A/N: Hello there, lovely readers! I present to you a story for the HP Fandom that I never thought I would write, but this story is written primarily for a friend who wanted to see what I could do with a Snape/OC Pairing, let alone publish it, but here I am, spending my free time writing a Snape/OC…thing, and having some fun with it in the meantime, I suppose.

So, I thought, perhaps, why not share it? It's been a bit since I posted something HP-related for the fandom, let alone something that's not Lupin/Tonks, as my interests are shifting to other characters in the HP universe that I want to write stories for, though Remadora will always be my OTP.

I've taken to using Adam Driver as a model for Severus in this fic, since Snape in the books was admittedly much younger and in his late 30s in the books, than Alan Rickman, though I do love the man. That said, I think Driver would make an excellent young Snape & I hope how you like how I've modeled him. I've tried my hardest to keep Severus very much in character throughout this fic, all the while hoping to explore somewhat of a softer side, as much as I can. Apologies for the length of this first chapter as it's rather short, but it's more of a prologue of sorts and things will pick up again in the next segment.

SEVERUS had thought death should have been much less painful than…whatever this was. But then again, he was sure he was far away from any sweet, glorious Heaven there was. All at once, he was aware of the brutal and searing pains that tormented his body, specifically the area around his neck, where Nagini had bitten him repeatedly and had sunk her fangs into his neck, injecting him with her poisonous venom. It should have killed him, so how he was still alive was beyond his ability to comprehend. It was almost more than he could bear. His muscles attempted to writhe in agony as he fought to get up, to stand, to figure out what in the seven bloody hells was happening.

However, his broken and bleeding body refused to move, keeping him firmly pinned in place, lying there, waiting for something to happen. For the Aurors to come, for another teacher to venture in and find his seemingly lifeless body surrounded by a puddle of blood. But then, just as quickly as Severus wished he could succumb to the darkness that threatened to creep his way and take him under, the pain would return ten times worse.

Perhaps this was what Hell was supposed to feel like. Severus, deep down, knew that he deserved an eternity of torture for his role in the outcome of Harry Potter's life, for the deaths of sweet, lovely Lily.

He could abide this better than the remorse he had felt when he'd betrayed her. This was surely more agreeable than the hurt that showed on her face the fateful night their friendship had ended.

The hurt that burgeoned in Lily Evan's eyes as she had tearfully declared an end to their friendship.

Even now, Severus thought he could seem them, her familiar catlike eyes of a piercing forest green hue, trying to peer into his pupils. Not filled with tears and anguished like the last time the two of them had spoken just outside the Gryffindor Common Room, but shimmering, bright, happy, when they were friends.

This was torture for the former Hogwarts Headmaster and Potions Master.

Severus thought it admittedly strange that it was not Voldemort who should hover in his thoughts as he lay here bleeding to death. He was, after all, the one to whom he had pledged his entire life. The one for whom he had betrayed perhaps his only friend. He wondered that the Dark Lord was not with him now, in this encroaching darkness. It would have been fitting, he thought bitterly to himself.

What better torture than spending an eternity in hell with the one wizard for whom he had lost everything?

No. No, that was not quite the truth though, was it? Severus knew he had given it up his honor. His future, a chance for a decent life, at love, with Lily, if things had been different. All of it, gone to shit because of a single choice. He'd thrown all of it away. Now, the only thing he wished for was to possess the ability to turn back time enough to take that night back, to have a chance to win Lily's affections, to make Evans see the truth.

Lily had tried, Merlin blesses her soul, she had. She had tried to make him believe that he was better than the monster his parents had created, that the Dark Lord had shaped and molded to perfection until he had need of him. She had seen some small spark in him that he did not even know existed, and had held up the mirror to his face, trying to make him realize it as well. How it burned his shielded eyes, and he'd run from it at first, to the Dark Lord, and had informed his master of the prophecy. However, he'd felt Lily's pull on him even then.

But she had distanced herself, and he had managed to save Lily even from himself.

All that he saw as he peered into the promise of his ultimate demise was lovely Lily's loving face. He did not care of the poison spreading through his system, slow-enacting as it was, took his life. Severus hoped it would. Without Lily, he had nothing left.

So, he wallowed in his misery, alone in the eternal darkness that was the otherwise deserted boathouse, and longed for his old friend. It was Lily Evan's memory that would be Severus's comfort forever, and still, Snape counted himself a fortunate man and wizard. He would not need to give her up again.

Severus kept his eyes closed and so intently did he focus on the remembrance of her pale face that his mind's eye could almost magic her into existence, that her apparition would keep him company as he passed from this world and into hell, and whatever was waiting for him there.

