Memories, memories and blood, poured out of Severus Snape as he lay, broken, on the Shrieking Shack floor. Many of them, so many of them - the most important ones - were going to him. To the boy, the Potter boy. But some of them were for him, for Severus. Some of them were to keep . . .
He was eleven. He was huddled in a dark corner, the dark corner he’d been in so many times before. The corner he went to whenever his father was drunk and his parents were fighting. The corner he went to every day. They were screaming at each other so loudly and fiercely that Severus could not make out the words. Across the street, a baby wailed. A dog howled. Under the cover of all the noise, Severus whimpered. Pull yourself together,he told himself sternly. What are you, a pansy? Only a pansy would whimper like that, for all the world to hear. Biting his shaking lip, Severus thought, just one more month. One more month, and I’m out of here.
But knowing there was only one more month to endure wasn’t enough. Severus needed an escape. He crept out of his bedroom and pressed himself against the wall. The shouting was deafening now. Severus saw his father raise his hand in one swift motion. He saw his mother wince. Severus closed his eyes and his ears. And then he ran.
He ran past the broken down houses of his neighborhood, of Spinners’ End, to the well-kept lawns and homes of Little Whinging. He didn’t stop running until he was at the playground. A mother pulled her little boy away from him, Severus, in his enormous black overcoat. A gaggle of girls his age pointed and laughed, and Severus was reminded forcefully of Petunia, her sister.
Severus looked around the playground, at the swings and the monkey bars. He collapsed with disappointment. He’d allowed himself to hope. He’d allowed himself to hope that she’d be here. That’s why hope is for idiots, Severus reprimanded himself. He sank to the ground and wrapped his bony arms around his knobby knees.
“Sev!” a voice said from behind him.
He whirled around. Was it -? It was. It was her. It was Lily. Her hair was plaited in pigtails and she was smiling. Smiling for him!
“Sev! Can you believe it?! Just one more month! Exactly one month!” Lily cried, doing a little dance. But then her smile faded. “Sev! Are you all right? Oh!” Lily sat down beside him and put a tentative hand on his arm. “Oh, Sev. Are they fighting again?”
Severus hated himself for having caused her smile to disappear. But he couldn’t bring himself to lie to her. “Yes,” he admitted. But he bravely added, “But you’re right! Just one more month!”
Lily met his gaze with her almond shaped eyes. She seemed to know he didn’t want to talk. “Just one more month, Sev. Just one more month.”
It was a warm day, a sunny day, and Lily stretched like a cat on the grassy field. Severus lay down too, and they were head to head. Dark black hair wove together with auburn. Lily dozed off, but Severus stayed awake. He didn’t move. He didn’t want to wake her. So he just stayed and watched her peaceful smile out of the corner of his eye . . .
He was thirteen. It was two summers later. He was at the same park, sitting on a swing. She was swinging beside him. It was twilight, and the street lights were flickering on. During the summer holidays, he spent his days at this park. Sometimes his nights, too. Sometimes it was miserable. But not when Lily was beside him.
It was dark, and his foot clumsily bumped hers. His face reddened. Her foot clumsily bumped his. A pretty blush crept up her cheeks . . .
It was back to reality. Life was seeping out of him with the blood and the memories. The pain rushed upon him after his momentary escape. Severus cast vainly around his mind, searching desperately for another memory to bring him peace . . .
It was the second day of the O.W.L.s the fifth years were exhausted, with great big bags under their eyes. They trudged in a stupor towards the various examination rooms. He was walking with her though. Severus didn’t care that he’d had three hours of sleep the night before. he didn’t care that he was wearing last years robes and that they were inches too short for him. He didn’t care that he hadn’t had time to wash his hair that morning. He was walking with her.
“So ... d’you think you’re ready?” he asked, cursing himself for not thinking of something better and more interesting to say. Would Potter have said something better? The thought came, unbidden, to his head, and he cursed wherever it had came from.
“Oh! Um, I suppose so,” Lily murmured distractedly.
He was losing her! He had to - he had to what? He had to keep talking. He had to -
Before he knew what had happened, he was reaching out. He was reaching out for her hand! Lily looked down, surprised. For a moment, for a long and terrible moment, she did nothing. And then she smiled. She smiled and she took his hand.
It was the happiest moment of Severus Snape’s life.
And then there were catcalls, and a terrible and familiar laugh. Severus Snape whirled around.
“Sev -” Lily breathed, not letting go of his hand.
It was them. That small, watery-eyed boy. The werewolf. The source of the laughter - Sirius Black. And him. But something was different. Potter wasn’t joining in the laughter and the jeering. There was horrified shock on his face as he looked at Severus’s hand interwoven with Lily’s.
Severus straightened his shoulders and his step had newfound swagger.
It was the second-happiest moment of Severus Snape’s life.
And then it ended. Looking back, he should have known. He should have known that happiness never lasted. Not for him . . .
The Prince's Other Tales by SnapeAlways
Chapter Notes: This is my tribute to Severus Snape and its also my first fan fic. Obviously, anything that you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling.