Title: Letter Through The Veil

Rating: K

Summary: After talking with Dumbledore the night he learnt of Lily's death, Severus writes a letter he wishes to send through the gates of heaven. SeverusxLily

A/N: This was inspired by the words in Deathly Hallows, The Prince's Memories:

'After all this time?'

'Always,' said Snape.

I am stunned that Rowling could put so much meaning into one word. Makes me cry every time I read it. I don't suppose I could capture Severus Snape's character nearly so well, but I try.

Disclaimer: Nope, I'm not nearly so talented.


Letter Through The Veil

Hogwarts

1st November 1981

Merlin, Lily, I hate him!

Him! Why! Why is it that everything I have ever desired must be his instead of mine! Blood, looks, talent…these, I can forgive! I can even forgive that I owe him my miserable life! But I cannot, will not forgive, that he may die for you, while I must remain, miserably, alive. That he may raise his wand in defence of you, while I must learn that my stupidity cost you your life from a jubilant, drunken fool. James Potter, damn you.

I have not been so wretched for some time, Lily. I am twenty one years old and call myself an adult, my hands are stained with the blood of my victims, yet I have very recently bawled like a baby. It was disgusting. My disgust for such behaviour was not enough to control me when such pain tore me apart. In the privacy of my chambers, I was on my knees, begging, whatever controlling force it was that derived sadistic amusement from my pain, to have some mercy. Never, not even in the face of the Dark Lord's wrath and punishments have I been so reduced-and so I know what a great fool I am.

It has been six years since we broke apart. I cannot, like some smitten fool, name to the day and hour the time it has been since we last spoke, but I fear that the pain has not been deterred for all my solidity of mind.

That day-that day when you refused my apologies-I had not given in to my wish to cry. In Slytherin House weakness is scented as wolves smell prey. Just as your Gryffindor friends could not understand our friendship, I too suffered many taunts for consorting with a muggle-born. Our confrontations had higher stakes, and my skill at potions often came in handy when I came off worse for wear. That day, such an argument was still fresh in my mind, the wounds still new, and therefore your help-unbearable. I was just so humiliated, Lily. I was ready to explain, yet then my tongue was not yet so sharp as it has grown these days, and under your accusing stare, I could find no words. In my distress I wrote to Lucius Malfoy, and he told me that a man must not abandon his ambitions for the want of a woman. And so, pride and ambition convinced me to keep away.

Then, when I was sixteen, my mother died. She should have lived twice as long but for the brutality of my muggle father! He drove me from the house, and Lucius welcomed me with open arms. I had seen first hand the crimes muggles would commit in their narrow-mindedness, and I wanted no wizard or witch to ever suffer again as my mother had. I chose my way, and knew that you, Dumbledore's favoured Gryffindor, you so sweet and bright, would never understand. Still I chose.

That Yule Ball in Seventh Year, when you danced with Potter, I glugged myself on butterbeer until I got drunk. After I watched his sickening romantic proposal-after I saw it accepted-I spent the rest of the night vomiting.

The night of your wedding, Lucius laughed at my mood and convinced me to partake in a spot of muggle-sport. I later learnt that you and he had to turn up to clear up the bodies and Dark Mark we had left behind, and derived vindictive satisfaction that I had ruined the day somewhat.

The news I gave the Dark Lord of the prophecy earnt me glory-yet when I heard your name fall, condemned, from the Dark Lord's lips, such fear gripped me as I had never before felt. I could not understand why I so feared the death of a girl I had long parted ways with, I only knew that I could not know how long you remained to live and do nothing. I begged my lord, I begged Dumbledore, anyone with the power to preserve your life, I put down my wretched pride. Yet still my efforts were in vain. And now I know why I have feared it so-this pain is something no mortal can bear. I feel they must see it on my face that I am a broken man.

Memories assault me. I am gripped with a great desire to hear you say my name, Lily, the way you did when we were children. Severus, not Snape, not spat with contempt. Had I known your dazzling brilliance was fated to burn out at merely twenty-one, ambition could have waited! I would give my wand hand to regain these wasted years. Pity it is, that I can find no devil to bargain with. Indeed I do hope, Lily, that death is not seperated into Heaven and Hell, otherwise a man who has sinned as much as I would have no chance of ever seeing you again. But thinking of fate's love for me, it is likely exactly so.

I am determined to spurn fate. I am a selfish man, and eternity without you is torture indeed, even if Hell had no inferno. They used to tell us that God was merciful and welcomed prodigals, yet I am more concerned for your forgiveness. Would you, in your kindness, forgive? Or would you, in righteous anger, condemn? I deserve it, yet…

For that slight possibility of forgiveness, I shall spend my remaining years in attonement. Dumbledore tells me that child you died to protect has your mesmerizing eyes. I promised to protect him. Is that your last wish, Lily? That your child may grow to be a man? I shall protect him. I shall protect him. He shall be safe, Lily, and happy, as you were. I shall always be his silent protector.

Yours always,

Severus Snape


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