The blue clouds cover the skies of Corksworth as though they don't believe the world is tumbling down around it. Only with each step, the doom follows them forwards. Forth and forth, the house comes closer into view. From the tips of the upper floor, the tiles peel down, shingle by shingle. The vines untangle and wilt from the tops of the whitewashed walls.
Snape and Hermione are running. Now every second is worth a whole moment in time. Every step could be the last. They run as the world crumbles down before them.
The cottage doors are still closed. An illusion. A true illusion, but so real and tangible. Both can feel how real it is. And it is. Nothing about the home seems fake, starting from the squared hedges surrounding it to the white fence now glowering a shade of blue from the sunlight to the panelled windows where the face of a girl blinks in the dark.
She leans closer, probably thinking it is her mother and father here. That gleeful smile on her face, but one of disbelief as well. And Snape grabs Hermione's hand.
"It isn't her."
Three words hold so much unheard meaning.
"It's Lily, it's your Lily, you remember?" And the look on Snape's face, one of strain showed he did not. He could not remember the woman he had loved, whom he befriended most 50 years before. And if he could not remember the woman he left his life for, who could argue with him.
"But then…it's Rose?"
He didn't listen, but she already understood. The little girl she had lost eight years prior was not Lily, it was her own daughter. And Severus was running towards the doorsteps, forgetting it wasn't her. Or perhaps it didn't matter. He banged on the door with such vigour, she disappeared from the window with a scream.
"You're scaring her! She doesn't know who you are."
"She will die if we don't take her. Convince her!"
"Lily, Lily…Rose….please open the door my girl. We are here."
Behind the door, no sound came. Hermione opened the little mailslot.
"Lily please, please we need to leave. I will buy you those lollies Mrs. Hestings gives you for watering her flowers. Just please come with us. Please."
A small voice whimpered from behind the door.
"The house isn't going to make it, we need to leave now Hermione."
"No, give me a few more moments. Lily…I know you're scared. And I wish your parents were here, but we might find them if you come. Is it about Petty? Sev ?"
The door was locked but she quickly charms it open. The girl hid under the table of the dining room. Wallpaper was peeling around and the blue flowers fell on the ground. The shelves shook a terrible wave and the books splattered open on the floor with a thud.
She approaches the girl, her hand extended and she is too still to move. She looks into the blue eyes. Blue like her daughter's would have been. And she reaches forwards and firmly grasps the little freckled hand. The girl screams as a vase breaks in the distance. One quick yank and the girl is following her out towards the door.
Snape stands before them, hands shaking as he stops another cupboard from crushing the two. And in two steps, the horrible thud covers the floor.
"Harry, HARRY !" she screams, yanking away from Hermione, but she holds her too firmly. Now Snape has the girl's other hand. He lifts her by the waist and drapes her over the shoulder, running through the blades of grass.
"Im so sorry Lily."
"HARRY , HARRY .." she screams. Her face now red with rage as her toad is nowhere in sight. Probably crushed in the rubble.
"Harry ….Harry …."
Her screams are heard long after the cottage crumbles down to the ground. She kicks Snape furiously, he winces at the pain in his stomach from the powerful heels. Her hands grab the locks of black hair and pull them from the head as she yells the name of her toad. The tears stream down her freckled cheeks and her rosy eyes. She clings onto his back, biting the edge of his shirt and he winces but doesn't scold her.
They run through the grass which wrinkles at their passing. The skies begin to grey and darken and now are sh-like orange. They run back to the market. The bedlams are now melting. Physically melting into puddles of rotting fruits. Their eyes like seeds tears down their faces.
"Beware little Hermione, Beware" they warm as their own fleshy hands grow as strands of papaya do.
They flesh out and rip in pinkish threads from the bone and drip to the floor. Now the slices of fresh fruit in their hands don't seem so appetizing. They screech in pain as their mouths emit a sour smell like they have eaten nothing but sugar all their life. They cough and cough up phlegm and she realizes it is juice. The sights nauseate her and she runs forward. Snape still holds the girl in his arms, her eyes open and glaring at the sight before her.
