Hi everyone, we're nearing the end here. There will be two more chapters after this one. It's fewer chapters than I had anticipated, but the same word count I'd planned: 30,000 words or so. I'd just consolidated some of the smaller chapters into fewer but larger ones.
This one covers the events in Order of the Phoenix. The next two chapters will cover Half Blood Prince, and Deathly Hallows, respectively. The epilogue will be at the end of the Deathly Hallows chapter. Thanks everyone for reading.
"There's Toerag again."
"Hm."
"Oh, isn't that curious. He seems to be following us. And his mates, of course. Is Sirius-is Sirius seriously pissing in the snow?"
"Hmph."
"Toerag's looking at you right now. You know, Sev, I would almost seem to think he fancies you."
"Lily!"
"Oh there, he's bouncing that Snitch against Pettigrew's head again. That's not nice. He's so horrible. Sev. You should see how he behaves in the common room. You'd think he was the Prime Minister."
"Don't know why you notice Potter at all, Lily."
"Me? You're the one always going on about him."
"I didn't even say a word about him today."
"So?"
"So? So! So you fancy him! Admit it! You fancy James Potter!"
"No I don't! Why do you keep accusing me of that?"
"Because I've seen you. I've seen your eyes, Lily, when he's by. I've seen the way you-the way you LOOK at him."
"You're wrong! I hate him! Do you think I could possibly fancy anyone who is so horrible to us?"
"Horrible to me, maybe. Not to you."
"Well, you're wrong! He teases me constantly! He won't leave me alone! Oh Sev, why weren't you sorted into Gryffindor, too?"
It was strange, to have the sorting issue framed in this way, and it made him forget all about Potter for a moment. Since their first year, Severus had wondered why Lily hadn't been sorted into Slytherin. Not once had he asked himself why he hadn't been sorted into Gryffindor. Perhaps because he knew he'd have never ended up there, not in a thousand lifetimes.
But, if he were honest with himself, he'd also known from the very beginning that Lily would never be sorted into Slytherin, either.
So how were they friends, then?
"I don't know," Severus said at last, staring down at the snow that covered Hogsmeade lane.
"Well," Lily said firmly, taking Severus's hand. "Let's not fret about it now. O.W.L.s are coming up soon, and I want to have fun before then. Let's have a drink."
"The Three Broomsticks is this way," Severus pointed out as Lily led them in the wrong direction.
"To hell with that, I want a firewhiskey," Lily hissed, pulling him along toward the Hog' s Head Inn. "Also," she added, a wicked smile on her face, "the Marauders won't be there, nor any of the professors, and we can get as stinking as we want without anyone carrying tales."
"Lily!"
"Shhhh," she giggled, then drew her arms around him snugly.
"What are you doing?" he rasped into her knitted hat.
"Toerag's watching! He hates when we hug, you know."
Severus glanced over her head-and sure enough, Potter was gaping at them with an expression that made Severus smirk. Severus pointedly put his arms around her and held her close, taking shameless advantage of his "best-friend" privilege. He was certain that Potter's face had turned green. He himself, in contrast, stirred with a hot, secret thrill as she pressed herself against him. Merlin's beard, he would have to make sure to find some time alone tonight...
"Bloody hell," Severus muttered when he saw the nefarious gang make a beeline toward them.
"What?" She asked, looking up, then glancing in the direction of his frown.
"Oh bloody hell," she echoed. "I don't want them bothering us. Let's go," she said, tugging on his green mitten, which still fit-advanced magic, indeed-and which still...
...Which still, to this day, was as warm as toast around his normally frigid fingers, beneath the cowls of his sober sleeves, beneath the sheath of his proper cloak, beneath the layer of snow falling over him as he silently strode toward Hogsmeade with the students in tow, his eyes, watchful for any hint of his ancient enemy's son, veiled to all, and to all as dead as the grave.
January, 1996
"Severus, check."
"I think not, Albus. Rather, you are in check, I'm afraid." Severus pointed to the incriminating piece on the board. Beneath his sleeve, Severus could feel the mark on his arm radiate with heat, as it had ever since Voldemort returned. Severus saw Dumbledore's eye flit to his sleeve briefly, then back to the board.
"Oh," Dumbledore said. "Perhaps you're right then." Albus leaned back in his chair, smiled at Severus with something like paternal pride.
"You've taken to warning your enemies then, have you," Dumbledore observed over his spectacles.
"I only warn friends," Severus replied coldly.
"So you do." Dumbledore leaned forward, placed his hand on Severus's own. "You are...remarkable, Severus."
"Indeed," Severus replied, drawing his hand away. "I can't imagine why you'd think so. After all these years," he added acidly, despite himself.
