Something To Sleep To

She's his yellow brick road,

Leading him on and letting him go

As far as far as she lets him go,

Going down to nowhere.

Lily Evans was late for Potions. She ran down the corridors leading down to the dungeons, running a hand through her long red hair. She darted into the classroom just as Professor Slughorn was taking attendance. She slid into the only empty seat in the fifth-year potions classroom; no one would sit in because it was next to Severus Snape.

"Ah, Lily," he beamed at her. "Late again, tsk, tsk!" he said, in a tone of mock-sternness.

She smiled demurely and reached in to get out her Potion kit. Her head was bent down over her cauldron when, some minutes later, she felt something jabbing into her upper back. At first she ignored it, but it got more persistent until she finally reached around and grabbed the offending finger. On the other end of that finger was a handsome James Potter, grinning at her.

"Hey, Evans," he whispered, "are you free this weekend? Me and the boys were going down to Hogsmeade, and were wondering if--"

"No." Lily replied, and turned back around.

"Come on, Evans," James wheedled. "You don't want to be stuck here with Snivellus all weekend, do you?" He realized that this was the wrong thing to say when her head whipped around and she stared at him through narrowed eyes.

"He's better company than you, Potter," she said disdainfully, and ignored all further attempts to convince her to go with him.

Severus Snape, head down over his cauldron, long black hair obscuring his face, allowed himself a tiny smile.

---

Late that evening, when he'd finished all of his schoolwork, Severus Snape crept out of the dungeons and up to a particular suit of armour in a remote 5th floor corridor. "Inconcessus," he whispered, and the suit of armour stepped aside to reveal a hidden door. He opened it slowly and stepped into a tiny, closet-like room. In the corner, there was a tiny cot, and that's where Lily Evans sat waiting for him, leaning against the wall, a small smile on her face. She stood when she saw him enter.

"Severus..." she whispered, and their bodies met in a frenzy of hormones, lust, and something that almost felt like love.

When they lay on the cot some minutes later, naked, sweat-drenched and spent, Severus kissed the top of her head. He still couldn't believe it. He'd had her so many times, and still it seemed miraculous that she would want him, Snivellus, and not one of her richer, more attractive suitors. She was his angel, his red-haired goddess of light. He held her tighter, and felt her arms tighten around him in turn.

"We really should be going," she whispered, and he felt the vibrations run through her chest before he heard the words. His countenance, so happy a moment before, was shattered. He knew how it would be. She would walk out first, hair tied back in a neat bun, clothes somewhat rumpled but expression guarded and businesslike, heading towards the Gryffindor tower.

He would wait fifteen minutes, lying on the cot, breathing in her scent, lost in his thoughts of her. Then he would steel his mind, smooth out his tie, and walk out in the opposite direction, going back to the dungeons. And with that first cautious step out the door, reality would slap him in the face once again. He was Snivellus, a greasy-haired git to be mocked and despised. And she was-- she was Lily Evans. He sighed and made his way down the stone steps, crossing his arms against the cold of the dungeons.

---

It was Christmas day when Lily awoke to a pile of presents heaped at the foot of her bed. Feeling giddy, she jumped down and began ripping apart her presents, ignoring the letter perched precariously atop the pile. When she had ripped apart all of her presents, including a small bottle of perfume from Severus. She was sitting back against her footboard when one of her roommates pointed out the letter, sitting forlorn on the floor. She picked it up, lazily studying the wax seal as she ripped it open. JP for James Potter?

Lily, the letter began.

I know you don't like me. You're probably not even going to read this letter. But I just wanted to say that I like you a lot, honestly. You're not like those other girls; you're different, special, better. So, if you're reading this, just please, give me a chance. I won't let you down, I promise.

Love?

