Severus Snape’s life ended the minute he woke up on December 1 to remember that he had not always been Severus Snape. He had once been Marisa Coulter, brilliant experimental theologian, head of the General Oblation Board of London, traitor to the authority, and the mother to Lyra Silvertounge. And here he thought it wasn’t possible to hate himself anymore. Herself? She certainly felt more like Marisa than Severus. She had Severus’ memories but the person she had been only yesterday felt a million miles away. Overnight, a thick pane of glass had slid into place between her and the rest of this strange world. She did not belong here. She had never really belonged anywhere… except with Lyra… Lyra. No. She couldn’t think about Lyra. But she couldn’t make herself think of anything but Lyra. So she decided to think of nothing at all.
The next few days passed in a haze. Marisa ate at the staff table, taught classes, took points, and went about daily life but her brain didn’t record any of it. Minerva started to watch her more at meals but blissfully, she didn’t say anything. Marisa’s head constantly felt heavy and filled with cotton, the real world feeling a million miles away, but no matter how hard she tried to focus on the present, it still felt like a dream. It had been years since Marisa had gone away like this. Years since she had been unable to ignore the part of her that was constantly screaming and clawing at her insides. No matter what she did, she couldn’t make it stop. She felt like she was a whorl of anger and pain, ripping and tearing at anything it could. She couldn’t let it out, so it ripped and tore at her.
Oh.
She didn’t have an external daemon anymore. She couldn’t let out the rage on him nor he on her. Either would have worked, even if she tended to do the former more as an adult. Instead, she had to wait until the door to her quarters closed behind her at the end of the day to scream, tear at her hair, and claw her arms. It was never enough.
She needed that deep pain, the kind that pierced your very soul and eclipsed all other things. But that kind of pain tended to do severe and lasting damage. Without a Daemon, she had to settle for other methods of release.
Slowly, more of the staff and even the students took notice of her deadened state. The worst was when she had just destroyed her classroom after dinner only to turn around and see the Devil Twins staring at her agape. She hadn’t even noticed them. She hadn’t locked or warded the door. She had forgotten she’d assigned them detention earlier that morning.
“Get out.” She growled in her iciest voice. They did as she ordered, practically tripping over themselves to leave. The rush of fear and embarrassment at being caught uncontrolled was almost enough to pierce through the fog in her head. Certainly, it was the most present she had been as of late.
Looking around the destroyed classroom, she was dimly aware that she barely remembered doing it. It felt like someone else had done it. What was she thinking? This will take so much work to repair. Potions equipment can’t be fixed with merely a wave of a wand. Not unless you were prepared for the potential interactions that magic would have on any given potion. Definitely not an option in a classroom of dunderheaded students who would put celery in a potion if you told them to add a newt. Marisa kicked a shard of crystal across the floor. Those phials alone would cost a pretty penny to replace.
Sighing, she set about repairing the room.
______
Minerva accosted Marisa the next morning as she left her quarters to go to breakfast.
“Severus, I hate to intrude on you like this, I know you like your privacy but-- I’ve tried to give you space and things have only gotten worse. What is going on with you?” She looked at Marisa imploringly, taking her potion-stained hands in her lined ones, “Please, as your friend, talk to me.”
Marisa was so caught off guard, she retreated further into her mind, calling up an old mask instinctively. She gave Minerva her most charming yet bashful smile, “Oh, that’s very sweet of you but nothing is wrong. I just have a lot on my mind, you know how it is.” Minerva blinked and opened her mouth but Marisa didn’t give her time to respond, “Thank you for your concern, now, If you’ll excuse me, I do believe breakfast is calling me.” She pushed past a stunned Minerva, forgetting the interaction within minutes.
___
“And then he beamed at me and said breakfast is calling me!” Minerva cried in disbelief in the staff room that evening. She and some of the others had finally gathered up the confidence to intervene in whatever Severus was going through. They had agreed to let her try talking to him one on one first before debriefing tonight.
“He beamed at you?” Fillius asked.
“Yes.” Minerva plopped into an armchair, “Seeing such a disarming smile on his face was more disturbing than I want to admit,” she grumbled.
