With devils on our side…what's the use in lying?
The truth, itself, will speak volumes were dying.
Dawn was far too slow on the horizon and the black of the night hung in the air as if a permanent backdrop to the chaos going on below it. The moon was shielded by the clouds, weeping behind the thunder for her children, recklessly killing each other and hurting one another. She took comfort in the lightning as the storm took referee to the battle, striking down those who stepped out of bounds. Yet, despite all of this, Severus found himself feeling calm. Having never been very relaxed in his life, this was an odd time for the sudden feeling of weight off his shoulders and the eerie feeling of contentment. He watched as streams of light crisscrossed through the air, some bearing grace, others bearing evil. And, of course, there was always one stream of light that bore the cold hand of death. When those lights streaked by, Severus would watch them, follow them and see good men and not-so-good men fall. And where was he?
"Professor," Said a voice that did not belong to the one who spoke it.
"Potter," He responded with something akin to softness in his voice. He turned to face Potter, but it was not Potter. This was not Potter. He was much too tall and far too manly, too old and worn to be Potter. This was Harry, pity Severus hadn't seen it before.
"I love you." Severus rolled his eyes, why did he insist on saying it so often? "You must tell me you do too, now. I don't want to...just say it so I know that you do."
"I cannot," Severus said, and the words were so familiar that he did not even realize he had said them.
"Why not?" The man before him crumpled, and Potter resurfaced, just a boy, a boy with a heart too big for his chest.
"I will not lie to you, Potter."
"Harry," He spat, "Don't call me by my father's face. And, god damn it, Severus! You're a murderer! You've killed and raped and plundered. You're a sinner if I've ever known one, why do you lie too? The truth will come out soon enough; I'd rather not have you killed just to see it!" Severus was quiet.
"You think I would die for you?" Severus asked, eyebrow arched, scrutinizing the boy.
"I know you would." Silence stretched between them.
"I love you, Harry."
"I know."
We spoke to ourselves when all was bathed in silence
We spoke to ourselves with the lies that lay beside us.
The war raged on above them, sun broke the horizon, passing words of comfort to the moon as she descended. The sun, bright in the air, angry with his children, cleared the clouds and beamed down with intensity. He touched every soldier with is scorching hand, all except for two. Severus and Harry stared at each other, locked in an unspoken battle. They each spoke to themselves, arguing with the hushed whispers of insanity in their mind. They told themselves lies, each trying to dismiss the other, trying not to feel the way they did. Their lies were no match, though, for death was on their doorstep and he demanded the truth.
We kissed on the mouths then, when the world was bathed in firelight.
We kissed on the mouths when nothing else felt right.
The sun burned down, its fire brought the soldiers down. The fire slowed them, all but for two who glowed in his light Severus was rarely every surprised, but the lips that suddenly caught his own were very surprising. It was not that they were unfamiliar, for they were very familiar. But he was surprised that this was the last thing he would feel before his death. This warm feeling, this rushing of blood and lust, this feeling of unadulterated love was the last thing that would touch him. They broke apart and the world moved too fast after that. Harry ran, ran far away to face a destiny too big for him. Severus ran too, ran with all certainty to his grave.
The Angel by my side, I caught myself crying
For fear that I had died, or worse, that I was dying.
The blur of life that interrupted Severus's death was mute to him. When the angel descended on him, green eyes and raven hair, Severus was shocked to find himself afraid and crying. He had never feared death. But now that he was dead, he was afraid, afraid of letting go of all the things he cherished in his life. He feared letting go of his potions, his sins, his Harry. The Angel smiled at him. His Harry. He felt less fearful then, if this was his death he could cope with it. But then fear filled his mind. He was not dead…he was dying. And the angel slipped away into darkness and Severus descended and he screamed and screamed and no one heard him, no one had ever heard him. Death laughed, because crying was not an option as he pried the man from the angel's hands, he took the man and all his truths and the angel was left with blood on his hands and tears in his eyes and lies in his heart.