man. Or so he had thought.
Now on the run, the scared boy he had saved from certain death, beside him, wand in hand, Severus was more scared than he had even been before. For the first time in almost three decades, he was responsible for another. Another life. Another heart. Another soul. Another……… Draco.
Lily.
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Title is stolen from the first two lines of Lea Salonga's song "Two Words."
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