Severus found himself surfacing from the darkness that had plagued him for the better part of at least thirty minutes since Potter and his friends had left the boathouse with his memories and perhaps now his testimony in hand. He'd slipped into unconscious a few times, only to resurface in a cold sweat, his thoughts flooded with thoughts of Lily Evans.

He wished he could float here, alone with his friend, savoring every moment, as he had when they were children under the trees in the park near their neighborhoods. But it didn't stop. Severus continued to break free of the mire until it physically hurt him. His neck and wounds scattered throughout his body where Nagini had repeatedly bitten him during her attack burned, hurting him, searing worse than any dragon fire could ever flame.

Even getting the Dark Mark branded into his left forearm had not been so brutal as this pain that he felt now.

But the worst part was he could feel Lily leaving him, slipping through his fingers. Again.

He wanted nothing more than to scream, though all his throat could manage was a gurgle. He wanted to yell, to rant, from heartache, and from fear. What did he have left, if not the memory of his only friend, his love?

Suddenly, from nowhere, a blinding white burned itself into Severus's dry retinas.

It was dim, that tiny white phantom light, like the light of a candle, yet agonizing, nonetheless. If he squinted to try to see, briefly, he could see the tip of someone's wand, which told his reeling mind that someone was here.

This strange phantom light nearly blinded him as it felt as though everything weighed down upon him. The air shocked his lungs as he felt his throat being stitched up, his lungs gasping for the taste of the biting cold air. The force of what was happening snapped his eyes wide open.

The darkness that had been threatening to take him was now gone.

His chest heaved as his heart struggled to regain normal pacing of its beats as he stared numbly up at the ceiling of the boathouse. He tried to test his muscles, though every attempt sent white-hot explosions of pain throughout his muscles. He shivered, a cold sweat breaking out along his brow as he wondered what fresh hell was waiting for him now and could only wait in dread for his suffering to begin again anew.

Then, he heard a witch's voice, low, shy, and quiet, speaking to him.

"Sir? Professor Snape, sir, can you hear me? Blink if you can. My name is Dahlia, I'm a Healer from St. Mungo's."

Severus's mind groped for understanding as his eyes could not tolerate that light being thrust into his eyes and squeezed them shut, though he tried to blink.

But if this witch were here now, then what did that mean? Severus fought to open his eyes, however, the effort took what little strength left in him remaining in order to do it.

Nevertheless, he continued to try, though it felt as though something of an equal will was engaged in a duel with his body, conspiring to keep him lost and alone in the dark. But he carried on and he tried again.

He just had to try. He had to know what it all meant.

Finally, Severus's blood-filled eyes shot open, emerging the victor in the conflict his own body was waging against him, though his eyes' torture was met by the harrowing burning light of that ball of light that emanated from the tip of a witch's wand. Severus knew it was a woman from the slender cut of her shadowy silhouette.

Though her face and details of the rest of her features remained shrouded in shadow, rendering it difficult for him to make out anything of this witch, his supposed new savior.

His hoarse and burning throat tried to cry out against the light now shining into his eyes as he fought to raise his arms, hoping to shield his vision with his hands, and couldn't. His body was still motionless despite Severus giving it his absolute best effort to do so. He cursed himself through blood-slimmed and gritted teeth as he tried to sit up.

He had failed to protect the son of the only witch whom he had ever loved.

What would Lily think of him if she could see him now? Snape let himself go. He wished the darkness would come for him, that Death, the cloaked and shrouded cold figure would come for him and greet him like an old friend. Anything was better than to feel the weight of his crushing failures like this.

As the darkness surged towards him again, Severus hoped that it would take him, and claim his life so that he would cease to exist. If he was alive, then it meant nothing if he had failed Potter.

Severus breathed in slowly through his nose and tried to relax into the void, wishing for it. He hoped that somehow, Potter had managed to succeed and kill the Dark Lord, despite his mind not allowing him to hope for his death.

He wanted no more of it.

There would be no mourning in his black, wretched heart for his former master.

The Dark Lord had cost him everything and all that was dear to him.

He had given up the only woman he had ever loved for a life of servitude, and now, that choice had all been for nothing.

He wished for nothing more now than for Death to take him, that he would look upon his old friend's face one more and grovel at Lily's feet if that's what it took, that she would forgive him.

But in the afterlife, Evans was sure never to forgive him for what he had done, how horribly he'd treated the boy.

Lily was sure never to look upon him again with the friendship and affection she might have once held, and dare he thinks this next part, perhaps, if Potter had not been in the picture, love.

This thought alone was more than Severus Snape could bear. As sweet, blissful sleep found the former Hogwarts Headmaster once more, under the watchful and vigilant eye of St. Mungo's Healer Dahlia Hawthorn, Severus whispered the name of the only person who meant anything to him anymore.

"Lily," Severus sighed heavily, and then he slipped into sleep.