Warnings: None. Ack, well, OK – there's something just barely borders on mpreg but I swear it isn't like that! Probably a PG rating.
Pairings: My first Gen fic. Snape-centric. Mentions of Lily/James. (No mention of Remus/Sirius but just for the record, of course they're a couple! )
Disclaimer: I cannot claim either JK Rowling or Shakespeare's work as my own; I merely hope to show my appreciation of their work.
AN: Many, many thanks go to Angelyuy for her beta and comments. She read through this with virtually no notice whatsoever and was incredibly helpful – even giving me the title. Thank you!!
This is in response to Rynne's Shakespeare challenge…she sent me the most amazing quote and I very much hope I did it some kind of justice.
by Xellas
The quality of mercy is not strained;
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Unto the place beneath. It is twice blest;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.
Gryffindor Seeker Harry Potter was in trouble. His broomstick was lurching around wildly, very much out of the young boy's control. At first, watching intently from the Slytherin stands, Severus Snape had been thrilled. This was what came of breaking rules, of allowing an arrogant little snot-nosed First-Year who wasn't even supposed to have his own broom to play Seeker for the House team.
It soon became apparent that the little Potter's trouble was more than it seemed. Even the most atrocious flyer could never make a broomstick twist and jump about like Harry's. The Nimbus – naturally a Cleansweep would never have been good enough for The Boy Who Lived – was acting like something alive and hostile. Harry's broom had been cursed, that much was obvious; it was taking everything the boy had just to hang on.
Any minute now, Harry would lose his precarious grip and Snape would never have to deal with the arrogant miniature James again. All he had to do was wait.
However, despite the fact that the boy looked and acted like his father, he had his mother's eyes. Snape allowed the briefest flash of an almost-smile to flicker across his face before he began chanting a counter-curse. His eyes were locked on Harry as he spoke, but it was a memory of times past that focused his concentration and put the power into his wandless spell.
He had been caught, on his knees in the dirt, crouched down behind a bush outside of Peter Pettigrew's Hogsmeade flat. Information had been given to the Dark Lord that the Potters, Black and Lupin would be paying a visit to their old friend. Snape snarled. A jolly reunion, that. To his disappointment, all he had been tasked with was verifying that the informant had been telling the truth and that it wasn't any sort of elaborate set-up.
Apparently, the source was reliable, although it was unlikely that Snape would be allowed to return with this information. Had the Potters any idea that the Dark Lord knew their whereabouts, Severus would now be surrounded by a team of Aurors, instead of one obviously irate and very pregnant Lily.
He would rather have faced the Aurors. Not only was Lily one of the most meddlesome Gryffindors ever to graduate from Hogwarts, but she also openly pitied him, which he had found far harder to stomach than Potter's hostility. Neither could he ignore the fact that she had to be nearing her term. It was well known that the closer a witch was to giving birth, the more powerful and uncontrolled her magic became.
"You." Lily hissed, pointing her wand directly between his eyes.
"The words are 'Avada Kedavra', just in case carrying Potter's brat has caused your already feeble mind to atrophy entirely, Mudblood." Snape prided himself on remaining in control.
"I'm not going to kill you, Severus." Lily said evenly.
Snape swallowed. Of course it wasn't going to be that easy; why had he ever even bothered to hope it would be? He was a known Death Eater. He would be brought back to the Ministry to be questioned, probably under Cruciatus. Then, once they had carefully wrung every scrap of information out of him they could find, he would be locked away in Azkaban to slowly go insane and be forgotten. In the meantime, Lupin, Pettigrew, Black and Potter would doubtless use the opportunity afforded by his imprisonment to humiliate him in new and creative ways.
He would not allow that to happen. Subtly, he began reaching for the wand hidden in the sleeve of his robe, attempting to distract his captor with insults.
"Haven't got what it takes, have you? Apparently, Gryffindor courage isn't all it's cracked up to be." As insults went, it wasn't one of his best, but he was under considerable pressure.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Lily said sharply, gesturing at his arms. Silver sparks crackled along her wand with the motion. "Hands out in front of you where I can see them."
Snape let go and his wand, loosened from its fastening on his arm, fell to the ground. He could not risk being put in a full-body bind. He needed to keep his options as open as possible to have any chance at either an unlikely escape or at the very least, a clean death.
"Nothing you do matters." He said silkily. "You've caught me today, but another will come, and another after that. You, your friends, your husband and your brat will all die."
"Shut up!" The sparks were pouring from the tip of her wand now. At any moment her control would shatter.
"Of course, there are still some things the Dark Lord is content to leave to chance. For example, will your child die before or after you give birth to it? Care to make a wager?"
