Final Moments - Snape POV
A companion fic to ‘Final Goodbye’, but can be read as a standalone.

A/N: ‘Final Goodbye’ was a challenge response from the 30minutemuse LJ community. Unfortunately, I went 15 minutes over for this fic, ending at 45 minutes. Reviews are good for the soul!

***

She backs away, clutching the prize in her left hand. Part of you is immensely proud; you spent weeks talking to every single one of your contacts to help get her in a year earlier than she would have normally been allowed. The most prestigious wizarding institution in the world, who have never taken a student without a at least a year of ‘work experience’, and she will be going a month after leaving Hogwarts.

You can read her emotions, probably before she can recognize them. She’s excited, you think, because this is what she wants. You can tell she’s also sad. But she’s young. She’ll meet someone else, and move on.

You try your hardest to keep the pain off your face, but it takes almost too much effort, and you know she can see it.

She tries to speak, but she doesn’t have to. You already know what she will say. Something along the lines of an apology for leaving, or a soppy declaration of love, or some other such rubbish that you’re not sure you can bear to hear, but almost need to.

You know you’re not standing as gracefully as usually, and it is only confirmed when she tells you that you look defeated. It doesn’t suit you, she gently teases.

The comment makes you smile, and you can almost see her eyes sparkle.

It wouldn’t have worked between us, you whisper. And it’s true. There are too many factors to consider, too many problems you would have encountered by staying together. Voldemort, the age difference, her friends... and these are only the most obvious. Less obvious is the knowledge that you don’t deserve her. She’s too young to know what she wants, and when she finally figures it out, what she wants will not be you.

She takes a step closer to you, so close that you can smell her shampoo. Cupping your cheek with her free hand, she whispers that it may have worked. It might still. Someday.

You don’t hold out hope, but an admittance of your lack of faith is not what the situation requires. So you sigh, and the corner of your mouth quirks almost imperceptibly. Perhaps, you whisper back.

She’s staring at what you realize is a soft smile on your face, as if she’s trying to memorize every detail of it. As if she’ll never see it again. Which, you muse, she may not. She is the only one who can pull such a smile from you, and you can’t help but feel that, without her, you’ll never smile again.

The clock on the mantle across from you slowly ticks, and you realize that this is truly it. You spent years in some of the most dangerous, horrifying situations imaginable, but you’ve never been more terrified than in this moment. She made you live, instead of merely exist, and when she leaves you, you’re not sure what you’ll do.

But you have to let her go. You’d better go, you say. The three hardest words you’ve ever uttered. You remind her that the train will leave soon, and she can’t miss it.

You can almost see a tear in her eye, though she’s making a valiant effort to control it. She nods, and reaches up to give you the most bittersweet kiss in the history of the world. You haven’t collected yourself before she’s lightly touching your fingertips and turning away from you.

She leaves without looking back.

You stand still for nearly five minutes before the realization that she’s really gone catches up to you. You let out a harsh breath as someone knocks on your door. It’s the Headmaster, and you don’t bother to hide the disappointment you feel that it wasn’t her.

You don’t speak to, or look at, the older wizard. He’s down here for a reason, and he’ll break the silence first. He always does.

Long minutes pass, with him studying you, and you studying the fire. You’ve almost forgotten his presence when you feel a hand on your shoulder.

She may yet come back, he says, before leaving you alone again.

It isn’t until the door shuts that you look up.

She won’t, you murmur. She won’t.