Hogwarts
Christmas, 1982
Perhaps the most surprising aspect of Hogwarts for Severus was discovering that Albus Dumbledore's company was not entirely tedious.
While the Headmaster had a Gryffindorian fondness for Muggles, pranks, and other such foolishness, and he smiled more than Severus felt was strictly necessary, Dumbledore also happened to be one of the few wizards in the world whom Severus knew for certain was more brilliant than himself, and Severus respected intelligence above all other things. Shockingly, Severus also discovered that, despite their difference in age, they had some things in common: for instance, aside from the obvious fact that they were both skilled Occlumens and Legitimens, they were also intensely private men who were not forthcoming with personal information. And as far as Severus could tell, Dumbledore, like himself, had no close ties to anyone.
Maybe it's better that way. Over the last year Severus had decided that nothing was worse than losing a beloved, and perhaps Dumbledore had learned that lesson too.
At any rate, Dumbledore from time to time would invite Severus to his chambers, where more often than not they would spend a not unpleasant evening playing wizard chess. The first time Dumbledore had extended the invitation-as they passed each other on the way out of the Hall on Halloween night after the feast-Severus had been taken by surprise, and he'd replied "Is there a problem, Headmaster?" for he could not imagine any reason why Dumbledore would wish to meet with him in private, unless it was regarding something dire.
"Not at all," Dumbledore had smiled in response, his eyes twinkling over his half-moon spectacles. "Merely a game of wizard chess perhaps, and a glass or two of mead."
Severus had been curious despite himself, for as a student he'd never gotten the impression that Dumbledore much cared for him, even less so when Severus was a Death Eater. But too much smiling or not, Dumbledore, like any intelligent person, sometimes craved intelligent conversation, and Severus knew that of all the faculty and staff at Hogwarts, he himself was the only one who came even remotely close to Dumbledore's intellectual level.
Severus certainly hoped Dumbledore wasn't inviting him out of pity. Nothing offended Severus more than having someone feel sorry for him. He didn't want anyone's comfort, particularly since no comfort was to be had.
But it turned out to be exactly as Dumbledore said, a game of wizard chess and mead (which Severus politely but firmly declined) and an illuminating conversation about the various Hogwarts symbols: the sword of Gryffindor, the cup of Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw's lost diadem, and the Slytherin locket. Not too many people knew about these items, but Dumbledore did. And Severus ended up staying so long in Dumbledore's chambers that he went to bed many hours later than he normally would have.
Since then Dumbledore had invited Severus to his chambers a little over a half a dozen times, and each evening proceeded much like the others.
On this particular night however, after Severus had to endure the Christmas feast and all the foolishness associated with it (including having to sit next to a bilious Hagrid whose gaseous emissions almost caused Severus to be sick), Dumbledore did not summon the chess set as usual, but merely leaned back in his customary chair with a smile.
"Headmaster?" Severus asked, puzzled.
"I thought perhaps a chat tonight, instead of a game," Dumbledore replied pleasantly.
Instantly Severus was on his guard. He never trusted anyone who wanted merely to "chat," least of all someone like Dumbledore.
"About what, exactly, Sir?" Severus asked warily.
"How you're enjoying your time at Hogwarts so far," Dumbledore said. "I trust you find everything to your satisfaction?"
Severus raised his eyebrows, nodded imperceptibly.
"Excellent. And Potions? You enjoy teaching it, do you?" But Dumbledore's tone told Severus that Dumbledore already had a fair idea of what the answer was.
"'Enjoy' seems to be a favorite word of yours," Severus observed neutrally.
"Well of course it is!" Dumbledore smiled. "Enjoyment is one of the loftier goals in life, wouldn't you agree, Mr. Snape?"
Severus grew impatient. It must have shown on his face, however, since Dumbledore suddenly laughed.
"I expect you don't enjoy much, do you, Severus?" Dumbledore said after he'd recovered from his mirth. "That's a shame. Perhaps if you'd consider going to Zonko's when you're in Hogsmeade, or brightening up your wardrobe a bit-nothing as drastic as red, I'd say, but maybe a bit of green to start with, we don't want to be too rash-"
"I'll not waste my time with such foolishness, thank you very much," Severus replied tersely, to which Dumbledore clapped his hands together with approval.
"Now that's more like it, Severus! I prefer your snappish ways to the cold politeness you've shown me ever since..."
Severus waited, but Dumbledore didn't continue, and Severus knew why.
With a tremendous effort, Severus swallowed the anguish that rose up in him at the memory of that fatal night when he'd come to Hogwarts a broken man and had sobbed like a child in Dumbledore's presence. And then, the cold rage of offended pride took the place of anguish, and Severus hissed like a serpent "And so you bring up such things to bait me, do you? For what reason, might I ask? Because you 'enjoy' seeing me suffer? You won't be the first."
