It was chilly. The wind whisked over her, sending shivers down her spine. There was a strange copper taste in her mouth. She slowly opened her eyes and found herself staring up into the black night sky. This didn't feel right. She was supposed to be anywhere else, but not here again. When she tried to sit up, a sharp pain ripped through her body that let her eyes tear up. Her sides were aching when she inhaled and even more so when she moved. Where was she? What had happened? She touched her fingers to her lips and flinched when they made contact with her skin. When she held them in front of her face and looked at them in wonder, her fingertips were covered with a dark and sticky substance that was glistening in the twilight – blood.
One more look at her surroundings verified the fear that had been rising inside of her even before she had opened her eyes. She was back there again. Back in this place that was her worst nightmare. This was where they had captured her and beaten her up. Where they had mocked her and told her what they had done to her aunt. Disgustedly she spit out the blood that had been gathering in her mouth. She remembered. She had bitten her tongue earlier on, when she had tried to suppress her screams.
The feeling that she had to be somewhere else slowly dawned on her. She grew more agitated by the minute. There was something she was supposed to do. It was vital that she remembered what exactly it was in the next couple of minutes or it would be too late. There was one thing she knew for sure and that was that she had to leave now.
"Get to your feet. Find your wand. Leave," she ordered herself mentally. She looked around frantically trying to find it. There it was lying innocently next to the extinguished campfire. Fire. Crackling fire. Warmth. Realization washed over her and it almost choked her. Panicked, she crawled over to the place where her wand was lying in the dust. Her heart beat so fast it threatened to break her chest. Her fingers closed tightly around her wand, so tightly in fact, her knuckles turned white.
She would have to get to her feet. Every movement was torture to her. Some of her ribs where probably broken. Yes, she remembered they had been…they were. She was finally standing; sweat was trickling down her back. The pain was still searing through her body, but she ignored it. She had to find him. She was frantic.
If she remembered correctly this was the night Voldemort would die. This was the night the Death Eaters had found her and tortured her. This was the night she only survived because they were called to the Dark Lords side for the final battle. This was the night Severus Snape would face death.
She didn't take the time to wonder whether she was too weak to Apparate or not. She just bit her teeth and did it, finding herself somewhere near Hogsmeade seconds later. Mustering every once of willpower she had, she told her feet to start walking. For once she was thankful that her 'prying and inquisitive nature', as Severus had so neatly put it, had left her with enough information about the happenings of that fateful night to know where she was headed. Hopefully her memory could be trusted in this point, because now, who knew what she could believe or not? What was real and what wasn't?
Every step was agonizing, but she didn't care. The gravel was crunching underneath the soles of her shoes as she walked. The sound was a regular rhythm she clung to, hoping it would keep her sane and give her the strength to keep walking. "Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream," it echoed inside her head ironically every step she took.
The thought drove her incredibly angry, which luckily provided her with enough steam to keep going. What was this? Hell? A cruel joke of fate? She hated magic. She hated what it could do. What it was capable of. Was this some kind of foul spell designed to mock her and foolishly let her believe in happy endings? It had made her think there was someone for her, someone who loved her and then…then it turned out to be just a cruel joke. Just an illusion, some bloody mind game. She couldn't accept that. She didn't want to believe that.
The path was winding downhill in front of her. The landscape looked deceptively tranquil and innocent, but she wasn't to be fooled by appearances anymore. She knew better now. Somewhere below her she could make out the Shrieking Shack. There was a dark cloaked figure moving rapidly towards the decrepit building. She froze, briefly debating with herself whether it would be wise to make her presence known. Maybe it wasn't him or maybe it was someone else and she was about to get herself killed, because she foolishly believed in dreams and love and what not. To what conclusion she came, was ultimately inconsequential. The stranger had already spotted her and was moving towards her rapidly.
