Spring had come at last. The daffodils blossomed brightly alongside the already ageing snowdrops. The air sang with the gentle promise of warmer weather and Maeve was relieved to have cast off her heavy winter cloak for the freedom of going out without an extra layer over her robes. She meandered down to the enticing grey-blueness of the lake and found that the fresh green of the gently swaying trees revitalized her. Her birthday was about to pass by unnoticed and, strangely enough, she wasn’t too bothered. It was enough just to be alive and breathing in this glorious, invigorating spirit that was the reward for another winter endured.
She sat on a grassy overhang by the water’s edge and allowed her mind to drift beyond the confines of Hogwarts. Flopping back onto the springy ground she flew on wings that allowed her to slip the bonds of reality and float above it all. Her eyelashes closed onto her bright cheeks and she drifted between the two worlds of consciousness and total freedom. She didn’t feel the heaviness of the presence that sat beside her. She didn’t understand the tenderness that infiltrated her dreams as her hair was touched with love. Fingers drew it out and allowed it to fall in rivers of red on the virgin grass. It was only when those fingers ran across her cheek did she wake to the fluttering presence of the world around her. The first thing she saw was Severus’ pale face and her mouth widened in an indulgent smile.
“What are you doing?” she asked gently, propping herself up on her elbows.
“I came to wish you a happy birthday.”
“I thought you didn’t keep birthdays,” she responded, cheekily.
“I don’t keep my own, but that is no reason not to keep yours.” He handed her a small package, wrapped in lilac foil and devotion.
“What’s this?” she laughed. “A present?”
He nodded and she carefully tore apart the folds of the wrap. Inside was an iridescent, curvaceous bottle that had a stopper the colour of the Northern Lights. She glanced at him quickly before pulling the stopper from the bottle and inhaling.
Love collided with the spiralling freedom of her spirit as it escaped the confines of her body. She felt the twisting of the world around her as it stretched to accommodate her heightened awareness. She had never known such an intense sensation as the one she was feeling now as she caressed a few droplets of the liquid onto her wrist. Its scent was indescribable and she knew only one as skilled in Potions as Severus could have created this little piece of perfection.
“You made this?” she asked.
“For you.” He nodded. “Potions doesn’t have to the dry subject everyone perceives it to be,” he answered mildly.
“I know that,” she smiled.
“I wanted to offer you something else,” he said, taking her hand and feeling the small bones bend beneath his own.
“Oh?”
“You….” He hesitated, the words that had seemed so easy earlier now stopped in his throat. “You make me feel that anything is within my reach and on more than one occasion you make me offer up my own life for you. I never realised you could feel that way about another person. My father…” He stopped and she sat up fully at the mention of his father. “My father can’t have felt that way about my mother or he wouldn’t have caused her so much pain. I can’t imagine ever causing you pain. They say that such behaviour is passed down, like father, like son.” He gave a cold grimace. He had to make her understand he was nothing like his father in that respect before he continued with his speech.
She sat up on her knees and reached for him. A gentle touch eased the way for his words as she touched his cold face. The power of the sensation made her almost laugh with joy and she ran a sharp nail along his cheek.
“I know you are not your father, Severus,” she said. “You told me once that you were like him, but really, you are not. You have carried with you his ambition but have left some of his cruelty behind.”
“No, I am cruel,” Severus acknowledged. “I can feel it inside myself like a boil about to erupt. I have to let it out to stop it poisoning me.”
“I won’t deny you have a sharp tongue but real cruelty involves much more than that. You have never hurt anyone, have you?”
He frowned then, this was not what he wanted to be discussing on such a fine, spring day. He had come here with other things on his mind and he did not want to be back with the Death-Eaters. Perhaps one day he would tell her what really happened and the depths to which he had sunk, but not now.
“You told me once that you hated your name,” he said, shifting the subject abruptly back to where he wanted it to be.
“And I do. Everything about it reminds me of the rank stench of my past.”
“I want to offer you mine.”
“What…?”
“Take my name. It’s yours if you want it. What else can I do but offer you my name?”
“Severus?” She looked at him with a questioning look. Her flesh prickled as the implication of what he was saying sank in. Could he possibly be asking her…. Could she be right…? “Is that a proposal?”
“It is,” he replied, looking at her severely.
“Of marriage?” The word marriage came out in a strangulated whisper as her throat dried up.
“Yes,” he nodded. “And your answer?”
“Well, never let it be said you don’t have a way with words. That has to be the strangest proposal of marriage I have ever heard… not that I have heard many.”
“And your answer?” Snape was nervous now. He had never been sure that the answer would be yes and he knew he had placed himself in an extremely vulnerable position if she said no. What was he thinking? Of course she would say no. Why would she want to attach herself to a cantankerous, sarcastic Potions teacher who hated his job and his life with equal alacrity? He stood up, brushing at the front of his robes and she followed the movement quickly.
The trees rustled at them, shaking their newborn leaves in eager anticipation of the birth of something else. The world had slumbered beneath the heavy veil of winter and now, just as nature was re-awakening herself to the promise of a new year so something else budded. The wind sighed softly from the east and brought with it the scents of promise, of new beginnings and hope.
Maeve watched as he began to turn away, reaching out her hand to arrest the movement before it had begun. She squeezed her fingers against his wrist, feeling the blood pulse through his veins in rapid leaps.
“I’ll accept the offer,” she said softly. “But your love is far more important than your name.”
He pressed his lips together in a gesture of relief as she smiled with undisguised pleasure. Something changed in Severus Snape at that moment. He would never have that charisma that his father so wanted for him. He would never be darkly great, nor would he reach the dizzy heights of power that he had once wished for himself. But for the moment he felt he had a prize far more important than any of that. He loved someone and was loved in return. They turned and walked back to Hogwarts with arms entwined, like two trees whose branches have become entangled from standing, rooted together, for so long.
The spirit of spring stirred itself and rose high above the whispering trees and grass. Gentle ripples disturbed the looking-glass lake and its inhabitants as spring flew across the grey surface. The spirit’s work was done as it dipped and sang between the clouds. Its tinkling laughter could be heard in the birdsong that reverberated around the Forbidden Forest as it mocked the modern gods Eros and Cupid. Something far more elemental was needed to bring fire and ice together without melting one or freezing the other and now its work was done.
Maeve and Severus felt it one last time as they stopped on the steps of the main entrance. It flew through them both, making them feel as if their past and future existed in one tumultuous moment. There was no other time and space for either of them but the present and as they turned to enter the school they welcomed their future with hopeful hearts. They forgot, for the time being, the fear and uncertainty that surrounded them. With the sweetness of the moment still on her lips, Maeve turned to Severus.
"Tá grá agam duit," she whispered, her eyes shining.
He looked at her carefully for a few seconds, the unfamiliar language momentarily confusing him, until he looked carefully into her eyes.
"I love you too," he replied.