Dead Ends
31st October, 1981
The man stumbled into the house, leaning against the doorway. He clutched his left arm that was bleeding a fair amount and fumbled for the light, swearing when he couldn’t reach it. The light blinked on and he trudged through his house into the kitchen to the right. He removed his hand from his arm and saw that the cut wasn’t any better looking than it was a few minutes ago. It was a deep slash, carving up his forearm and around his elbow. It was going to leave a nasty scar. Nothing he could do about it.
The man fished around a kitchen drawer for a tea towel. He wrapped it around the wound tightly, wincing and grimacing. He searched in the upper cupboard for a small smooth brown glass bottle, labelled in neat script. He took the tea towel off and poured the liquid straight on. The wound bubbled and hissed slightly. The man clenched his teeth but it finally healed over, leaving a shallower cut, more manageable. He searched the cupboard again before finding ointment and some bandages.
Severus Snape had shoulder length greasy, black hair and dark eyes that were almost black. His skin was sallow and discoloured like he had never seen the sun. He also had a large hooked nose and an expression between annoyance, anger and deep, deep sadness.
After he had cleaned and dressed his cut, Severus headed towards a tall wine rack. He pulled a bottle off the stand and evaluated whether this would make him drunk enough. He decided for two bottles - a horrible whiskey that did nothing but bring on delusions (just what he needed) and a Russian Tequila that would help to knock him out after he was done being absurdly drunk.
He pulled the cork off the whiskey and chugged some down, not even bothering for a glass. All he really wanted right now was to be fucked out of his mind and to forget. Forget. Forget. Forget.
6th November, 1981
Severus had done basically nothing for a whole week. He had drunk his way through half his wine rack and had messed around in his potions room, trying to find the right combination of things that would make him forget the ache in his heart. Severus was just about to turn the fire back on to make something - literally anything would do right now - when the doorbell rang.
“Dumbledore.” Severus hissed. Only one man was stupid enough to ring a doorbell in these times.
Severus wrenched the door open. Dumbledore stood outside in dark grey robes that billowed slightly in the breeze.
“You- hic- what do you want?” Severus said, a half finished bottle of wine in his hands.
“Severus…” Dumbledore said with almost mocking, pitying sympathy in his eyes, “I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“Oh fuck you.” Severus said, his breath reeking of alcohol, “Fuck off…”
He trailed into the sitting room and collapsed onto the couch, drinking the rest of his wine.
“Severus, please. I am sorry.” Dumbledore said, following him into the house and closing the door, “I promised you her safety and I failed.”
“No, I failed. I’m the one who lost her trust in the -hic- first fuckin place.” Severus slurred in a tone of utmost self hatred, “You -hic- weren’t her best friend and -hic- you didn’t betray her trust and- and-”
The bottle rolled out of his hand and clunked onto the ground.
Dumbledore sighed, adjusting his half moon glasses, “I am terribly sorry, Severus. I feel I must make this up to you somehow.”
“You want to make it up to me?” Severus said, anger flaring in his chest, “Then- then bring her back! Bring her back!”
“No one can bring back the dead, Severus, you and I both know that very well.”
Severus looked at him. There was no point fighting him. There was also no possible way to, Severus was out of his mind.
“I… I have been invited to th- her funeral.” Dumbledore said quietly after a little while, “I am able to bring a plus one.”
“Great. Bring Hagrid.” Severus said, waving his hand about. Dumbledore’s words not making it through the thick cloud of alcohol clogging his brain.
“It's tomorrow.” Dumbledore said. He sat gingerly on the couch next to Severus, “I want you to come with me.”
Severus looked at him, “She wouldn’t… she wouldn’t want me there.”
“You need to go.” Dumbledore said, “You need… closure.”
Severus had a feeling that Dumbledore knew he had gone to her house that night and saw her dead. And cried a little.
“You don’t know what I need.”
“Think about it, do me that at least.”
Why should I do anything for you?
“I’ll be here at the same time tomorrow, if you are willing to go, please… make sure you, er,” Dumbledore’s eyes swept over the room, “Clean up.”
Severus sighed, picking himself off the couch, “Is that all you came for?”
Dumbledore looked at him and seemed to be in thought.
“Severus… just know that… I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”
“I need to be alone.” Severus answered.
Dumbledore nodded and turned towards the door. He turned back, facing Severus again, “I really am sorry. I… I know what she meant to you… the ones that we love… they hurt the most when they cannot be with us. But… remember, Severus, that hurt is proof that we had loved someone and that… that is a wonderful thing.”
He turned back, “Goodbye Severus. I will see you tomorrow.”
7th November, 1981
Despite being buried in a pit of self loathing for a week, Severus made the climb out and departed with Dumbledore to attend Lily’s funeral. He had pondered over which robes were the darkest of his before deciding they were all the same shade of black. He picked one with a hood purposefully so he could hide away in it when it got too much. With him, he also brought a flask of rum and another of a potion he had invented a while back called ‘Tranquillitas’ which made the drinker feel tranquil and subdued, calm in a sleeping-waking state.
Severus and Dumbledore apparated to a checkpoint outside of Godric’s Hollow, somewhere in the woods.
“Snow.” Dumbledore said, reaching out a hand and catching a few snowflakes on them. “Ah. I’m glad I wore extra layers then.”
