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First Quick little note- I wrote this while being traumatizingly bored at work. Just thought you should all know that piece of trivia.
Second Note: This is a song fic to Avril Lavigne's song 'Tomorrow. I don't own it.
Third Note: I don't own any of J.K. Rowling's characters, so stop looking at me like that! Woot!
--And I want to believe you
When you tell me that it'll be okay
Yeah, I try to believe you,
But I don't. --
I imagine that the world resides on your shoulders- the fate of the world combining into a great mass of chaos and turmoil. I see that it toys with you.
But though everything that even remotely hints at your name screams 'save me', you just smile and continue on your merry way as though you were the normal one- the one unscathed by the amount of despair that the world threatens to hand out.
You are the first person to reach underneath my mask. Yet, you do not lift the mask, but merely smooth out the wrinkles underneath, allowing me to remain myself. I would still like to know how that came about. No matter.
The point, is that I cannot simply believe that the world will not collapse upon itself- or that it will survive the plummeting fall it is fated to take. Nothing will remain, nothing will be 'splendid', and it will all become anarchy.
As much hope as you try to instill upon me, it will not work its way beneath my disguise. You are there, beneath the cold-heartedness, but the hope remains at the door. It will not come through.
--When you say that its gonna be
It always turns out to be a different way
I try to believe you
Not today…--
You laugh at me. How is it that one who was once intimidated to the point of being speechless can comfortably stroll up to me and smile? I must be losing my touch.
Then one day, what was once a normal day by standards, things went catastrophically wrong. We walked side by side in the hallways as it had become routine, only to find Albus in our way.
"Ah, Professor Snape, Harry… just the two I wished to see," he croons, his eyes faintly glittering. I despise those eyes.
"Greetings, sir. What can we do for you?" my overeager sidekick asks, no trace of doubt in his mind whatsoever.
"As a matter of fact, I wished to discuss some things of great importance- but it will have to wait until we can initiate some privacy."
He leads us from the corridors and to a small unused charms classroom- a room of minor use since the increase of students in recent years. A fine layer of dust coats everything.
He wards the room, making the walls gleam with magic and gestures to three magically clean chairs set beside the usual platter of tea. Not that you'd catch me drinking the tea- I've heard too many rumors of those who succumb to Dumbledore's tea.
We sit down, but only to be told the tale of another prophecy, one which was kept hidden, declaring that the savior of the world would have to choose a life mate and publicly announce it within two weeks of their defeat of the Dark Lord.
I looked over at the one who had been thrown into the title and found a small smile sided with something akin to nervousness.
"I thought I would have more time," says the- boy- who-lived, only a trace of disappointment on his face.
It's pretty good, his mask. In fact, it's nearly as good as my own, though his still needs practice.
"Harry, I do not know how long you have, but it is most urgent that you declare your mate as soon as possible. The consequences may affect the rest of the wizarding world."
Thank you, Dumbledore.
As I watch Potter's shoulders slump in silent defeat, I can only wonder why Dumbledore asked me to stay for the conversation.
--I don't know how I'll feel
Tomorrow, Tomorrow
I don't know what to say
Tomorrow, tomorrow is a different day--
Potter's taking the old coot's words to heart. He is now dating the ever reproducing Ginny Weasley. Ick. Weasley. What is he thinking? Surely there must be a thousand and one more women eager to be the savior's wife- why a Weasley?
He hasn't declared it yet, but I know it will be soon. He will choose her. Some faint part of me says 'good riddance- there is a pest withdrawn', but the other less bitter side berates that I will miss his company- or the company that he was.
Some part of me wants to pity him for choosing myself as his friend when he was depressed over his less than exemplary work history. But I do not pity.
It was not his fault that he had been forced to give up steady jobs because the wizarding world seemed too unsteady. The job at Olivanders hadn't been good from the start- what with all the wands mysteriously magnetizing towards him. Or the Auror job. Damn the Daily Prophet. Every mission ended with a supply of reporters in both his wake and his future footsteps, thus scaring away all offenders before they could be caught.
Of course, the Quidditch idea that Draco had pitched was the perfect match. If only Potter would see that.
