Angels on the Moon
Lily/Severus
[Hogwarts House Painting Competition]
[Legendary Gods & Goddesses Challenge: Chandra - Write about someone/something beautiful.]
[Interesting Words Challenge: Verklempt - completely overcome with emotion]
[Book Thief Quote Competition: "They'd been standing like that for thirty seconds of forever."]
[Duct Tape Challenge: Camouflage - Write about Snape]
[Off The Block Competition: Breaststroke, Hard - Write about a muggleborn.]
[Disney Character Competition: Prince Ferdinand - write about Snape and Lily.]
Don't tell me if I'm dying,
'Cause I don't want to know.
In the side drawer of his desk is a creased photograph of a girl.
She's young, maybe nine years old, and she's got her arms wound around the neck of a black-haired boy, and both of them are grinning.
When he's particularly overcome with emotion (which is often, even after all this time), he pulls open the drawer and very gently takes out the photograph. The girl and the boy always look so excited to see him; they wave up at him, and shout their hellos, and dodge with little shrieks of laughter when his tears hit their glossy surface.
"You're sad again, Adult-Sev," the girl in the photograph accuses, crossing her arms over her chest. "What's wrong? Maybe we can help."
Snape shakes his head. "Don't worry about the future," he says, cupping them in his palms. "The future is going to be hard on the two of you."
"What's coming?" the boy asks. "Will we be okay?"
They ask this question every time, and he never answers it honestly. Because no, they won't be okay. One of them is going to die, and the other is going to be destroyed, and what good is it to fill their young heads with worry when they aren't going to have that future anyway? "You'll be fine," he whispers, and when Lily eyes him distrustfully he hurts all over, because that face is familiar, and he wishes she could still look at him that way, he wishes he had done it all differently, from the very day he'd met her. . . .
"Of course we'll be fine," Lily says. "We're a photograph. We're a tiny, thirty-second moment of forever. But what happens to you?"
He sighs. "Things go wrong."
"Like what?" Her eyes are wide. "Is it You-Know-Who?"
She doesn't know who You-Know-Who is. In her nine-year-old world, Voldemort has not yet risen to power. But she had once coaxed some details out of him, and now she brings up the Dark Lord on every occassion.
"No." It's me. I'm the one who betrays you. I'm the one who tells him about the prophecy. I'm the one who lets him target you, who doesn't even warn you. I'm the one who kills you. "It's not You-Know-Who."
"You're lying," the boy says. "I know what you look like when you lie. I'm you, remember?"
And Snape can't help but smile, because at least the boy is there to take care of Lily, at least they're together, even if it's only in the past. "It is You-Know-Who," he says. "But it's a lot of other things first."
"Like what?" Lily doesn't look scared. Lily doesn't get scared.
"The Sorting," Snape says. "You're a Gryffindor, I'm a Slytherin."
"We know about that one," young Severus says. "You already told us. Tell us the You-Know-Who part!"
"Does Sev die?" Lily asks immediately. "I'll bet you die." She pats her friend on the shoulder. "Sorry," she says with a sad little smile. "Bad luck."
Young Severus rolls his eyes. "I don't die," he says. "I'm talking to us right now."
"Oh." She looks up at Snape. "Right. Well, maybe your mum dies? Or my mum?"
"Nobody's mum."
"Maybe . . . Our friends?"
He closes his eyes. "Some friends, yes."
"Which ones?" she asks.
"You haven't met them yet."
"Tell me their names anyway."
She's burning with a morbid curiosity, he can see it in her eyes (Merlin, those eyes), and he's weak, because even after all this time he can't deny her anything.
"Marlene. Sirius. James."
"They sound nice," Lily says. "It's a shame they died. Were we close friends?"
Yes. "No."
"Well that's alright, then."
"There's something more," young Severus says, squinting up at Snape. "Something else."
Snape closes his eyes. "Don't worry about the future," he says to the photograph.
"Someone else dies! Tell us who!"
"Please don't make me," he whispers, and his hands are shaking.
"Is it me?" Lily asks quietly.
Snape doesn't answer.
"It is you!" young Severus says. "Ha! You're going to die! Bad luck," he adds in a bad impression of her, but she doesn't look at him.
"Severus? Am I the one who dies? Am I the reason you're so sad?"
"Don't make me," Snape whispers again, and there are tears falling from his eyes again, one drop at a time, like a leaky faucet trying its hardest to close itself off.
"Don't tell me, then," she says gently. "Don't tell me if I die. I don't want to know."
"I do," complains young Sev under his breath.
"I'll be okay, Sev," Lily says with a brave smile. "Remember? I'm just a photograph. I'm not even part of your future."
And it's that, more than anything, that breaks him.
"I have to go," Snape says suddenly, dropping the photo back in his drawer and slamming it shut. His heart is pounding in his ears, making him dizzy, making him see spots - green spots - like her eyes -
With a shuddery gasp, he flicks his wand and lights the desk on fire.
He sinks down to his knees in the corner of his office and stares at the blaze until it's dwindled down to nothing but ash.
And when it's over, he doesn't even care that he's killed her.
(Because it's not like this is the first time.)