Unrequited Love
By JadeWerewolf
Disclaimer: I don't own Severus Snape, Lily Evans, or "that Potter git." I own nothing having to do with Harry Potter. I only own the plot. Don't sue. If you did, you would get about five cents. If that and maybe a furball from my kitty...
Summary: She was a goddess in the flesh and he was...well, Severus Snape.
Her hair was fiery red and her eyes were greener than the greenest emerald. When she walked, everyone turned their heads. When she spoke, all were quiet to listen. Her voice was low and melodic, soft and strong. She was so beautiful, so graceful. Severus dreamed of twirling the silken strands of her hair in his finger tips. Touching her lips with his. Her dreamed of holder her soft body next to his and going to sleep with her in his arms. He wanted nothing more than to be hers...only hers. But that could never be. She was Lily Evans and he was...well, Severus Snape.
He had greasy black hair and black eyes. When he walked, people looked away or shouted insults or gave him looks of disgust. When he spoke, people covered their ears so as not to hear his voice. His voice was deep and silky, full of disdain and menace. He couldn't allow anyone to hear the voice he used around those he loved. Well, in truth, the one he loved but she wouldn't stay around him for more than a second to hear him speak softly. To hear his voice resound with mirth and senitment. No, she wouldn't like it. Besides, she had that Potter git as a boyfriend, anyway.
He worked in the dungeons during the night. Brewing potions kept his mind off everything else. Besides, he loved the fine art of it. He always had said that one could bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper in death with potions. Yes, he loved them. He had a simmering cauldron in fornt of his, the contents of which smelled vile. It was a healing potion. He always kept those handy, especially when the holidays were about and he had to go home. When he had finished, it was far past midnight. He began to ladle the potion into blue flasks that he kept.
And there she was. Lily Evans. His angel. In the doorway, in front of him.
His heart stopped as he looked her. She had a radiant beauty. Even when she looked tired. Her eyes shone bright on that night. And she looked into his. *She*, Lily Evans, looked into *his*, Severus Snape's eyes! The fire at the bottom of his cauldron made shadows that danced upon her lovely face. Her dark nightdress billowing slightly from the draft that always blew in the dungeons. She took a tentative step towards him.
And another. And another. And another until she was right in front of him.
His heart began to race. She was so close... He could reach out and touch her if he wanted to. Feel her soft skin underneath his fingers tips...finally. But he didn't. He just stared, enthralled at her beauty. He couldn't find the words to say anything to her, to ask why she was here, to demand that she leave. To ask how dare she interupt him. Part of him wanted to. The part that was practical and knew his boundries. But the part of him that loved told him not to say anything. Not to ruin this... for if he blinked, she may vanish.
"Severus?" she whispered. How lovely that name sounded on her lips! Yes, he dested it but when she spoke it, it made it seem like the loveliest name on the planet. He opened his mouth, to answer but only a meek little, "Lily?" came out. His pale skin flushed with embarassment. But Lily still stood there, her expression unreadable.
"What are you doing down here so late?" she asked, clutching her arms as if she were cold.
"I'm brewing a potion, can't you see that?" he snapped, feeling disgusted with himself. Lily didn't seem the least bit taken aback. She only replied, "But it's so cold."
"I didn't notice." he mused. Then he realized that he was still holding the ladle, full of potion, just above the flask. He went back to filling them up, aware that her eyes were on him. He pretended not to notice while thinking himself a fool the entire time.
'Speak with her! You've wanted to for so long!' part of him said.
'No. Ignore her. Keep on doing what you're doing.' the other side said.
'I demand that you lift your gaze. Look at Lily.'
'No, not Lily! Evans! Do not look up Severus Snape!'
'Lily! Lily! Lily! Lily! Look at her!' And with that, his softer, sentimental side won and her looked up. Only to find her...gone. He heard the dungeon door close and knew that he had missed his chance to show her the real him. But would she have cared, even if he did. No, he was certain that she would not. And there were times, years later, when he would think about that night. When he would think about her. His angel. His muse. His love. The love that was never returned.