Frantically her eyes wandered here and there, looking for a place to hide. Maybe it was best if she got out of view. Until she realised whether this was friend or foe, it would probably be wise not to attract anymore attention. Her options were the brambles to her right or the huge rock to her left. She quickly decided for the latter, because that would maybe provide her with enough space to move around if it came to a fight.
Suddenly she felt a pair of eyes bore into her. She turned around. The figure was standing there motionlessly, watching her. Though he was only a few metres away she couldn't see his face. It was concealed by the hood of his cloak. Slender hands reached out to pull it back. Seeing his face and together with the realization that it had not all been a feverish dream, knocked all the air out of her lungs. She felt like she was choking, unable to get out a word.
He took a few hesitant steps closer, recognition clearly written on his face as well as worry. This was not how he remembered her. Her clothes were dirty, the sleeves of her shirt torn. It was dotted with dried blood. It had dribbled on the fabric. Her lip was split and she was holding her left side with her hand. The expression of her eyes could best be described as haunted. She was like a wild animal that had been cornered by a predator. So anxious, so fragile and yet ready to fight. Merlin, what had happened to her?
"Abby." Her name rolled of his tongue as if he had said it a thousand times, but now knew better. He knew it was the first time he ever said it.
She blinked at him as if ripped out of a trance. "Severus." She took in his dark clothes- the clothes of a Death Eater- that made her shrink back instinctively. Whoever wore them brought pain and death. He brought pain and death. No, no, that wasn't right. She knew him, what kind of man he was. This was what he was capable of at his worst, but she had also seen his best, the side of him he concealed from the rest of the world, because he thought it would make him vulnerable. She remembered the way his fingers would tenderly trace her features when they lay in bed together, the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn't watching. Those memories were almost too much to bear at a moment like that, especially since they shouldn't have been there in the first place. It felt like it had all really happened, although she knew for a fact now that it had only happened in her imagination.
"How is this possible?"
"I don't know," he admitted. His words let her feel even more helpless.
Her mind desperately tried to come up with an explanation for all of this. "Okay, I know what is happening," she whispered to herself. "This isn't real. It isn't. We are not here. We are safe. At home. In my bed. This is not real. I need to wake up. I need to wake up now." She looked at him, tears shining in her eyes. She already knew the truth, but she wasn't ready to acknowledge it yet. "I know because you said it yourself. It's just a dream. I can wake up if I want to. It'll happen any minute now, you see."
"This is not a dream," he said slowly, taking another cautious step towards her.
"Oh, as if you'd know," she said vigorously shaking her head.
"Believe me. I do."
"Bollocks! Someone must be fucking with our heads. This isn't real!" Her fingers were racking her already messy hair.
"It is," he insisted, taking one more step towards her. If he reached out his hand now he could touch her, but he hesitated. He wasn't sure she would let him. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably. Her eyes were wide with fear, begging him to do something to make it right, to make it all go away. To him she had always been strong. Maybe even stronger than him. Seeing her like this hurt him. It hurt him more than any torture the Dark Lord could have designed for him. He couldn't take it much longer.
He took her trembling hands in his. They were covered in dirt. Her skin was feeling rough underneath his fingertips, not like he remembered it. He expected her to draw back her hands any second now, but she didn't. She just stood there, looking at him with wide, terrified eyes.
"It's really you." Her voice was barely above a whisper, fragile like a leaf floating on air.
"Yes," he said softly.
She took one unsteady step towards him, her eyes roaming over his face nervously, then without a warning she reached out her arms to embrace him. She was holding onto him for dear life, even though her broken rips were protesting violently.
His familiar scent was comforting her and letting her doubt her sanity at the same time. No, this wasn't familiar, she mentally berated herself. This was new. She was neither supposed to know how what he smelt like nor what it felt like to be kissed by him. She wasn't even supposed to know his name or face for crying out loud.
The thought alone was maddening and his physical proximity was threatening to send her over the edge and reduce her to mad giggles. She slowly let go of him, suddenly not able anymore to support standing this close this close to him.
