Disclaimer: Strangely enough, everything belongs to J. K. Rowling. even the
inspiration for the story.
Author's note: *** Contains tiny spoilers for OotP!!!! Although when I say tiny, I mean tiny. *** This is set about five minutes after Harry looks in the pensive.
Reviews, as always, are very much appreciated, and flames are used to toast marshmallows on.
Many thanks to my beta reader Neil. (Although not for the many suggestion of steamy sex scenes in the room of requirement.)
Now, for those who actually want the story, here goes.
The Pensive.
Severus Snape sat in his office and tried to collect his thoughts. He figured he was lucky that that was the only thought the potter boy had seen in the pensive. He didn't care if the boy's image of James Potter had just been shattered. All Snape cared about was that Harry hadn't seen the other thoughts in the pensive. That would have been catastrophic. While Snape didn't care about his former tormentor's reputation, Lily's was another matter.
Snape sighed as he thought of Lily. In his mind she could never do anything wrong. Even when she married that foul man, Snape found it in his heart to forgive her. Even when she died to save that boy, Snape forgave her. She on the other hand never forgave him for one mistake. That one mistake was now floating in the pensive, looking so innocent. If the boy had seen that one mistake his image of a perfect mother would have been gone forever. Snape knew he'd never live with himself if that had happened.
A tear had made its way to the corner of his eye. He wiped it away angrily. He looked upon crying as a sign of weakness. He had always been weak. That was why Lily had married James Potter instead of him. Snape knew that Lily never loved James, she had told him so that night.
Snape's hand shook as he leaned towards the pensive. Slowly an image formed around him. He saw himself, sixteen years ago sitting in the Hogs Head. The image of himself was drowning its sorrows in firewhiskey. He was by himself, as usual. As Snape looked around he spotted her, sitting in the corner. The young Snape had also spotted her, and was making his way towards her. She looked up from her butterbeer as his shadow fell across her.
As she looked up, the Snape from sixteen years ago realised there were tears threatening to spill from her beautiful eyes. He produced a silk hankie from his robe pocket and offered it to her.
Author's note: *** Contains tiny spoilers for OotP!!!! Although when I say tiny, I mean tiny. *** This is set about five minutes after Harry looks in the pensive.
Reviews, as always, are very much appreciated, and flames are used to toast marshmallows on.
Many thanks to my beta reader Neil. (Although not for the many suggestion of steamy sex scenes in the room of requirement.)
Now, for those who actually want the story, here goes.
The Pensive.
Severus Snape sat in his office and tried to collect his thoughts. He figured he was lucky that that was the only thought the potter boy had seen in the pensive. He didn't care if the boy's image of James Potter had just been shattered. All Snape cared about was that Harry hadn't seen the other thoughts in the pensive. That would have been catastrophic. While Snape didn't care about his former tormentor's reputation, Lily's was another matter.
Snape sighed as he thought of Lily. In his mind she could never do anything wrong. Even when she married that foul man, Snape found it in his heart to forgive her. Even when she died to save that boy, Snape forgave her. She on the other hand never forgave him for one mistake. That one mistake was now floating in the pensive, looking so innocent. If the boy had seen that one mistake his image of a perfect mother would have been gone forever. Snape knew he'd never live with himself if that had happened.
A tear had made its way to the corner of his eye. He wiped it away angrily. He looked upon crying as a sign of weakness. He had always been weak. That was why Lily had married James Potter instead of him. Snape knew that Lily never loved James, she had told him so that night.
Snape's hand shook as he leaned towards the pensive. Slowly an image formed around him. He saw himself, sixteen years ago sitting in the Hogs Head. The image of himself was drowning its sorrows in firewhiskey. He was by himself, as usual. As Snape looked around he spotted her, sitting in the corner. The young Snape had also spotted her, and was making his way towards her. She looked up from her butterbeer as his shadow fell across her.
As she looked up, the Snape from sixteen years ago realised there were tears threatening to spill from her beautiful eyes. He produced a silk hankie from his robe pocket and offered it to her.