"Do you WANT me to kill you?" Lily interrupted, incredulous, her hand gripping her wand so tightly that her knuckles had gone white. Her entire body was held rigid; only her wand was moving, vibrating with the intense suppressed fury of its owner.
"Finally the stupid bint gets it! Hurry on with it, will you? We haven't got all day." Through long practice, Snape managed to keep the hope out of his voice. With any luck, Potter and Black would need to find an alternative source of entertainment.
"You really mean that, don't you?" Lily asked softly. Her shoulders slumped, anger dissipated, though she still held her wand firmly.
That bloody sympathy of hers always managed to kick in at the most inopportune times. Any Slytherin worth his salt could recognize when he had lost and pay the price accordingly. And Severus knew he'd lost.
"There isn't anything on this Earth worth being forced to keep company with Mudbloods and blood traitors, it is that simple. So can we please skip the psychoanalysis? Whatever you're going to do with me, just get it over with."
To his surprise, Lily nodded. She took a deep breath and began weaving her wand in the intricate and graceful pattern of a very difficult charm, one Severus did not recognize and would have most likely been unable to cast if he had. He was lifted out of himself, watching her, their mutual dislike entirely forgotten. Lily's fluid movements could not be described by any word so mundane as spellcasting; she danced like a Pagan goddess accepting him as her sacrifice. A soft glow began to light her from within and her green eyes, focused on him now that the pattern was nearing its end, were soft and warm and welcoming.
"Communico Effusio!"
The sweet light that had enveloped Lily transferred itself to Snape, settling around him like the memory of a loving embrace. It gently cleaned and warmed his dirty skin; his pores drank in its sweetness eagerly. It moved inside him. It was uncomfortable and strange, exciting and beautiful, all at once. Tenderly, it wrapped itself around his heart.
Another being, a life, was within him. Severus understood on a level he could not have explained. He was needed and in return he loved unconditionally.
It felt as though he stood there for an hour, just breathing. The air was slightly chilly for a summer's day, but he could smell the approach of rain. Distantly he was aware that his back and legs ached and that he was hungry, but all of it was his to give gladly to the being inside him.
Eventually, the spell began to wear off. The beloved presence was leaving him, but there was happiness to be found even in that. It was the way of all things.
Several moments passed before either of them spoke.
"Was I?" Snape asked, shaken.
Lily smiled and shook her head. "Of course not."
"But that is what it feels like?" He could hear his own awe and for once in his life was not ashamed.
"Yes." She answered. "Do you understand now? All life has meaning. Even your own."
And Severus Snape, for the first time, found something that he truly valued. Something worth his skills and talent, a prize far beyond anything Malfoy or Lestrange would ever understand.
He smiled and that was answer enough.
A soft rain began to fall, the droplets warm in the chill air.
"You'd better get going then, hadn't you?" Lily said briskly, turning to go back to the house.
Yes, he needed to go. He was already overdue and could not afford to keep the Dark Lord waiting. Still, their exchange was unfinished.
"Lily–" he began.
"Hm?" She paused faced him once more, the rain dripping from her hair and onto her large stomach. She was an obnoxious person, a jumped-up little Mudblood who thought she knew what was best for everyone – but he no longer wanted to see her die.
"I did not come here by accident. I was sent to find you and…your husband."
She shook her head in disbelief, but she was frowning. "That's impossible. No one knew we were going to be here."
"Of course someone knew. You aren't alone, are you?" Burying her head in the sand certainly wasn't going to help.
Lily went pale. "It can't – they wouldn't – I'm sorry. I appreciate what you're trying to do, but there must be some mistake."
"Get inside before you catch a cold." Severus did not wait for a reply; he picked up his wand from where it had fallen in the muddied earth and Apparated away.
The very next day he had gone to Dumbledore. And ever since, although he'd never been so foolish as to write it down, he'd kept a running mental tally of names and faces, of lives he had saved.
Snape had nearly completed the countercurse when the scent of acrid smoke filled his nose, quickly followed by blistering heat. He jumped up to stamp out the flames that had magically appeared on his robes, cursing whatever prankster had prevented him from adding the name 'Harry Potter' to his list. Missing out on that satisfaction, of knowing that a Potter owed his life to Snape rather than the other way around, was almost more than he could bear. Harry may have pulled through on his own this time, but Snape would be watching.
And in the meantime, there would doubtless be an abundance of opportunities to keep the boy's ego in check.
A/N: One afterthought, this is a take on Snape's view of Lily – by no means do I intend to bash a character I find very intriguing.