Severus’ head burned at the memory of where Lily and the Potter lived. What happened? Why- what happened to Lily? She- she had to be okay. Her grades in the charms classes were perfect, the Fidlius charm wouldn’t have just released out of nowhere. He ran through the gates of Godric’s Hollow, navigating the streets with ease to the two story cottage that Lily lived in with the Potter. Barreling through the door, he ran through the ground floor, not daring to shout out for anyone in case he was still there. The house was vacant, not physically but there was a daunting emptiness, clear of life. The warmness that he associated with Lily was gone, even the annoying flair of Potter’s ego was gone. Finally making it to the set of stairs in the back, his foot bumped a wand and when he looked up he was facing a body lying still. The man was tall and relatively muscular, laying face down. Even though the man’s features were hidden and he was dressed in plain clothes, Severus would recognize that unruly brown hair anywhere.
Forgoing stealth, he started shouting for her. He sprinted up the stairs, throwing doors open and glimpsing into each before moving on. In the third to last room he found her. He ignored what was in the room, only taking in the pastel walls before dashing to her side. She laid on her left, arms in front of her as if she was trying to keep the spell from hitting her. Her wand wasn’t with her, he couldn’t stop himself from grasping her shoulders and bringing her into a hug. Her body was still warm as he brought it closer to himself. He couldn’t stop the tears from forming, but he laid her down when he wiped them away, keeping them from touching her as if they would pollute her. He looked around the room more, trying to figure out where he was exactly when he heard noises coming from downstairs. He saw only a crib, a dresser and a small baby, silently crying, sitting behind her before he apparated away.
When Severus apparated to his small cottage he couldn’t stop himself from screaming and forcefully pushing everything off his desk. He wanted to break something. He wanted to break himself. He knew that Lily would be in danger and he did nothing. He just… let her die. He had told himself that he wouldn’t let that happen and it still did, it’s all his fault. He wanted to go back in time and make sure Voldemort didn’t get to her, personally.
He went to his small kitchen and took as much out of the cabinets as he could. He shattered plates and mugs and cups before dumping all the precious silverware with the engraved ‘S’ to the ground and… he didn’t feel better. He was standing in the middle of shattered glass and porcelain, his spoons were everywhere and he was still so angry. At himself for not protecting Lily more. At Voldemort for killing her, even at James Potter for not doing anything more than stand on the stairs. He was a powerful wizard? Prove it. James Potter did nothing to protect Lily and it showed.
Lily Evans was powerful but- but she didn’t have her wand. It might have been in the room but it certainly wasn’t with her. He would have seen it. He would have taken it to make sure it was taken care of. Lily couldn’t do anything to keep herself from dying. And- and there was the child- the baby. It looked too much like Potter to be anything but their child. Potter- James Potter died protecting Lily and his child?! Severus could have stopped it all, stopped Lily from dying, from the wizarding world from losing a powerful witch, but he didn’t.
Suddenly the bowls and plates and cups and the singular vase he had weren’t enough. He wanted- no, needed to destroy more. But- he couldn’t kill Voldemort by himself. He couldn’t save Lily by himself. He finally got a level enough head to gain that much sense. For once in his life he had to acknowledge that he very desperately needed help.
Running through the hallowed halls of his alma mater his mind raced. Was this a good idea? No. No it couldn’t be, and yet it was the only way he could think of to repent. Maybe if he did something good with his sorry life Lily would forgive him. As he finally reached the gryphon guarding the headmasters office he paused for breath, composed himself, and entered. Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, looking as though he had been expecting the bedraggled man, he always seemed to know. Taking a breath he stepped inside the office. As he tells his tale each word more frantic than the last, the elder wizard's expression becomes more and more disapproving. When the last word fell from the younger's lips there was silence.
Severus didn’t know how but he had walked into the office panicked and hoping desperately that giving the old man, who should have been his enemy, insider information would save him. He left with a job, an Unbreakable Vow, and the knowledge that any mistake would have him killed or left destitute in Azkaban. If he wasn’t so upset he could laugh. Who knew the old man could be so cunning? The guilt trips hurt but he knew that he deserved far more. Yes, this is exactly what he deserves, he would now have to devote his life to protecting the Potter spawn, he would just have to remind himself that it’s for Lily. It’s always been for Lily.
