Chapter 4 – The Light Before The Dark

The weekend came, bringing with it a beautiful autumn morning. Instead of marking the papers that had begun to teeter precariously on the corner of his desk, Snape strolled alone near the Forest, contemplating all he had learned from Dumbledore a few days earlier. The breeze blew gently, causing his hair to dance weightlessly about his face.

There were several students on the grounds that day, though none paid him much mind. He kept as far from the random clusters of students as he could manage.

He had been back to visit Lily in the hospital. Though she had woken up from the sleep potion administered by Madam Pomfrey, he did not go back during the day. Only when she had fallen asleep for the night had he returned, only briefly, in case she sensed him there and woke up. As he had specified, Madam Pomfrey had been applying the Lavendulus Potion to her scars five times daily, and the scarring had been reduced significantly.

Of that he was grateful. Not that such marks could ever deter him from loving her or alter her innate beauty, but the fact that Voldemort's marks could be erased had a powerful pull over him.

He peered up at the hospital wing's windows from his spot on the lawn. He wondered if she was awake yet. He wondered if she knew what had happened and why she was there, if she had begun asking questions to Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore and if they had offered her any answers.

His heart quickened pace as he thought of going up to visit her. How would she react to seeing him? What would he say after all this time? If she turned away from him like she had on their fifth year, how could he cope with still being hated by her for something he sincerely regretted?

He wrestled with himself and his conflicting emotions for several minutes, but in the end, his desire to see her and speak to her overpowered anything in opposition to it.

Resolutely, he stepped into the cool shade of the castle and set off to the hospital wing.

--

He didn't hurry as he walked. Given the nice weather, the halls were virtually deserted, causing his footsteps to echo off the stone walls. After several minutes of walking up staircases, around corners, and down long empty corridors, the large hospital wing doors came into view.

His body reacted immediately to the possibilities that were found only steps away. A reunion, of sorts, that he had been wanting for so long. He felt suddenly warm and absently fumbled with the collar of his cloak. His cheeks were flushed, and he realized, for the first time, that he was nervous.

He pushed open the large doors, surveying the scene. A first year was lying asleep in a bed in a far corner. Snape recognized him as the boy who had fallen off his broom during his first flying lesson. His arm was in a sling. Madam Pomfrey was tending to him, and Snape's gaze immediately swiveled to Lily, who was lying beneath a beam of autumn sunlight with her eyes closed.

Pomfrey looked up from her duties and smiled at Snape.

'Good morning, Professor,' she said quietly as not to wake the small boy.

'Good morning,' he replied.

Snape did not move, and observed Lily from a distance. Madam Pomfrey finished up what she was doing and returned to her office. Snape followed her.

'How is she coping?' Snape asked.

'She's doing better,' she said solemnly, as she replaced some bottles on a shelf and washed her hands. 'In terrible pain, though. Complains of headaches. And even though her lacerations have healed almost completely, she still says they burn.'

Snape nodded. Of course they still burn, he thought bitterly, hating himself for giving Voldemort knowledge of the spell. 'Has she mentioned anything about…?' Snape's voice trailed off.

'Not to me,' she said, knowing exactly what he meant. 'She only complains about the pain and then falls back asleep. Dumbledore has spoken with her only briefly, but I think the topic was still about the pain.'

Snape nodded.

'I don't think she's asleep now. I think she's just resting. You can try and talk to her, but I must advise you not to lead her into the subject of her family,' Madam Pomfrey cautioned.

'Of course,' said Snape, who had no intention of causing her unwarranted grief.

He left the office and made his way to Lily' bedside. The chair he had conjured earlier that week was still there, and he sat down. She appeared well rested, and he couldn't help but notice how she glowed in the sunlight. Her red hair sparkled like red fire flecked with streams of gold. He smiled in spite of himself.

Snape sat in the chair for nearly an hour, losing himself in the sweeter memories they had shared as children and teenagers. He doubted she had ever known the depth to which his feelings flowed for her. He remembered how his happiest moments had been spent in her presence, simply talking about anything and everything. He remembered being at her house in the summer between their third and fourth year, which had been by far the best week of his life. Her laughter was like a balm to his otherwise bleak existence.

He sat there and wondered if she would ever laugh like that again when she woke up and realized what had happened to her.

He closed his eyes and lowered his head. Before long, his train of thought was interrupted by the sound of his name struggling to escape her lips.

'Severus,' she breathed. It seemed to take every ounce of her strength to speak.

His head shot up and his eyes flew open. She stared back at him through squinted eyes. He leaned forward, poised on the verge of so many words that he was rendered speechless.

'Is that you?' she asked.

'Yes, Lily, it's me,' he answered.