"Don't look. Close your eyes." He smashes her head into his shoulder, enough to shield her eyes. But she has already seen much. They continue running as the world melts behind them. Hermione doesn't dare look back at the bedlams' fate. She only pushes out the sounds of their screaming.
Off they run into the depths of the stalls, the orange paths beneath their feet. And Hermione turns her head to Snape as he walks with the little girl clasped tight in his embrace. His lanky arms now tensed with much strength. Her saviour. He grasps her safely, and the choirs with a single woman sing her song as he mounts up the hill towards the temple. Focused as he was. She had never seen him quite so focused. And at that moment, there is no one else she'd rather have at her arm, with her babe in his hand. With her Rose, And it didn't matter if she was her daughter. He saved her. He saved her and now he carried her forth like the coming of the Lord to that temple before him.
The white walls ahead flashed in the light of the setting sun. Their ridges lining up towards the sky and meeting in curled columns. They mounted and ran through its path. As she ran, she noticed the figures of the Saints glaring down at her from the ceiling.
"Beware little Hermione, Beware."
Their mouths curl in horror as their eyes melted from their sockets. And she could not look away although Snape grabs her other hand and drags her past. Now their limbs seemed to falter to the floors as their reached the other end. The beach ahead.
The sands lay in a carpet before them. It shuffles beneath their feet as they run to the shore. Now they are at that very place and Hermione grits her teeth. That very place. Now it all seems clear.
It's as if her father is resting on that little lawn chair up ahead and she runs into the sea. She is but six years old, diving into the salty waves. And her father rests on the shore. His skin already very dark, but he continues sitting beneath every nearing cloud. And as she comes closer, she anticipates he is there. And there he sits.
She is frightened and grabs Snape's spare hand.
"I won't." She looks at her father then back at Snape. "I won't go."
Snape stands tall, the girl now gripping his neck. His breath slowing from the running, but not letting her to the ground. She clings to him and when he tries to lower her, she whimpers and her raises her back up. She knows she needs to swim the length, until the other shore. But she cannot bring herself to do it. And the columns crumble behind her. Strip by strip.
He walks with her to the shoreline. Every step feels deep inside her chest. The sand softly whispers beneath her feet.
"Beware little Hermione, Beware."
She furrows her brows at the distance. It appears so far from reach. But the only way back home. Snape's locks intertwine with the girl's as the breeze caresses its final goodbye. A Pang in Hermione's chest reminds her it is also her own.
At the edge of the lake, a small rowboat. Enough room for three. Three spots in the wooden carcass. He seats the little girl inside. She clings to him and he whispers something in her ear as she nods her head. He plants a gentle kiss on her head and slowly takes her arms off his neck. The violins in the distance wince. The trumpets blow. The blue eyes flush with the depths.
"Severus." The one words beckoning him to stay. He backs her into the boat, still holding her shoulders. She repeats his name quieter and the tears form in her eyes. A small pair of hands grasp her leg.
He trails his hands down to her elbows, guiding them with his fingers. His lashes touch her cheek.
"Sev."
They grasp her tight and pull her close. The warmth of his breath melding into her own. And the tones trickle higher and higher and the waves beat against the edges of the wood. And the soft pillows, she pulls them in as her arms grip his for the last time.
"Look forward, Hermione."
And they continue kissing as he seats her into the boat, the girl now holding her neck. He kisses her lips, her cheek, her neck, and the place her hairline meets the lobe of her ear. His breath staggered. He pushes the boat forward. The water creeping up his pant leg. He kisses her until it reaches his waist and he can no longer feel the deep end.
"Take care of Rose."
She mouths his name through her lips. Silently, like a prayer. He turns the boat and pushes it into the distance. And she cups her hand over her mouth, the other over the girl's eyes. And her father fades from sight. And so does Snape. She shuts her eyes. The sting of the salty tears and the air muffle her gasped breaths. She pulls in the redhead.
The metal cracks behind her. Unravelling slowly. She casts a silent protection spell and they sail through the grey into the Unknown.