At the welcoming feast he looked down from his place at the high table and saw the boy who had tormented him, the dark messy locks and tanned skin, but then the child turned and Severus found himself staring into Lily’s judgemental eyes. They burned him as if to say it’ll never be enough, you’ll never be enough. Seeing Lily’s eyes set in James’s face was too much, he turned away, distracting himself by searching for his godson in the crowd. When Minerva reached the boy's name he looked on, hoping for something, unsure of what. When the hat said Gryffindor, whatever hopes he had were dashed, and the hate-anger-fear-loss set in. He wouldn’t let another James torment another Slytherin, even if this Potter held her eyes.
It was Friday. He had known that he would have to do this one day but all the time in the world couldn’t have prepared him for it. It had been 11 years since he had seen the boy he had pledged to protect and now everything was coming to a head. He had of course caught glimpses of the boy at mealtimes throughout the week but this would be the first class with him. He wondered if he would be able to apologise to the child who she had loved more than life. When the students had finished filtering in he rose to take roll call. Once finished he said the usual speech and as he did so he noticed the Potter brat scribbling on his parchment paying no mind to Severus. He restrained himself from simply taking points from the child, instead deciding to use this as an opportunity to apologise to Lily without losing face in front of his house. He had already decided on the words to use, now it was time to speak. He forced himself to look into her eyes, powdered root of asphodel and infusion of wormwood, the boy wouldn’t understand but hopefully her spirit would. And it was true, he did bitterly regret her death, but he also regretted the events that caused it, and in the end what it made him do. He sold whatever soul he had for her and she probably hated him. Sometimes he hated himself too.
His cloak billowed behind him as he paced, that idiot boy seemed to be actively working against him. It was ludicrous, how could Minerva condone a first year to enter a sport known for injuries and danger?! He knew Quirrel was acting uncharacteristically and this solidified his concerns. Whatever was going on with the man didn’t matter. He had tried to kill the boy-who-lived-to-be-a-pain Potter, but why? While Quirinus had been odd he’d never shown homicidal tendencies before. Severus had already reported the matter to the Headmaster and had been told to let it be and see how it plays out.
Summertime was always difficult for Severus even during his time as a student at Hogwarts going back to his abusive father and beaten down mother. Now his issues were different of course his mother and father long dead. Now he graded end of year assignments and exams, reviewed his lesson plans, answer letters, and brewed potions for the hospital wing because Poppy insisted that he was the only one she could trust (it helped that he charged less). And then you had the most difficult part, free time. While he was a man who preferred solitude, the ache in his chest- worsened by the constant grating reminder of her throughout the year was agonising. Sometimes he wondered if he was a masochist because for all that the sight of the brat pained him, it also reassured him. Seeing a piece of her out in the world, alive, was like a balm to his soul.
A bloody werewolf in the school again. Oh yes Headmaster because that went so well last time. He had made sure to deliver the potion to the man, would it have killed him to pause for no more than a minute to drink it? And now he had to protect three idiotic Gryffindors from a rabid werewolf while keeping track of a mutt and a rat. Honestly, petrifying a professor, why would they think that was a good idea? Hopefully Lily would appreciate his sacrifice, no, it felt wrong trying to make light of her, even now 13 years later. On the upside he thought sardonically, Gryffindor will lose a truly mind blowing amount of points for this.
Dead. Dumbledore was dead. By his own hand. While he didn’t really like the man, there had been respect, the elder wizard had given him a chance to make Lily proud. An opportunity he knew he shouldn’t have gotten and didn’t deserve. And now in the open grounds of Hogwarts, his home for so many years, something had changed. It wasn’t as monumental a change as when Lily had died but there was a difference. Subtle and biting. But there was no time to linger on such thoughts. Potter would be killed if he didn’t step in, but how? He couldn’t allow his cover to be blown, he couldn’t allow the old man's death to be in vain. Right, the Dark Lord wanted to save the brat for himself. Then all I need to do is distract Potter and lead the rest of the Death Eaters out. I have to get them out as soon as possible, the fewer lives lost the better.