James

Lily regarded the letter warily, then, feeling the envelope, reached in and pulled out a beautiful necklace, engraved with her initials. She was finding it hard to remember why she so despised James, she put it on, much to the squeals of her roommates. Getting up, she walked over to the mirror to admire herself. She smiled and fingered it, liking the way it looked against her pale skin. Then she remembered Severus, and for a moment she felt a pang in her heart; she couldn't wear the locket, she thought to herself as she examined the beautiful piece of jewellry, miserably resolute.

All day long, all through the Christmas feast, she ran it through her mind, around and around in circles, until that particular thought was worn down like an old pair of jeans. She was meeting Severus the next night, and she resolved to ask him about it then. Until then, she told herself as she eyed James Potter, she could have fun.

---

When Boxing Day rolled around, Severus walked to the tiny room almost gleefully. Lily had given him a gold-leafed copy of Moste Potente Potions, and he hoped that she would be wearing her perfume. He smiled as he recalled making it; he had used all the scents that reminded her of him, even a tiny bit of the cleaning solution they always smelled in the room.

When he entered the room, she was lying stretched out on the bed, naked. He sprung to attention immediately, and pounced on her, both of them laughing quietly.

When they were done, curled around each other like cats, he ran a hand through her hair, fingering the fiery red strands. She purred into his chest, and he smiled. Then her body suddenly stiffened, and Severus looked down, concerned. "I almost forgot..." she murmured, digging through the pile of clothes heaped unceremoniously at the foot of the bed. "Look what James got me," she said, holding up a small gold locket.

Severus smirked. "Surely," he drawled, "you don't intend upon wearing it?"

"I, erm, well, I was actually going to ask you about that," she replied, eyes downcast. Warning bells went off in his head. You knew this was going to happen, Snivellus, a little voice said inside of him. You knew she couldn't be yours. She needs a real man, not some creature borne of shadow and misery.

No!, Severus thought vehemently. But the voice just laughed. Don't try to fool yourself, Snivellus, it taunted. Just give her up, break it off now, save some of your dignity. "Erm," he faltered. "erm, I suppose you, er, should, you know, keeping up appearances." He mentally slapped himself. He sounded so weak, so... desperate.

"Oh, yeah, of course," Lily replied, her eyes lighting up in spite of herself. Of course she still loved Severus, but the necklace was just so pretty! No, she thought to herself. I shouldn't do the necklace a dishonour by not wearing it; he obviously put effort into it. Yes, she went on, trying to convince herself. Yes, I'd best wear the necklace.

She kissed Severus once more, long and passionately, before getting up and gathering her clothes. As she swept his hair back behind his ear and kissed him one last time before slipping out the door, Severus couldn't help but feel like he was starting to lose her.

She puts on her make up

The same way she did yesterday,

Hoping every thing's the same.

But everything has changed.

They continued their silent meetings through March, but Severus could feel her slipping away even as he tasted her on his lips, felt her under him, held her in his arms. She denied that anything was wrong, but he saw the way she looked at Potter as she walked with him, hand in hand. They weren't anything more than friends, she assured him, but sometimes he wondered if they wouldn't be better off together.

He knew he was selfish, possessive, unworthy. Every time he started to doubt her, he would remind himself how phenomenally unworthy he was of her. Every time he emptied himself into her, he reminded himself how lucky he was to have her. But you're not content, are you, Snivellus? the little voice taunted. You want her all to your own, don't you? Yes, he admitted to himself, he did. Was that so much to ask? You ungrateful twat, he told himself. Take advantage of what you have; a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush and whatnot.

And yet--- he watched them together, laughing, talking, and couldn't help but think how perfect they were together, and how (he cringed) imperfectly he fit into her life.

---

Lily could feel herself growing apart from Severus, even as she kissed him, held him, satisfied him. She was sad, but somehow, everything didn't seem so bad when she was in James's arms. He was so sweet, so gentlemanly, so... so everything she'd ever wanted. She kept James at arm distance, however, feeling guilty about him every time she caught Severus's eye.