The End
By JadeWerewolf
Disclaimer: I don't own Severus Snape, Lily Evans, or "that Potter git." I own nothing having to do with Harry Potter. I only own the plot. Don't sue. If you did, you would get about five cents. If that and maybe a furball from my kitty...
Summary: She was a goddess in the flesh and he was...well, Severus Snape.
Her hair was fiery red and her eyes were greener than the greenest emerald. When she walked, everyone turned their heads. When she spoke, all were quiet to listen. Her voice was low and melodic, soft and strong. She was so beautiful, so graceful. Severus dreamed of twirling the silken strands of her hair in his finger tips. Touching her lips with his. Her dreamed of holder her soft body next to his and going to sleep with her in his arms. He wanted nothing more than to be hers...only hers. But that could never be. She was Lily Evans and he was...well, Severus Snape.
He had greasy black hair and black eyes. When he walked, people looked away or shouted insults or gave him looks of disgust. When he spoke, people covered their ears so as not to hear his voice. His voice was deep and silky, full of disdain and menace. He couldn't allow anyone to hear the voice he used around those he loved. Well, in truth, the one he loved but she wouldn't stay around him for more than a second to hear him speak softly. To hear his voice resound with mirth and senitment. No, she wouldn't like it. Besides, she had that Potter git as a boyfriend, anyway.
He worked in the dungeons during the night. Brewing potions kept his mind off everything else. Besides, he loved the fine art of it. He always had said that one could bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper in death with potions. Yes, he loved them. He had a simmering cauldron in fornt of his, the contents of which smelled vile. It was a healing potion. He always kept those handy, especially when the holidays were about and he had to go home. When he had finished, it was far past midnight. He began to ladle the potion into blue flasks that he kept.
And there she was. Lily Evans. His angel. In the doorway, in front of him.
His heart stopped as he looked her. She had a radiant beauty. Even when she looked tired. Her eyes shone bright on that night. And she looked into his. *She*, Lily Evans, looked into *his*, Severus Snape's eyes! The fire at the bottom of his cauldron made shadows that danced upon her lovely face. Her dark nightdress billowing slightly from the draft that always blew in the dungeons. She took a tentative step towards him.
And another. And another. And another until she was right in front of him.
His heart began to race. She was so close... He could reach out and touch her if he wanted to. Feel her soft skin underneath his fingers tips...finally. But he didn't. He just stared, enthralled at her beauty. He couldn't find the words to say anything to her, to ask why she was here, to demand that she leave. To ask how dare she interupt him. Part of him wanted to. The part that was practical and knew his boundries. But the part of him that loved told him not to say anything. Not to ruin this... for if he blinked, she may vanish.
"Severus?" she whispered. How lovely that name sounded on her lips! Yes, he dested it but when she spoke it, it made it seem like the loveliest name on the planet. He opened his mouth, to answer but only a meek little, "Lily?" came out. His pale skin flushed with embarassment. But Lily still stood there, her expression unreadable.
"What are you doing down here so late?" she asked, clutching her arms as if she were cold.
"I'm brewing a potion, can't you see that?" he snapped, feeling disgusted with himself. Lily didn't seem the least bit taken aback. She only replied, "But it's so cold."
"I didn't notice." he mused. Then he realized that he was still holding the ladle, full of potion, just above the flask. He went back to filling them up, aware that her eyes were on him. He pretended not to notice while thinking himself a fool the entire time.
'Speak with her! You've wanted to for so long!' part of him said.
'No. Ignore her. Keep on doing what you're doing.' the other side said.
'I demand that you lift your gaze. Look at Lily.'
'No, not Lily! Evans! Do not look up Severus Snape!'
'Lily! Lily! Lily! Lily! Look at her!' And with that, his softer, sentimental side won and her looked up. Only to find her...gone. He heard the dungeon door close and knew that he had missed his chance to show her the real him. But would she have cared, even if he did. No, he was certain that she would not. And there were times, years later, when he would think about that night. When he would think about her. His angel. His muse. His love. The love that was never returned.
The End