If only I had turned round
by leaserpent
Disclaimer: (Applies to all chapters) No, quite obvious I don't own the wonderful world of JK Rowling. All characters and ideas in the Harry Potter series belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. They have the exclusive rights for all Harry Potter books. My story is not intended for profit, but just for fun, and not at all do I claim to be a talented writer. So all new characters are created by myself and I do claim these words written by my own. If you don't like my style, well, you don't have to read it.
Reviews are welcome, both bad and good ones, but I don't like flames.
Please note: I'm not a native speaker.
Character Pairings: Severus Snape/???
Rating PG-13. Warnings: Indicating suicide.
And here it goes...
Prologue: Numb
I remember our encounter - just like it's been yesterday.
„What's wrong with you?", she asked.
„Nothing", I said briefly, trying to keep my voice low and steady. I don't want to show any feelings, especially not to her.
Show any feelings? Where did these very thoughts come from? As if I was ever showing them... No, not me. I always have myself under control. Some might call me stiff, but I don't mind. People call me mean, malicious, sometimes even evil. I'm not that kind of man to care about it.
Why waste my precious time on what others think of me?
„Severus? What - is – wrong?"
What did she call me? I noticed myself slowly seething with anger and rage. How did she dare to use my first name?
„It's none of your business!", I snapped at her. Giving her a look that could even freeze hell, I turned round and then rushed down the corridor with billowing robes. Not noticing anything any more.
If I had only caught one last glimpse of her, I would have seen everything. Her pain is written all over her face, visibly for everyone, but just for one moment, then it's gone. She hides her pain under a mask, an always smiling and friendly mask, but nonetheless it's a mask – just like the one I wear.
But the mine is bitter, harsh and cruel. Basically we are similar to each other, but I'm too blind to see, too selfish to give in and realise the obviousness.
Standing like a marble statue, she kept staring after me.
Oh, if only I had turned round!
Things could have become different, some things could have changed.
But I didn't turn round. And now it is too late to mourn over what could have happened for it did not. She is dead...
„Selfish bastard!"I had cursed myself so to lessen the pain which had overwhelmed me after Albus had told me of her death.
„It's not your fault! There's nothing you could have done", I heard a familiar voice saying.
Oh, but I could have! If only I had turned round...
Now, I sat here on this warm comfortable couch, drinking tea. Comfortable – yeah – but nothing could ever replace her and give me back the comfort which she so easily gave me.
What made me too blind to see?
I heaved a sigh of frustration. Too late to notice my lack of self-control, while all attention in the room was suddenly drawn to me.
„What's wrong?"someone asked.
No, not these words again... I just didn't want to hear them any more. I felt as if my always so well placed shield, my mask, slid away. The walls which I built around me now began to cave in and a lonely tear found its way out of my eye and ran down my cheek. I swallowed and blinked, aware that there was nothing I could do now to prevent the inevitable.
So for the first time in many years, I gave in - I gave in to myself and let out all feelings pent up inside. Let them pull down my walls and find their way to the surface.
If only I had turned round, I thought.
Too late. The pain, the bitterness, the suppressed feelings, the helplessness of too many years flooded my face. Like a distant observer, I felt the warm tears, one after another finding its way out, dropping in a constant flow from my chin onto the floor.
I trembled - still not saying one single word.
Someone touched my shoulder. I didn't flinch, didn't pull away as I usually do when being touched. I only tensed up. By now, I'd lost control over my body as I leant on this comforting, gentle hand on my shoulder. Me and my companion, with his hand still on my shoulder, now sat next to each other, attracting the attention of every single person in the room. He hugged me, not saying a word. For no words need to be said. He surely knew that I would not hear them, even if he would scream at the top of his voice right into my ear.
So he tried to caress me in a fatherly way. Still not saying a word, we sat there till no one was present in the room any more.
My eyes burnt. I could almost see how red they are. My cheeks were dry again, but my mask was not where it should be.
All my strength and willpower were gone. Without his arm resting on my shoulder, I would really feel weak.
I opened my mouth as to speak, but no words then came out, with a click my jaw flipped back into its position.
I nodded, trying to signal my dear companion to let me off.
I stood up, as in the past few hours my eyes were still turning towards the floor. The gentle hand was now back on my shoulder, patting and squeezing me reassuringly before finally leaving my shoulder.
"If there is anything, and I really mean ANYTHING, I can do for you, just let me know. Don't hesitate to call me - at any time."
I should have thanked him, should have told him how much the past few hours of silent comfort meant to me. But I can't, I just can't find my voice. So not one single sound came out of my mouth while I slowly turned round and made my way to the door.
There at last I halted, being overcome by guilty feelings.
There was so much I wanted to tell him, so much for which I wanted to thank him, so much I wanted to say...
As I went back to him and looked into his eyes, I was once more overwhelmed by the knowing look in his eyes.
All of a sudden I thought that he knew. He knew that I can't find my voice nor my strength to say what my heart feels and owes to him.
So I announced not a faint but yet powerful "Thank you for everything Albus".
Now it was his turn to nod while still catching my eye. He formed his lips into a genuine smile and I felt myself replying the same honest way.
When I went back to my quarters in the dungeon, I still had the smile we just shared on my face.
I knew that almost all open strings are bound now.
For the rest, it's not up to me any more to bind).
I wrote a few letters to those whom I call my friends. Although I did not have many, I trusted them and I also know that they have confidence in me and what I'm doing.
Albus, Minerva and Remus.. and Evan, the last friend of mine with whom I went to school together. As unbelievable as it may sound to myself, there was even a letter to Potter - Harry - I corrected myself.
I gave the letters to a female house elve, telling her to deliver them not before breakfast at the next morning. With a courtly bow she disappeared.
I took a seat on my couch near my beloved fireplace. I poured myself a glass of wine, enjoying the wonderful taste. I looked at the vial in the other hand and the reddish shimmering liquid in there. "Red, like blood", I thought, "is the correctly brewed colour". The teacher, the potions master, inside of me came to surface again.
It's red like the wine I was drinking, the one which she loved so much.
While I thought of her in all her beauty, I smiled and poured the blood-red potion in my glass of wine and finished it with one huge gulp, still now I didn't stop thinking of her.
They found me the next morning, with this same rigid smile on my lips. In front of the now extinct fireplace. With a shattered vial and glass on the floor.
The ending
Now use the bottom down on the left side and tell me what you think. Remember, no flames, please.
I am not sure whether I should continue this. Yes, I do have some more ideas, some explanations as well that'd show what happened before this. Curious who she is?
The other option is to keep it this way, as a one-shot. A tragic ending of a relationship between our dear potions master and a woman, whose identity we do not know.
It's up to you!