"Is it true? Is it true we've never actually met? It all happened in our minds?" She looked at him timidly, secretly wishing that he would say no.
"I'm afraid so. But it still happened. The fact that only it did in our minds, doesn't make it any less real, though." His eyes were intently watching her face. There was a hint of timidity in them. Was he afraid she didn't want this to be real?
At least he was not trying to push her away this time, like he usually did. This realization came out as a surprise to her, but she could not dwell on it to long. Her thoughts were too disconnected, too frazzled to focus on anything for too long.
"Then what the hell is going on? Who did this?" Her eyes flashed at him in the twilight. He knew her anger wasn't directed at him in particular, because part of him felt angry as well. Nothing about this situation seemed to be fair.
"Believe me, I have no idea either."
"Is it really…" She hesitated, obviously having some trouble wrapping her mind around what was happening and he really couldn't blame her for that, because he had some trouble believing it himself, "Is it really that day?"
"I'm afraid so," he was sounding more detached than he actually felt. His thoughts were chaotic, constantly circling around one question. How will we both make it through this unscathed?
"How much do you remember?" Abby finally enquired hesitantly.
"Everything," he answered. "The hospital, your aunt…," for a moment he looked almost embarrassed, "last night."
"Yes…," Abby said slowly. "Yes, I remember too. It's still everything there," she briefly tapped her temple with a shy smile. "But it obviously wasn't real…I mean not in a bodily sense."
"Yes."
"But this…this here is?!"
"Yes."
"Fuck!"
"I heartily agree."
She tried a smile, but it quickly died on her face, when her hurt lip made itself noticed. The pain set her back on track, sharpened her senses. "It's going to happen then…It's going to happen today, you're going to…"
"Die. Yes," he finished the sentence for her.
"Yes." Her voice was quivering ever so slightly, when she spoke again. "But it we can still change things. You don't have to face him. We could go somewhere safe where he won't be able to hurt you. At least there's something about this situation that isn't completely screwed up…"
He looked at her in confusion.
She hurried to explain what she meant. "Don't you see? You don't have to go down there. We can leave now. Everything will be fine." Thanks to her agitation she was talking very fast. The fire in her eyes was back, she was hoping again. The more it hurt him to crush her hopes with his next sentence.
"No," he shook his head sadly, "it has to happen exactly the way it is supposed to."
"What do you mean? Why?!"
He stayed silent, leaving her to figure it out by herself. There was no way he would have been able to convincingly explain himself. Every fibre of his body screamed at him not to do this. When he looked at her face, let his eyes trace her features that were so familiar to him, temptation threatened to overwhelm him. His instinct told him to take her and run away with her. They would hide somewhere safe, where no one would be able to find them. Everything would be okay. They would have all the time in the world to get to know each other again, find out whether reality actually compared to the illusion.
His thoughts had already drifted of to make escape plans, dream up a future for the both of them, when her words brutally ripped him out of his reverie. "You want to sacrifice yourself, don't you? That's what you want, isn't it? You want to let him kill you, so that the Potter kid can go and save the day." Her words alone were agonizing to him, because deep down he knew them to be true, but the way she looked at him, her disappointment and anger, was even worse to take.
"No, that's not what I want. What I want is to stay here with you, but…but this has to be done. Don't you see?" He tried to reason with her, but also partly with himself. "This is what we talked about. I can't let my fear get in the way this time. If I don't go down there, the Dark Lord will win. I can't believe I'm saying that but if Potter will die and our only hope will die with him."
"Are you barking mad?! Didn't you hear me the first time around?! He's going to kill you!"
"Yes."
"But what about us? Doesn't this mean anything to you? How can you just walk away from us, from what we have?" She was too desperate to cry, too desperate to feel anything besides the sudden numbness in her chest. The place where her heart was once, was now a vacuum, a black hole, sucking her feelings in, leaving nothing but a empty shell.
For once in his life Severus Snape seemed to have run out of words to say. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times, but no words came from it.