--It's always been up to you
It's turning around it's up to me
I'm gonna do what I have to do
Just don't…
Give me a little time
Leave me alone a little while
Maybe it's not too late
Not today…--
Blast it all. Potter is far too much on my mind for my liking. Three months and still, he does not announce her to be the one. What is he waiting for? And when did I become so impatient?
I am alone in this world, and shall remain that way for a long time. Perhaps forever. Splendid- something to look forward to.
Potter is driving me mad. All he wants to do is talk about how unbelievable Ginny is, and how much they have in common. As if I want to hear that. Besides, I often wonder why he is not at her side, and instead, chooses to spend his time with me.
He tells me that he cares for her a great deal- of course, he has yet to declare the ever useful 'L' word. What good is speaking to me about the relationship when what he needs to do is tell the ever sweet Ginny how he feels?
I am content that he is happy, although I do feel a pang of dislike of the two together. My immediate dislike of the pairing comes from somewhere unknown to me. An odd sensation that makes me feel the need to separate the two. What it is all about evades my knowledge, but it does make me wonder about certain things- perhaps I am ill.
--And I don't know how I'll feel
Tomorrow, tomorrow
And I don't know how I'll feel
Tomorrow- Tomorrow is a different day.--
The world is madness. Total and utterly complete chaos. Or, at least, my world is. I am confused, lost, and consequently, jumping for joy. Not that I'd actually jump. Regardless of the six month standing relationship regarding a fiery red head and Potter, Potter has decided to turn the tables. He dropped her. And though it pains me to admit it, I was quite relieved, given the news. Why he dropped her, I do not know, nor do I really care- the fact that he dropped her is enough for me, and leaves me feeling interest in the world around me. Not that Potter and I did not spend seven hours a week discussing diplomacy, but that he does not even mention her anymore, as though that small part of his life did not exist, or was already buried into the back of his mind- never to be seen again.
Even now, when he is sitting across from me, I can feel the wakefulness of a smile threatening to consume my mouth. Potter remains blissfully ignorant to this as he sits in the plush leather chair in front of the fullness of my fire.
He is silent, even as I fight for my mask which is always in place when he is about. I watch him closely, unsure what to say, or if to say anything. Our time together is usually spent with banter of a mildly playful nature, or in companionable silence. But today, his expression is one of complex thought, a gathering of thoughts so difficult and full of compassion that it was a crime to interrupt them.
I sit down across from him, my mind wandering to the few topics that could have him so profoundly wrapped in. I can see the lines of worry etched into his brow, and the unconscious swish of the tongue to wet his lips.
In fact, I am so absorbed in him that I do not even hear him talking.
"Severus," he says, the raspiness in his throat slowly startling me out of my wandering thoughts. I look up, only to be thrown into a green pool of deep emerald embers, so dark that even the flecks of blue sparkle to new heights.
"Severus," he says again when he sees that he has my complete attention. I am in awe. It is not a raspiness that I can hear from him now, but the growling thickness of a voice in askance.
"Severus," he repeats, this time with a bit of stamina. I watch him, my black onyx eyes boring into his with wild curiosity. It has never taken him this long to speak his mind, and it must be important with the nature of his face and voice. He does not continue.
"Yes?" I ask quietly, trying to fight the losing battle of my temper. Never had I the patience to begin with, and therefore, I had very little to lose.
He continued to pause until I threatened inwardly to shake him until he spoke.
"Severus," he said a fourth time, his tongue seeming to relish my name. "What is there between us?"
I drew breath and held it, the question unexpected. He leaned forward in rapt attention, waiting for me to answer. My mind went into overdrive, searching for the answer he was looking for. What does he want to know?
"As loathe as I used to be to admit this, I see a friendship of sorts between us- or at least some unspoken understanding." What was that look that just passed over his face? It looked like disappointment… what was there to be disappointed in?
"Oh."
"Was there something else you wanted?"
"Yes. I wanted what I never had."
We'd been through this before. We'd deduced that neither of us had much of anything, and that what we'd had, never lasted for long.
"And which item would that be?"
"Love. The thing I never had with Ginny."
My mouth tried to open of its own accord, but I wouldn't let it.
"But you were with her for months- surely she loved you?"
"It's not a question of her love, Severus. It is mine."
