EYES OF THE EVERGREEN - quantum witch © 2001
see Prologue for warnings, rating, and summary
Epilogus
Snape sighed heavily with memories and replaced the tiny green crystal into its box. On the table beside him was a book of Muggle poetry he'd been given long ago, some student or other that had decided he needed a Christmas present. Silly children. And mostly silly poems too.
But one always caught his mind, and he always found himself reading it on this night. He held up the book and read the words that he'd already memorised over the years…
i have seen her a stealthily frail
flower walking with its fellows in the death
of light, against whose enormous curve of flesh
exactly cubes of tiny fragrance try;
i have watched certain petals rapidly wish
in the corners of her youth; whom, fiercely shy
and gently brutal, the prettiest wrath
of blossoms disheveling made a pale
fracas upon the accurate moon…
across the important gardens her body
will come toward me with its hurting sexual smell
of lilies… beyond night's silken immense swoon
the moon is like a floating silver hell
a song of adolescent ivory
Wearily, he was reminded of both Juniper and Lily. He had wished to save them both, had risked his life to warn against the coming attack on the latter. Their deaths both haunted him. He was sad, but too tired to let it drag him into a hole of darkness anymore. He already had spent years mourning them, and avenging them, and wearing a mirrored mask to hide those feelings from damn near everyone.
Except Dumbledore of course. He knew everything. That's why he'd eventually given the crystal into Snape's possession. He'd told him that seeing the world through Juniper's eyes might help to alleviate some of the pain. And it had, a tiny bit.
She hadn't enjoyed everything she endured the last few months of her life. But he'd gotten to watch vicariously, through the two years before they'd met. He'd seen her make the dangerous decisions for herself. A will of iron with a sense of humour that kept everything in perspective. And when she was alone, she had been sweet and free and delightful and brilliant. He had seen her world in ways he could never have imagined otherwise. And he wished, with deep bittersweetness, that he'd been able to share it with her.
Clearing his throat of the threat of tears, he called out softly, "Umbra Janua". And Vivian came slowly from the shadows around the hearth. "Hello, old friend," he said with a small smile. "I appreciate all you've done for me over the years."
It is our pleasure, friend Severus, the white Shadow Spider spun out, for you found us a new safe home here in this place. We will help you and all those you hold dear.
"Can you please write down what I say? And of course keep it hidden?" He knew he didn't need to ask, but it was a politeness that they seemed to enjoy exchanging.
As always, came the reply.
And as always, he merely said, "I love you Juniper. I love you, I love you, I love you. Wherever you are. Where you live inside me. Whenever I look around Hogwarts. Whenever I look at Dumbledore. Even when I see Harry Potter, blast the little idiot boy. I care about too many people now, thanks to your love. I've done terrible things even since you left this earth, but all for love. I love you. And I regret many things… but never finding you."
He had to let himself believe that she was somewhere out there. Her soul was waiting for him. Whether it was in an afterlife, or she had been reborn… he couldn't begin to guess. Somehow, he would find her again. He would find love. Why he was sure, he didn't know. Perhaps…
Perhaps, he thought fondly, she still has me under her spell.
...Intercapedo...
· NOTES:
· POEM. By e.e. cummings. Soon as I read it, I thought "hey that sounds a lot like what I'm writing", so I borrowed it. Most everything else cummings writes is… too difficult for me to wrap my head around, unless I'm half unconscious.
· HARRY POTTER. I don't really think Snape HATES Harry. Just lets himself be reminded too much of his own childhood when he sees the boy. And how things play out between Draco and Harry is just too much like his own past for comfort. He has to remain careful with Draco, because of Lucius. But Harry he can harrass and silently protect, and maybe build up his tolerance for nastiness so he can survive on his own… and maybe work out his own personal demons of the past at the same time. Just my theory.
· ENDING. The final word in Latin means "pause". Basically an intermission. This isn't over yet. [UPDATE: Actually it probably is. I just can't make a sequel work.]