It had been 16 years since she died and he had never once gotten the courage to visit her grave. It was time, long past time really. He dressed in Muggle clothes and apparated far enough away from the cottage in Godric's Hollow to not be suspicious. And as he marched towards the small graveyard his thoughts swirled. The war was coming to a head, the final battle close. He didn’t know how soon the altercation would be but he knew in his bones that his time would be coming to an end with it. Staring down at her grave for the first time was daunting.
He didn’t know what to do. He had never been to a funeral or visited a grave, his mother had died while he was in school and his father had her cremated and scattered before he even knew she was dead. When his father died he arranged everything but as there was no love lost between them it was a sterile affair, no funeral, cremated and abandoned for the undertaker to deal with. Standing here now, in front of the final resting place of the only woman, perhaps even person he had loved, the anger he thought he had suppressed came forth once more. This was not the burning anger of his youth however, this was cold. And as he stared down at her grave he knew that whatever happened, whatever plans the old man had, that boy would live.
He was laid out on his side, using as much of his strength as he could to staunch the bleeding on his neck. Voldemort left him to die- what was going to happen. Surely he wouldn’t be able to live much longer than a minute or two. He strained his ears, trying to hear if the Dark Lord was coming back, but he wasn’t. He was left alone. Lily was gone, Harry was probably fighting for his life or getting as far away from the school as he could, and now he really had no one else. He had effectively isolated himself from everyone else and now that was going to be the reason he had lived as a sad man and would now die as one.
Suddenly, as if a curtain was lifted, Harry appeared. He ran to Severus, panicking- saying something but Severus couldn’t comprehend it. He could only look into his eyes as they inexplicably teared up, oh that brings back memories.
Lily crying in a field, Lily crying after he called her a- No, Harry had brown hair. Lily Evans had orange hair. Lily- he had held Lily in his arms after she- Lily Evans was killed. Lily died. But Lily Evans had almost always looked past his unapproachable self and told him to get better hadn’t she? She had always wanted him to be better, to prove to himself that yes, he was mean and bad but he could move on. He could always improve himself, and if he applied that to his actions towards her- Severus had done a bad thing but he hadn’t called anyone that since he did it to her. He had improved. He just didn’t prove it to himself and really now if he wanted to prove to himself that he was a good person, like Lily or… Harry, he had to tell him about her. He wanted to be the one to tell him about her because he will always love her.
But Lily’s green eyes were still tearing up and- the baby in the room she died in was crying too, wasn’t it? The same eyes that were watery now were dripping all over him and now he was dying and he could do nothing to tell him about her because he can barely keep his eyes open and he had too many memories to talk about. Memories. He could do that. He was good at memories. He remembered lots of things, but always things he loved. He loved potions and spells and making things of his own, but nothing more did he love than Lily. He could only spill his memories outwards, which served no purpose because he lost the memories afterwards.
He closed his eyes for a moment, losing Lily’s- Harry’s eyes, to summon as many of the memories of her as he could and pushing them out. He grabbed Harry’s robes and he cried as he lost the memories of her, opening his eyes and trying to tell Harry to take them, take them they’re yours, she’s your mother and I need you to understand for once you dimwitted Potter!
Someone else was there, who it was Severus didn’t know, but he did know that he couldn’t feel the bite anymore, or Harry’s hand where it was likely still pressed against the bite. Ah, his time was almost up. But Harry was looking at a flask of something blue- his memories, he presumed- and not at him. He pleaded the best he could to see her eyes and then- he was floating.
Well, not really floating but he felt lighter than before and he couldn’t remember what exactly happened before. He had given his memories to Harry, briefly forgot about Lily, and now he was light. He still remembered Lily and that was enough. A white haze was taking over and maybe- maybe he’ll be okay.
Lily was watching Harry, he was holding a small baby and she was so happy to see his wide smile. He announced the baby boy's name to his friends who were in the room and the doctor when she heard something. From the white mists of the afterlife, a cry is heard; “Albus Severus WHAT?!”
~Fin~