His target hit the mark; Dumbledore's face was crossed with an expression that on another man might have looked like conscience, but then Dumbledore shook his head slowly, and said in a quiet voice "No, Severus, I do not want to see you suffer. But I want even less to see you an empty shell. Even grief is preferable to feeling nothing."
"And you would know from experience?" Severus asked coldly.
"I would," Dumbledore replied.
Severus turned away from him, gazed out the window at the soft snowflakes blurring the night sky.
"What does it matter to you," Severus said wearily after a time.
"Strange as it may seem, I consider you a friend."
"A friend," Severus spat as though the word had a foul taste. "Where was that 'friendship' while Potter and his gang nearly led me to my demise?"
"You weren't a pleasant child, Severus," Dumbledore now replied coolly. "And you were even less pleasant as a teen. But you are different now than you were back then. Quite different, I should say."
Severus clenched his teeth in anger. Of course he was different now! How could Dumbledore expect him not to be! He'd seen, he'd known, he'd witnessed what Lily's death had done to him! Was he mad?
"Are you mad?" Severus asked venomously. To his annoyance Dumbledore merely chuckled in response, then said "Many have asked that question before you, Severus. And I'm quite delighted to tell you that the answer is: I'm not certain."
"I believe I'll retire now," Severus said at last, moving toward the door. "Good evening, Headmaster." He wasn't the least bit tired yet, but he wasn't about to stand there and endure Dumbledore's caprice for another minute.
However, the staircase had just begun to take him down when a shadow loomed over him, and he looked up to see Dumbledore standing there at the top of the staircase.
"When I'd said you were unpleasant, Severus," Dumbledore's voice floated down to him as the stairs carried him lower and lower, "I meant that you were unpleasant to most. There must have been something else to you-something extraordinary-for a girl like Lily Evans to have loved you as she did."
By the time Severus's mind was able to absorb these words, Dumbledore was gone, and the stone gargoyle had already leapt aside and was waiting impatiently for Severus to pass.
Instead of moving toward the dungeons however, he fled, quiet as shadows, through the castle to the great main doors. Out he went into the silent snow, the crescent moon hanging from the sky bearing a faint light onto the drifts that was more of a glow than a radiance, but it lit his way well enough to the edge of the lake.
Severus gazed down though the limp strands of his hair to the black waters of the half-frozen lake, his feet growing numb from the six inches of snow he stood in but he didn't care. For, it seemed to him that deep beneath the black ice he detected something gleam with a misty shimmer, something that swirled like quicksilver for a moment before it resolved itself into...
But no, too late, it was gone.
"We shouldn't be out here."
"Bother what we ''shouldn't' do, haven't you had enough of rules already?"
"But what if we get caught? We could end up in detention, or worse!"
"I thought you were the Gryffindor, not me."
"All right then, Mr. Smarty-pants! Fine. But if we get in trouble..."
"...I'll tell Dumbledore that I Imperius'd you to come out here, so the blame will all be on me."
"What's Imperius'd?"
"A curse to make someone do what you want."
When Severus received no answer, he turned round to find Lily had stopped walking and was standing there staring at him with an expression of sorrow on her face.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Severus," she replied quietly. "Have you ever done that spell?"
"Of course not!" Severus replied. "It takes loads of skill to cast that curse, and I'm just a second-year!"
"You don't mean that," Lily said, taking a step toward him and plucking at his sleeve. "You don't mean you'd cast it if you could."
When Severus didn't reply, she sighed, grabbed his arm.
"Promise me, Severus," she whispered. "Promise me you'll never cast that spell. It's a horrible thing to do to someone."
And the way her pale skin in the moonlight glowed with a strange phosphorescence as though she were but a ghost, he almost promised her what she wanted.
As it was, the hoot of an owl interrupted them, and they both started back in fear until they glanced each other and smiled sheepishly.
"Just an owl, see?" Severus said, reaching his hand out to her. "It's all right. Come along then."
He led her to the edge of the lake, where they looked down at the ice that bordered the silent banks, her hand still in his.
"What do you want me to see?" she asked.
"Nothing special. Just..." He gestured with his other hand to the lake, to the surrounding land where their footprints left a track in the pure smooth snow, to the sharp points of stars up above them. "It's so quiet, isn't it? Almost like we were the only two people in the world."
Lily shivered a little at that. "I wouldn't like that, would you? How lonely it would be."
Severus repressed a sigh, thought to himself How lonely it is, otherwise.
"But," she added, nodding firmly, "If I had to be stuck with just one person in all the world, it'd be you."
Her little hand tightly gripped his own, and Severus decided when they got married, they'd do it here, so that she could say that again, for all time.