Dumbledore nodded, pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. His eyes, shatteringly blue, were far younger than his years.
"I know how much you despise the boy," Dumbledore said. "And yet, no one, save his mother, could have protected him as stalwartly as you have."
In rare moments, Dumbledore would open his mind to Severus-as much as he'd allow, anyway-and they could communicate without the awkwardness of words. There was a difficulty in this, however, since while Severus was confident in what he knew was impossible to share, he was more doubtful about that which was permissible. And those grey areas were Dumbledore's forte, as Severus had learned long ago.
After that strange, mutual struggle, Severus stared straight into Dumbledore's eyes, glad that every ounce of him that mattered was stored amid cold bottles within his chambers.
"I think, Severus," Dumbledore said after a time, tapping Severus's hand with pointy fingers, "I think I'll keep the Pensieve with you for now."
"Why is that, Albus," Severus murmured.
Albus smiled at him, tilted his head, but said nothing as he stood up, the phoenix clattering onto Dumbledore's shoulder as the Headmaster made his retreat.
"Don't assume so much, Headmaster," Severus murmured silkily.
At this, Dumbledore turned around, and gave Severus the expression Severus was expecting to see. The phoenix chortled, but Dumbledore hushed it, even as he kept his surprised gaze on Severus.
Then Dumbledore sighed, and his shoulders relaxed, causing the phoenix to stretch its wings, and find its perch again behind Dumbledore's desk.
"That is why," Dumbledore said at last, bowing to Severus.
"I don't understand."
"But you will, eventually. And when you do...Forgive me, Severus. In the end, forgive me for what I didn't do, as much as for what I've done. Good night, Severus." Albus bowed again, turned away, the phoenix once more on his shoulder, as precariously balanced as virtue.
June, 1996
Another semester over-another semester fraught with difficulty, and yes, even death. One more Marauder down, though the one whom Severus truly wished to die was now in Voldemort's protection. That odious creature Umbridge had finally flown the castle, though unfortunately Severus was certain it wouldn't be the last they'd heard of her.
After Severus packed up his chambers for the summer, he unlocked the Pensieve from its cabinet, to return to Dumbledore before Severus went back to Spinner's End the next day. As was the case of late, the Pensieve had been often in Severus's keeping, after he was assigned the unenviable and fruitless task of teaching the Potter boy Occlumency.
At first, it had been an interesting experiment, despite the boy's obstinance and typical Gryffindorian lack of subtlety. Seeing glimpses of Potter's life so vividly, seeing the brutal conditions in which Lily's sister had raised him, was both shocking but also unsurprising to Severus. But it gave Severus a grim pleasure to know that the boy had experienced such misery-misery akin to Severus's own harsh upbringing, in fact. And yet, strangely, it might have made Severus take pity on the boy, had it not been for other memories Severus had uncovered in Potter's mind. Particularly, those regarding his parents, especially the images within the Mirror, and the moving photographs. For there, within those flickering shadows, Potter's father embraced Potter's mother as though he owned her-and no, James, you never did. No one could, you know, you arrogant bastard.
Severus remembered once that Dumbledore had warned him that for his own sake he should put aside his hatred for James. That proved to be true in the instance where Severus's rage had been so violent that he'd lost control, and Potter breached his Occlumency for a brief moment. It unnerved Severus, especially given what Potter had seen. Severus should have never allowed Potter to know what his home life had been like. No doubt the nasty brat would waste no time in spreading ugly tales about Severus, just like his father would have.
However. HOWEVER. That was nothing, nothing at all in comparison to the fact that the boy had seen...that while Severus was gone, the boy had looked into the Pensieve, and had seen. No, nothing, nothing could ever make Severus forgive the boy for that. Nothing. He couldn't even be moved to pity Potter for his godfather's death, even if Severus and Black had hated each other with a severity as cold as a blizzard. If Severus could, he would discharge his duty to protect the boy forthwith.
But he could not. Stronger than his promise to Dumbledore was his private oath to Lily's ghost that the boy shall not be harmed. Should there be a life after this one (which Severus greatly doubted but hoped for nevertheless), he could not bear to face her, and let her know he'd failed her again.
In the end, Severus was relieved that the boy had not errantly witnessed any of Severus's more precious memories. To have them viewed by another would have tainted them like a fingerprint on wax.
As Severus gazed down at the shimmering surface of the Pensieve, he knew why Dumbledore had let it remain in Severus's chambers, even outside of Potter's Occlumency lessons. He knew that Dumbledore had seen the toll it was taking on Severus to be always in the presence of Black and Lupin (just because it turned out that the wretched cur wasn't Lily's traitor after all didn't mean that Severus liked him any better), to also be always in the presence of Lord Voldemort, having to live an existence of lies to all but Dumbledore himself-Dumbledore knew, as sure as Severus did, that if Severus were to continue, he required something to remind him why he was enduring all this in the first place.