She said nothing else, only continued to look at him, blinking in slow motion every few seconds. Her expression betrayed no hint of what she was feeling. He only returned her gaze, hoping that, at the very least, she wasn't disgusted by his presence.

She went to move her arms and winced sharply before abandoning the attempt. 'It hurts,' she said with a shaky voice.

Snape nodded, a surge of grief threatening to overtake him. 'I know it does.'

She took several deep breaths before speaking again.

'Madam Pomfrey said you… you were here … that you helped me…'

'Shhh, Lily, don't speak,' he said. It's okay.'

'Is… is it true? You were here?' she asked again, her green eyes piercing his.

How persistent she could be, Snape thought. He nodded.

She smiled weakly and closed her eyes against the sunlight.

There was silence for several moments. Snape watched her unmoving figure and wondered when she was going to pose the questions he did not want to answer.

'I'm thirsty,' she said.

Drawing his wand, conjuring a goblet and filling it with water and adding a straw, he guided it between her parched lips and she drank.

She finished, and Snape placed the empty glass on the side table. Lily stared at the ceiling for several moments. Snape watched her intently, wondering what thoughts lived behind her eyes, what emotions existed behind her silence.

She turned back to Snape, her eyes filled with the shadows of curiosity, and as she was about to speak, Snape heard a sound behind him.

Turning around, he saw Dumbledore standing in the doorway. Snape immediately grew hot, wondering just how much of his exchange with Lily he had witnessed.

Dumbledore smiled and strode to where Snape sat.

'Good morning, Severus, I was just dropping in to check on Lily's progress,' he explained, having realized he had interrupted a private moment. 'How are you feeling, my dear?'

Lily winced again. 'It hurts to move, and my head…' she said, her voice trailing off.

Dumbledore nodded. 'Rest, my dear, and let Madam Pomfrey take care of you.'

She reached a weak hand out to Dumbledore, who took it and squeezed it as a sign of his compassion. Within moments, she had slipped into sleep again.

Dumbledore placed her hand back by her side. He indicated that he was leaving and that Snape was to come with him.

Once into the hall, he and Dumbledore were free to speak.

'How much did you see?' Snape asked, wondering if he really wanted to know the answer.

'Are you ashamed of your feelings, Severus?'

'No, of course not,' he replied. 'I just want to know.'

'I was there a few minutes before Lily woke up.'

'So, basically, you saw everything.'

'Yes, I guess that's accurate,' said Dumbledore.

Snape had a distinct feeling that Dumbledore was enjoying himself.

'I understand perfectly well that you let a lot of the walls fall down in her presence. Love is a wonderful thing, and can make people do extraordinary things. You are not weak.'

Snape didn't know what to make of this, so he chose another course.

'She knew that I had been there,' Snape said.

Dumbledore nodded. 'Yes, Poppy and I both felt it was a good idea to tell her that you had a hand in her recovery.'

'She seems to have her faculties,' said Snape. 'But why isn't she asking about Potter and her son?'

Dumbledore did not immediately respond. He seemed to be considering his response carefully.

Snape and Dumbledore headed into the Great Hall and took their spots at the Head Table. Sunlight streamed thought the high-mullioned windows. They were early for lunch, as no one else had arrived yet, and it afforded them a few moments to talk.

'Poppy and I have discussed that, and based on our collective opinions, it seems Lily is suffering from amnesia. Poppy examined her, and she has a terrible bruise on her head that is, thankfully, hidden by her hair. She must have sustained a blow at some point that has clouded her recollection of the night's events. But I do not believe that it will last. At some point, something will trigger her memories and bring them back.'

Snape sat in silence, considering what had been said.

'Do you feel that this is a good thing?' asked Snape.

Dumbledore shrugged. 'Yes and no. Yes, in that her emotions will not impede her physical recovery. She can regain her health in peace. No, in that it does James and Harry a disservice. But like I said, it is temporary.'

'She remembers who I am,' Snape said, more to himself than to Dumbledore.

'Yes, she remembers you. And she didn't seem upset by your presence.'

Snape smiled.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. 'It seems that, according to Madam Pomfrey, that when she learned that you had been there and saw to her injuries, Lily cried.'

Snape felt a swooping feeling in his stomach. Had she really cried? Was this crying in a positive sense, or something else? For the time being, he chose to believe the former. 'I was hoping that she wouldn't –'

Snape was cut off by a painful burning sensation in his left forearm. The joy and warmth he had been filled with only seconds before had vanished to be replaced with a cold, dead, sickening, feeling. He glanced wide-eyed to Dumbledore, who looked deeply unnerved, and without a word, Snape ran from the Hall, crossed the grounds, and ran down the winding driveway until he was beyond the gate. He turned on the spot, his heart pounding, and Disapparated.