She couldn't decide between the two of them. Severus was thoughtful and kind enough, but James was all that and he was the Gryffindor seeker, and there were whispers that he might be recruited by Puddlemere United after graduation. Lily didn't think of herself as shallow, but she couldn't help but smile when she thought of herself on the arm of a professional Quidditch player!

On St. Patrick's day, she and Severus were meeting in their tiny room; he'd said he had something for her. She walked in, still glowing from an earlier conversation with James, when she saw him sitting on the bed, staring at her. She was confused. Wasn't she always supposed to get there first? She stepped towards him, but he held up a hand.

"Don't," he commanded her, and she stopped in her tracks.

He wakes up to the sound,

So scared that she's leaving.

He wishes she were still asleep next to him,

Hoping' she will change.

Severus Snape came from a proud, haughty family, and he was no exception. Much as he tried to deny it, he was exactly like his Muggle father. Disdainful, prideful, sinful... but Lily Evans was his angel of light. He tried to stay away, but somehow, he managed to be always at her beck and call.

He wasn't surprised when she fell for James Potter. It may have been meant to be, he mused bitterly, late at night, but that didn't make it any less painful. The memory of her lips on his, her body enveloping him, drove him crazy every time he saw her with Potter, his arm draped casually around her shoulder, her laughing at something he'd just said.

It was Valentine's day when he made his decision. He had snorted derisively when three owls converged on Lily's seat at the Gryffindor table, all bearing gifts for her. His pride slapped him upside the head as he watched her squeal happily as she unwrapped each box of chocolates, read each card. He could see, even from the other side of the room, that every single one was from Potter. Potter grinned and popped a chocolate into Lily's mouth. She squealed in mock indignance and punched him lightly in the arm, smiling through a mouthful of Honeyduke's Finest. He watched her as her eyes scanned the room absently, finally fixing on him. He sneered and turned away.

He knew then that he had to do it, that he had to break it off. But he would take a breath, the words ready in his mouth, and then she would kiss him, and he would forget them in a heartbeat. And so, that March night, when she walked in looking confused, he held out a hand to stop her.

"Don't," he commanded, and she stopped in her tracks.

"Severus?" she asked, uncertain. Her vivid green eyes scanned his face, searching for some clue as to what had come over him.

Thoughts whirled around in his head as he tried to say the words, rehearsed so many times in the privacy of his dorm; he knew them by heart, but somehow, he just couldn't say them.

"I can't do this anymore," he said, much colder than he had intended. His black eyes were guarded, his facial expression neutral, but he was falling apart inside. Was he doing the right thing? he wondered.

Her face fell. "Erm, yeah," she stammered. Her green eyes looked up at him, hurt. "Well, erm, I guess I'll be going." She reached up to kiss him, standing on tiptoes to reach his mouth. He held her close and poured everything into that one kiss, knowing that this was the last time he would ever touch her.

Lily pulled away, panting. She took one last look at Severus and hurried out the door, long red hair flying behind her. Severus just sank down on the bed, defeated. His heart broke when he realized that she'd been wearing his perfume. He curled up on the bed and stared at the wall, not crying, not anything, just thinking. He laid there for hours, pouring over his every memory of Lily, breathing in her scent for the last time.

---

10 years later

Severus Snape was a cold, unfeeling, sarcastic man. 'The Great Bat of the Dungeons,' his students called him, when they didn't think he could hear them. Ironic, he thought, as he sat at his desk in the freezing dungeons, watching the little incompetents ruin potion after potion, that he would end up teaching her subject. A shiver of hatred ran through him. The little slut, he thought bitterly.

He'd watched her, flirting with James, batting her eyelashes at him, cuddling under his arm, and he felt sick. He came to despise her; his Angel of light, deserting him for... for Potter, he spat. And then, she thought that she would play the heroine and rescue him. The filthy Mudblood. His blood curdled, just remembering...

He was dangling upside down, James Potter and Sirius Black having hexed him. His robes were falling, exposing his pale skinny legs and graying underwear. He was watching Lily Evans storm over, shouting at James.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Lily shouted. She had her own wand out now. James and Sirius eyed it warily.