Therefore, before Severus returned the Pensieve to Dumbledore, he decided to make one last journey. Where shall he travel to, tonight? So many of his sweetest memories were also laced with bitterness. Perhaps it's best to go earliest, before Hogwarts, when she was his and his alone. Back then, their encounters had been nothing but pure happiness for him. Astonishingly, the young Severus had actually believed it would last. The elder Severus, however, knew that nothing lasted, except grief.
Perhaps...perhaps this one, Severus mused as he reached for a translucent vial that radiated a wintry light. It contained the memory of the first hug he'd ever received from her. He felt he needed one, tonight. After all, Severus Snape was many things to many people, but in the end, he was only a man.
"SEVERUS!" Her yell echoed through the snowy playground, and Severus smirked to himself as he watched her fairly fly across the park to where he sat on the swings. "I GOT IT!"
In her hand she was waving a piece of parchment, exactly similar to the one he had received on his own eleventh birthday. In a way, he'd been more excited about her letter than his.
"I told you," Severus said smugly as she plopped down on the swing next to him, her face flushed almost as pink as her hat. "Did they send someone too?"
"They did!" Lily said breathlessly. "A big tall woman-a witch, Sev!-with a pointed hat, even! And she wore glasses, and said she was a professor at the school-but oh dear, Mummy and Dad were so knocked up about it! They'd always suspected, you know, but to be told for certain their daughter's a witch!" Lily cackled merrily, waved the letter in his face.
"Let me see it," he said, snatching it out of her hand. For a moment they sat reading her letter, but then, at the same time, they both looked up at each other, smiled broadly.
"It's really going to happen, isn't it?" Lily asked, her eyes sparkling emerald.
"It really is," Severus replied, his grin wide, his usual reserve completely gone.
"Oh!" And before Severus knew what was what, her arms were around him, and he had inhaled a mouthful of her hair. He felt his face burn with a surprised joy, but also with embarrassment, lest he smelled unwashed. But she didn't seem to mind if he did, for she clutched him harder, laughed so loud in his ear he thought maybe he'd go deaf, but he didn't care.
"Oh!" she repeated, squeezing him again then letting him go. Then "I'm sorry, am I being silly? Do you think I'm a silly girl?"
"You're always a silly girl," Severus answered primly, hoping his blush wasn't too pronounced. Seeing her face fall, he added "But of course I like it when you're a silly girl," feeling his blush grow hotter.
"Do you?" She smiled wickedly at him, then hugged him again. "Ha!" she chirped. "Now I know what to do if I ever want to make you blush."
"You're very naughty, Lily Evans," Severus replied, recovering his dignity a little, though he still felt cheerily warmed by her embrace. He couldn't remember the last time he'd received a hug from anyone. Had he ever?
"Always the tone of surprise," she rejoined, her smile mischievous. "I bet I'm naughtier than you, Severus."
"Oh, really?"
"Yes!"
"You seem very proud of it."
"Want me to show you?" She dug into her coat pocket then, pulled out something round and crumbly.
"We're not supposed to have them till tea, but I nicked them from the kitchen as Professor Mc-Professor McGonagall was speaking to my parents," Lily explained, handing a biscuit to Severus. "I thought we needed to celebrate, don't you?"
"I do," Severus agreed, pulling something from his own pocket and handing it to her.
"Severus, where did you get it?" Lily asked in awe as she gazed down at the great chocolate bar in her mittens.
"I have my ways," Severus said evasively. Lily wasn't the only one who "nicked" things, though Severus's source was the corner store in his neighborhood. He mostly did it out of necessity, when no one at home remembered to go to the market or cook him a meal, so it was either steal or starve to death. As a wizard he had a rather unfair advantage, but the shop owner was a mean Muggle who'd always looked cockeyed at Severus anyway, so Severus didn't feel bad for doing it.
They sat on the swings munching happily on their treats, chattering about what was in store for them at Hogwarts. For the first time in his eleven years, Severus knew with absolute certainty that his life was going to be extraordinary. How could it not be? He was going to Hogwarts, he'd be sorted into Slytherin, the best House in the school-he knew he would be!-and his best friend, the loveliest, nicest, keenest witch in the world, would be with him. With such prospects, how could he not feel a little giddy? Before he had time to question himself, he leaned forward and belatedly returned Lily's hug, whispering in her ear "I'm very glad, Lily."
"Me too, Sev," she whispered in reply, squeezing him back. "Me, too."