Tears started welling up in her eyes, her vision blurred. She angrily wiped at them with the back of her hand, smearing dirt all over her face in the process. Then, when she already had given up hope entirely, he finally said something.
"I love you."
His words were sincere and soft spoken. One look in his face sufficed to know that he was telling the truth, but right now those words were the last thing she wanted to hear. They were worth nothing if he turned around the next second to walk towards certain death. She hated him for saying it now that she was about to lose him.
"You don't. If you did, you wouldn't go."
"I do, but I have to do this," he insisted again, sounding almost desperate.
"No."
"Abby…"
"No, don't you dare say another word!"
"Abby, I probably have told countless lies in my life, but this isn't one. I really do love you."
She looked at him, her bottom lip trembling, her eyes swimming with tears. He had never told her he loved her, he probably only did now, because he was facing certain death. She knew that his love for her would not keep him from turning around and walking away from her to pull off his stupid self-sacrificing hero stunt. All she felt right now was red hot anger. It was clouding her mind, permeating every fibre of her body, even taking possession of her vocal chords.
"I hate you," she spat out contemptuously.
Her harsh words hit him like a whip lash. He always expected the worst of people and situation in general and even though part of him had been prepared for this reaction, experiencing it first hand was something entirely different. It had been rather selfish of him to tell her in the first place. But he needed her to know before he left. He didn't want to die without having told her. His life was a series of missed out opportunities anyways, it was not necessary to add one more right before the end.
He understood her, understood that his words were nothing but mockery to her, especially now. This was not her talking, but her anger. Put in her place, he probably wouldn't have reacted differently, so he didn't hold it against her. He couldn't afford to hold grudges anyway. Not now. He needed to hold onto something or else his resolution would waver.
"Abby, I have to go." She could hear the pain in his voice, his regret to leave her without being able to fix this situation.
He momentarily closed his eyes, trying to gather his strength. But how on earth was he ever to find enough strength to walk away from her, when he wanted to do nothing but stay? He looked at her one last time, trying to memorize every detail of her face. Then, though it broke him his heart, he turned and started walking.
She instantly regretted her reaction right the second he took his first step away from her. After a brief moment of hesitation, her feet set into motion as if by their own accord. Then she suddenly was there next to him, holding him back by the sleeve of his coat. He stared at her in wonder, not able to understand what was happening.
"Severus, wait! Please, forgive me…I didn't mean what I said. I just…This is so hard….." He took her in his arms and kissed her, before she could continue her stammered apologies.
"I love you. I love you. I love you," Abby whispered over and over again after he had pulled back. He smiled sadly, but stayed silent.
"I know why you're doing this. We talk about this before. I understand," she let out a raucous laugh. "No, who am I kidding? Actually I don't. I can't, I won't, I will never understand. But…I love you. And I can't let you go like this." She was agitated and slightly out of breath. Her nervous babbling stood in stark contrast to his quiet resolve. "There must be something I can do. Some way I could help you. After Nagini…after Nagini has bitten you, there must be something…a potion, a spell, something we can do to stop the poison from spreading…Buy us enough time before I can apparate us both to St. Mungo's…"
"There isn't," he said gently.
"I have to do this on my own." Severus looked down in her face, her hands in his. His eyes were gentle, but infinitely sad. "I need you to stay out of this."
He kissed her all too conscious that this was to be the last time, then stepped back. His fingers slowly slipping out of her grasp
Her face fell. With his last words he had scattered their only hope. Unshed tears were threatening to choke her but she bravely swallowed them down. She was not going to make this even harder for him. Though she did in no way approve of his decision, she could understand the reasons for his actions. He felt that if he didn't do everything in his power to right the wrongs he had done, he would never deserve forgiveness or love. In short he would never deserve her. So this was all in all a rather screwed up lose-lose situation. There was no way she could convince him not to do this, she knew as much. And though this was one of the reason she loved him, she would also always resent him for this decision.
tbc