“Hmm, I don’t remember him ever behaving in such a way in school. Do either of you?” Pomona asked the room.
“No. Should we go to Albus? Maybe he will know something,” Minerva suggested.
“For all we know, it’s one of Albus’ schemes that got him like this,” Filius replied.
“Do we think it’s at all possible that he’s been cursed? Perhaps imperio? Or even replaced with someone using polyjuice,” Pomona burst out suddenly.
“I don’t think he’s been replaced,” Minerva began cautiously, “An imposter would put more effort into appearing normal. A curse though…” She trailed off. It was a definite possibility. In all honesty, it might even be preferable because that would give her something to fight, an easy solution to help her friend get back to normal. It still struck her as strange sometimes, the friendship the two of them had developed in the decade he had been teaching. Regardless, Severus Snape had become one of her closest friends and she would be damned if she wasn’t going to fight for him.
_____
Albus Dumbledore had patted himself on the back when the idea to use the mirror to hide the Philosopher's Stone had occurred to him. He had almost thrown himself a party when he figured out the rest of the plan. Giving Harry the invisibility cloak, introducing him to Hagrid, and making sure Hagrid knew enough about the stone to pique the child’s interest, ensuring that he and his friends would be able to get past the defenses guarding the stone, and of course, placing the mirror of Erised where Harry would find it. He had even put a slight compulsion charm on the door. Weak enough that most adults would walk right by it but strong enough that a curious child would be taken in by it and feel the need to explore.
He was not patting himself on the back now. He had felt the wards around the room trigger and had made his way down to the room. But it was not young Harry staring into the mirror but another boy, one he had failed so long ago. One he kept failing it seemed.
Severus Snape knelt in front of the mirror, one hand to the glass, tears streaming down his face. His body shook with silent sobs.
“...Severus,” Severus flinched but said nothing. Albus took a tentative step closer.
“I’m so sorry my boy, I never thought you would find the mirror”
“Go away Albus,” Severus said weakly
“Come now, Severus, you have classes to teach.”
“She’s gone, Albus. She’s gone and I’m never going to see her again. I’m never going to get to apologize--” His voice broke. “It’s my fault, I as good as killed her.”
Dumbledore sighed heavily and moved to stand behind Severus. He caught Ariana’s eye in the mirror. “I- Believe it or not, I do know what you’re going through, Severus. But time marches on and you just have to hope that they’ll be there when the time comes.”
“Hmm,” Severus hummed absently, as if he was humoring Albus. They sat in silence for several long breaths before Severus spoke. Before he spoke words that Albus would never be able to unhear.
“Did you know that I was twelve when I first tried to kill myself?” Albus started.
“My b--”
“I’d forgotten,” Severus continued, ignoring him. “There’s so much that I’d forgotten,” he muttered to himself. Then, louder, “I’m not going to see her when I die, Albus. She already defeated death. No. I’ll just be in purgatory until I decide to be…nothing.” He stared into the glass, “Probably won’t take me very long, I’ve never been particularly strong-willed,” Severus’ voice hitched.
“My boy,” Albus begins again, more cautiously this time. “What exactly do you see?”
Severus was quiet for so long that Albus began to wonder if he had heard him. He was about to repeat the question when Severus finally said, “I have nothing, Albus. Nothing left,” He chuckled softly, fondly, and Albus felt his concern grow. “Your flimsy attempts to make me hold onto this life through Lily’s Sacrifice… I’m afraid they’re not enough. No,” He said wryly, “I know what love is Albus. And while I cared for Lily, this is- this hurts so much more.”
Albus feels his world tilt slightly. He had felt confident in this, at least. That Severus Snape loved Lily, that what he desired most would have something to do with her. Certainly, this conversation had seemed to fit Lily perfectly.
“Who do you see?”
With Severus partially facing away from him, he could Severus smile wistfully. Then, his face fell. He stood and and --for the first time in the conversation-- met Albus’ gaze. His face was so hollow, so resigned. His eyes roamed back and forth over Albus’ face. He looked at Albus with something like pity, something like regret.
“Goodbye. Albus,” and Severus Snape floated from the room, already a ghost.