"You did not love her?" My mind struggled with the comprehension of such a conversation.
"No. I cared for her like the sister I was brought up to know her as- but not a lover."
"Ah. So you maintained the relationship to see if something was there."
"Yes. But I don't love her… while she was with me, another invaded my mind- the other being the reason I remained with her as long as I did."
I am frozen. I am a piece of stone that remains unmovable by any means- so far am I in shock.
"Another? Whom?" He had never spoken like this, never seeming so reluctant to say what we both knew he had to say.
"Well, this other pronounces great respect. Their wit astounds me, the mere presence of them compelling me to be myself and not the happy Boy-Who-Lived who, I must grudgingly hold dear for my supporters.
"This person poses the most intoxicatingly sweet complex questions to the mind and underestimatedly heightens the senses. The person on my mind wordlessly fights for the right of the world, amid the few mistakes they made. They fight for the sole purpose of survival- though to an extent, for there is not always an alternative agenda. They are infuriatingly blunt, and as sadistic as can be."
My mind begins to run, scanning people he knew, people he didn't, and enemies of a distinctive nature.
"Who?! I'd like to know who it is, and not have their traits," I cried, my temper failing to stay in check.
He laughed- a small sharp sound of amusement.
"You."
My mouth opens of its own accord and this time, I can't help it. Part of my mind has wrapped around his words, but the other half, continues to demand who it is.
--Hey yeah Yeah
Hey Yeah Yeah
And I know, I'm not ready
Hey yeah yeah
Hey yeah yeah
And I know, I'm not ready--
He's left. He says those words to me and leaves, leaving me to the hell of my mind to mull it over. What madness is this? This is all some sort of joke- an odd game- but for whose benefit? Not Potters- he needed all of his dignity to tell me that. So whose side is it from?
It could not have been real what I just saw and heard. A dream- yes, that's it.
I rise, and walk to my brandy. Downing its contents, I am a jumble of nerves, everything either in state of creating turmoil, or breaking down.
I must be losing it. Air. Yes, I need air. I must have spent too long in my dungeons. I will go for a walk.
I reach the front doors to the castle, still intact from its many years of service.
I step outside- the frigid wind throwing itself into my face and hair, only to surround the one person who was the very cause of my state- the one who was once the bane of my existence, but through the immaculate years and the shadow that he became- my friend.
His words still fresh in my mind remind me that I want to know the truth.
"Potter." He turns to me, his face upturned to the breeze and his gemstone eyes stare back into mine. I can read him; he is not showing me his mask, but exactly how he feels: Sorrow, nervousness, and something akin to excitement. He does not speak, but merely looks at me, allowing me to take him in. I struggle for my thoughts. It could not be a prank.
"What did you mean down there?"
He sighs.
"You of all people should have understood. It was meant to be heard- not commented on as though cheap poetry. It was meant to be said, heard, and in response, preferably felt. But forget I mentioned it- I could see it in your eyes that you would not be the one to return my feelings."
I struggled to understand.
"So it was true? Everything you shared with me was true?"
Excitement with a flurry of something else drove out my confusion. Was it love? Could I 'love' Harry Potter?
He sighed again and turned away, choosing to lean on the stair sidings.
"Forget it, Severus."
I'm not sure what made me do it- perhaps it was the lack of warmth, the clutter of my mind, or just an insane desire, but I turned him to face me and kissed him.
It wasn't the first time I had kissed another man, but it was the first time I had ever felt that spark- the thrill of being lost in someone's arms so deeply that you can't find your way out- but so much in pleasure that you don't really care. His arms around my neck, he struggled to get closer to me, and I, to him.
We were locked- no separation could come now; no breaking what we began until the last of my air ran out and I was functioning on his.
We stopped and looked at each other- neither one prepared to speak, but both silently falling into mutual understanding.
We walked back in together, hand in hand, and went back to the warmth of my quarters, where we proceeded to get to know each other with more devotion than anything either of us had ever encountered.
We became lovers that night, and every night since.
Even now, as we stand beside the remains of what was once the most hated and cruel Dark Lord, he stands beside me, and we are together.
I believe in hope.
--And I want to believe you
When you tell me that it'll be okay,
Yeah I try to believe you
Not today…--
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