NEMESIS


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"Man gives every reason for his conduct save one; every excuse for his crimes, save one; every plea for his safety, save one…. And that one reason is cowardice."

-George Bernard Shaw

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The velvet feet of night are gliding away, stealthily, noiselessly, and though the sun hasn't risen yet, there is a faint tinge of red smeared upon the tree tops in the horizon. It reminds Severus of Lily's long tresses, the rouge of her lips, the blush on her cheeks, the rose in her hair.

He can still remember the day when she'd first let her hair loose, during a Quidditch match in their third year, and he'd felt, for the first time in his life, the sudden dangerous desire to touch a girl's hair.

He still feels it, the desire to let his fingers spider down her silky strands, perhaps stealing a kiss or two in the process….

A moan of despair strangles his throat, and his feet skid to a halt, beside the giant birch tree, by the lake.

It is no longer night, and it is not yet day, and the entire school is still asleep. The curfew isn't over yet, the curfew hasn't begun, but Severus doesn't care. All he cares about quelling this feverish restlessness within himself. Besides, he knows that Filch fears him too much to stop him from taking this walk.

The grass is slippery, wet with early morning dew, and the green in their sharp blades is like the green in Lily's eyes….

He leans his head against the bark of the tree, his eyes tightly shut, his hands roaming all over, as if Lily's touch from yesterday still lingers upon it.

A violent shudder ripples through his chest when the vision of Lily flashes before his eyes again. Lily—and—and—that thing, locked in an embrace, in a kiss that was meant for him, for Severus….

He thinks he will do anything, anything, to wipe out the memory of Lily kissing that monster. He fears he will lose his famous control, and swoop down on her in a fit of jealous rage, to scrub her mouth clean, to shake her into reason, to force her into murdering Potter.

…And then the memory of the potion he made comes hurtling back to him, and he knows that he has fallen a victim to his own schemes. He can't blame anyone but himself for what has come to pass.

It is not the sorrow of a precious plan gone awry that pains him the most; no, the remorse is much, much deeper…for he is like a man who has just relinquished his dream to his worst foe.

A wave of bitterness is swamping through Severus like venom, and he tugs his tie in frustration, as if it was suffocating him.

This is Fate's way of punishing him, isn't it? This is his Nemesis, mocking him, for trying to cheat Love and for trying to trick Luck…

The sick fool that he is; did he really think that he could win Lily for himself? Well, he tried to twist Destiny, and lo! He instead became the tool for Potter to win her.

Potter, who wears his heart on his sleeve, and never hesitates to declare his love… Potter, who Lily has thwarted at every turn of her life… Potter, who was born to be loved by Lily….

Yes, Lily has rejected Potter's offer of love, yes, she has rejected him. But this is not her final answer, Severus realizes with a sinking heart. He cannot deny the penitence, the compassion in Lily's eyes with which she looks at Potter, but never at him, never at Severus.

Yes, Lily says she doesn't want Potter's love, and Lily has told Potter to stay away from her… But Severus knows her words are a sham, because he always knows when Lily is lying.

Lily is lying to herself; she is trying to evade the Inevitable… She is fearful of Potter's intensity, which is new and strange to her. And she is fearful of Potter's effect on her, because only Potter, with his greedy fervour and the raw purity of his emotions, can wring out such passion from kind, sober, patient Lily.

Who else can boast of making Lily lose her temper, who else can boast of making her shout with unfamiliar passion? Who else has ever been able to make her laugh and cry at the same time? Who else, but Potter?

And what has Severus done? He has hastened Lily's journey to surrender; he has hastened her surrender to Potter…

Oh, if only he could rewind the past, undo the done, abolish the night he made Amortentia!

His soliloquy comes to a halt when he encounters the crisp crackle of twigs behind him, and he turns around with an ominous misgiving.

Speak of the devil.

James Potter stands there, looking oddly aloof and detached; not even animosity for Severus can be seen on his blank face.

"You're not supposed to be out of your Dorms at such a time," says Potter, his voice but a ghost of his usual acrid tone.

"I'm not the only one," Severus retorts.

Potter just looks at him with raised eyebrows, but remains silent. Severus feels a fresh surge of hatred for him, and his fists ball up within his robe pockets.