He looked to Severus whose mouth was in a very thin line. Severus flipped up his hood, Dumbledore drew his robes around him. This was one of the only times Severus had seen him wear black.
“I wore these same robes to the Mckinnon's funeral.” Dumbledore said quietly as if reading Severus’ mind, “I have been wearing black far too often.”
Severus said nothing but followed the professor out of the forest and into the sleepy town of Godric's Hollow. They passed a row of shops and streets of cosy houses, blanketed in dustings of snowfall. They made their way through the town courtyard and finally to the church at the end of the village. The church was small and sombre, like a sentinel angel in the darkness, swirling snow cascaded down around it. Looping around the side and back was a cemetery, flanked by thick gardens.
Several wixen stood outside the church, waiting in small clusters like bouquets of mourning flowers. They were all dressed in black with hats, hoods and drapes over their faces in typical funeral fashion. Severus could see the shape of Alastor Moody, who had one of his eyes replaced with a bright blue magical eye that was swivelling around. He seemed to be in conversation with a weeping Arabella Figg. There were numerous Order members, some friends and distant relatives. Severus also spotted Hagrid, bawling noisily into a handkerchief. It seemed Dumbledore did not need to ask him to be his plus one.
“It would have been a larger crowd if not for the security the Ministry had enforced.” Dumbledore muttered to Severus, “There were many people who wished to give their thanks to the Potters.”
The doors to the church opened and people began to file in.
Dumbledore was swept away by some guests, greeting them and consoling them. He left Severus to find a seat all the way at the back. Many of the people were making their way to the front, near the four figures that stood beside the stage, off to the side in their own little group.
Remus Lupin and Sirius Black were holding hands, speaking to each other in voices that did not carry through the quiet room. They were both dressed in draped black robes and their faces, from what Severus could see, was of quiet, restrained grief. For a moment he felt a connection to them. But it was there for a moment and then quickly extinguished as Severus spotted the two wooden coffins at the front of the room, right beside the large non-moving photograph of Lily and James.
Her eyes could see him. They could see right through his calm facade. They could see his soul where rage, anger and sadness was writhed and worked up like a spring. Lily looked calm, like she was gazing around the room into the faces of her mourners. It was a wixen tradition not to have moving photographs at funerals. But even though she was just a photo, Severus could feel himself break internally at the face he never got to see unless it was crumpled up in upset, beside itself with rage, dead or in a photograph.
It took a lot to keep himself from reaching for the rum.
Dumbledore came back before the ceremony started and took his seat next to Severus. He did not ask why Dumbledore sat next to him when he could have sat anywhere else. Secretly, he appreciated it, openly however, he looked as if he resented it.
The ceremony began and several people spoke. Severus did not hear them, their words and voices were meaningless and did nothing to curb the grief gnawing at his heart. He could not hear them. No, he could not hear anything except the screams from inside his own head. They were asked to stand and to sing a couple times. Severus did not move. Dumbledore walked up to make his speech halfway through the ceremony. Other people spoke. But nothing anyone said related to anything Severus felt. He was truly alone in his grief, no one could understand the level of mourning he was on for his relationship with Lily had been dead long before she.
Finally, the last people were called up to speak. Remus Lupin stood in front of the room, his eyes rimmed with red.
“Hi. My name is Remus Lupin and for those of you who don’t know me, I’ve known Lily and James ever since I began hogwarts, that is, since 10 years ago. For those 10 years I have been blessed to have been embraced and loved by both of them. I know Lily and James as three things. First, they were strong. Despite all that life threw at them, they held like a lighthouse in a storm. Both of them looked death in the eye and said, ‘We’re not waiting for you. You can wait for us.’ They grew a house of love in the middle of a time of horror. Their audacity to dance, laugh and still hold hope in the face of such injustice as the war extended the influence of hope to all of us. I’ve also known them to be kind. To love unabashedly and wholly.” Here, Remus’s voice cracked, “To be warm like the sun and light in Lily’s red hair and the courage and friendliness that James radiated. They taught me that softness and strength have a place together. The third thing I’ve known the Potters as is living. Not just alive but really living, to dance with your hands untied, to sing with your heart - even if you were as bad as James was.” A few people gave watery laughs, “They taught me to have adventures and dreams. And I know the Potters will be missed by everyone in this room, but if there's one thing that they’d want them to do is to be strong - to hold out against the night, to be kind - not just to others by to yourself too, and finally to live - to live like regret does nto exist. In my heart, I hold these three things, and I hope that you will too. Strength, kindness and life - three things, thank you.”
There was thunderous applause. Severus wanted to scoff but found that he just couldn’t. He had no time to scoff if he wanted to hide his ugly sobbing from the eyes of Dumbledore.
The applause quieted and Sirius Black took the podium, casting a dead look across the room.
He took a breath.
“The last time I had to make a speech was at their wedding. You must forgive me this time for the lack of humour.” Sirius paused, “They were together last I made a speech and they are still together today. James and Lily… they… they were the best of us. James, he was my best friend. My brother and my family, when my own did not want me. Lily was a good person, she was an even better friend. She loved with everything she had.” At this, a tear rolled down his cheek, “They knew what they were getting at, joining the fight. They knew what it would cost if our side won. But they knew that if they were together, they could win. It was the fact that they were together that we won. They always knew that friendship and love would trump hate and discord. That's why they fought. That's why we fight.”
Severus looked at Lily’s photograph and he found that he had nothing in the world to fight for.