"Ah, Evans, don't make me hex you," said James earnestly.

"Take the curse off him, then!"

James sighed deeply, then turned to Snape and muttered the counter curse. "You're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus--"

"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"

Lily blinked. "Fine," she said coolly. "I won't bother in the future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus."

From that moment on, Lily was as cold to him as ever. She didn't go out of her way to bully him, like James and Sirius, but she certainly didn't stop them. He watched them going out, dancing at the Yule ball, and finally, their wedding pictures in the Daily Prophet. He sneered at the happy newlyweds when he saw the picture. Good riddance, Lily Potter.

---

Lily Potter was the happiest she could remember being. She had a wonderful husband, an adorable son, and life was good. James hadn't gotten that Quidditch position, but he'd landed a good job at the ministry, and things were going very well for the young family. She still thought of Severus sometimes, when James was asleep and she was rocking little Harry.

She might've felt guilty about him, if it wasn't for the way he'd treated her. After she saved him from James and Sirius! The ungrateful idiot. She didn't need him any ways, she thought, as she absently brushed a lock of unruly black hair off of Harry's forehead. She was happy.

---

It was late one stormy night when he followed Dumbledore to the Hog's Head. He had originally planned to kidnap the doddering old man, under orders from Voldemort. But as he followed the old man upstairs under cover of shadows, he heard a seer's unmistakable voice, and when he heard his master's name mentioned, Severus crept to the door, putting his ear to the door.

"THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES... BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES..." Severus pressed his ear closer to the keyhole, holding his breath in anticipation. He was so intent upon the prophecy that he didn't notice the bartender ascending the stairs.

"Oi!" the bartender shouted, and Severus was snapped back to reality. Oh, shit, he thought. Spotted. He was bodily thrown out of the establishment, but as he stumbled to his feet and Disapparated, he returned to his master with a sense of malevolent eager.

In my mind, everything we did was right,

Open your eyes, I'll still be here by your side

How could I ever have been so blind?

You give me something to sleep to at night.

Severus was sitting at the table at Spinner's End, contentedly sipping his morning tea, when the Daily Prophet owl flew in, bearing his morning newspaper. Ah, he thought, as he unfolded the newspaper, seeing the picture of the house with the glittering Dark Mark floating above it. Master grows stronger. He took a sip of tea and scanned the article. "THREE DEAD IN ATTACK... SECOND ATTACK THIS WEEK... MIRACULOUS SURVIVAL..." he rolled his eyes; old news. Who, he mused absently, was the lucky family this time?

He spit out his tea when he saw the names. "Lily Evans Potter and James Potter, dead in late-night attack..." His heart stopped. No, no, no, his mind was screaming. Oh, God, please, no! Frantically, he scanned the article, his mind whirring, his heart stopped. Who was the miraculous survival? He threw down the newspaper when he saw it was the Potter's infant son.

Severus screamed, the feral, primal sound of an animal in pain. He fell on the floor, clutching his Dark Mark, sobbing. No, no, no, anyone but her, his mind screamed. He lay there, the accomplished Death Eater, Voldemort's trusted confidante, sobbing on the floor, for an immeasurable amount of time. It could have been minutes, or it could have been days.

When he got up, he knew where he was going. He straightened his robes, steeled his resolve, and Apparated to the front gates of Hogwarts. He would go to Dumbledore, he vowed. He would repent. He would do anything to get her back. He applied for the position of Potions Master; it had always been her favorite subject.

He never did get her back. He taught her son, and grandsons, and great-grandsons, but he never got her back. As an old man, close to death, he grasped his wife's hand and held her close, but unruly, graying brown hair could never replace that forever youthful, vibrant red, wise brown eyes could never replace heedless green ones, and Hermione Granger-Snape could never replace his Lily Evans.

You give me something to sleep to, and all I know is,

You give me something to dream to.

Don't leave me now, don't leave me now,

Don't leave me now, don't leave me now...