"You were thinking about Lily, weren't you?" asks Potter, after a short tense silence.

And immediately, Severus's fists fall limp to his sides. He is so numb with shock that it takes him a moment to realize the full meaning of what Potter has just said to him.

Potter knows his painful secret.

He knows he knows he knows he knows he knows he knows he knows he knows….

"I know that you'd made Amortentia, but its phial got swapped with my bottle of Firewhiskey that night," says Potter, in an even, emotionless voice. "I know that you'd meant Lily to drink it, but it was me who did so. You see, I found your name inscribed at the base of that phial."

Severus's eyes are tightly shut, and he is shaking. With anger, with despair, with self-hatred.

"I just want you to know that it's OK," says Potter, and nothing can be a worse insult to Severus's honour, nothing can be a more staggering blow to his ego. "I want you to know that I forgive you."

Severus opens his dark, brooding eyes at last, and they are flashing like a falcon's.

"I've done no sin against you, Potter, to make you want to forgive me," he says virulently.

For the first time, an emotion flickers in Potter's hazel eyes—surprise.

"Haven't you got any shame for what you have done?" Potter asks. "You couldn't succeed in making Lily love you, so you decided to use treachery, you made a bloody love potion! Have you no repentance at all? Does it still please you, the idea that you could've made Lily love you against her will, against her better judgment?"

Severus wants to strike, Severus wants to clasp his hands against his ears to break off sound, and Severus wants the earth to swallow him. And all these wishes seem equally unlikely, for in this lifetime, Severus is bound by the debt of life he owes to Potter.

"Lily Evans will never belong to you, Potter!" snarls Severus, even though he knows it's an utter lie. Oh, but anything, anything to cause Potter pain.

Potter sneers at him, a cold cruel sneer, as if he's seeing Severus naked and the sight repulses him.

"She may not belong to me," says Potter, "but she'll never belong to you either."

The truth of Potter's statement is the worst reprimand that Severus could have given himself.

He shakes his head, his teeth clenched.

"I love her," says Severus, still shaking his head. "And I'm not sorry that I tried to gain her love in return. If I--"

Potter's high, cruel laugh spills over the grass like shards of broken glass.

"No, Snape. You are not capable of love, Snape, so stop telling yourself that there's still hope left for you," says Potter, and Severus realizes that the frantic shake of his head was not invisible.

"You don't know what it is to love," grinds out Potter, and Severus starts, because he has heard the pain in Potter's voice for the first time in his life. "When you truly, really love someone, it leaves you powerless, helpless. You are willing to do anything for her sake, you are ready to lay down your life to save the one you love—"

"Are you trying to imply that I can't do the same for Lily?" says Severus, incredulous anger pumping through him. "Because that's just bullshit!"

"Don't talk about love, Snape!" snarls Potter. "It sounds like an insult from your mouth! You wouldn't know the meaning of love even if it hit you in the face with a twelve pound Potions Encyclopedia!

"I've seen you with your mother, Snivellus. I've heard how your father bullies and abuses her… and you… You sit back, and you just let it happen! Your mother—the only person who loves you, unconditionally—and you can't even stand up for her! What do you know of--"

With a yell of rage, Severus grabs hold of James's collar. "Don't you dare talk about my family, Potter!"

Potter shoves Severus away with a mere thrust of his elbow.

"And what about Lily?" asks Potter contemptuously. "How many times have you called her foul names, and publicly humiliated her! How many times have you let your Slytherin cronies pester her? Did you ever help her out? No, you valued your so-called purity of blood and your reputation far too much to protect the girl you love! I can give up the whole world for her, while you can't even speak up for her, and you say that you love her? Oh, for Merlin's sake, Snape!"

Suddenly, Severus doesn't know what to say anymore. He looks away.

"You are either a very bad lover, or you're a coward," says Potter. "And I'm sure you know that too."

Potter's footsteps are nowhere near as loud as the one thought echoing through Severus's mind.

You're a coward, Severus Snape.

You're a coward.

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A/N: Please forgive me for any mistakes that you find in this chapter; I wrote it in a bit of a hurry. You see, I just want to get it over with. It's been on Hiatus far too long. And if the story seems unrealistic, and you don't like the image of an aggressive James Potter, then please tell me so. I'll make the due efforts to correct it.