Edit to add - I'm reposting this story to correct some mistakes and omissions.

Like Flowers in the Rain

O

We are washed away,

Denuded.

Our ending does not

Sum us.

It but contains our

Absence. For we are,

Like flowers in the rain,

There, and gone again.

I

Horror etched into those wide, staring eyes

A wand, rolled useless from a half clenched hand,

As glistening drops trickle down cheeks icy in the silent rain

Amidst a mass of hazel curls dirtied by stains of grime and mud,

It did not last, like flowers in the rain.

.o.o.

The raindrops patter onto those wide, staring eyes and trickle out again. They do not blink. A horror has been etched on them. Why? The rain falls on, silent and uncaring.

The cold was in my bones. Why? I shook my head, violently and turned from this shape at my feet, this once a vibrant, cheeky girl. Once. So cold. Shoulders hunched, I tightened my tattered black robes around me. My crow robes. I grinned mirthlessly. There were no answers here. No reasons to stay. Only broken promises. Averting my gaze from this thing at my feet, I picked up my duffel bag and walked away down the broken road. The ugly mill loomed in the distance over me.

I wandered, aimless, for a timeless interval in the abandoned streets I'd known all my life. The duffel bag weighed heavy on my stooping shoulder. I chose this useless bag over a life. Her life. Why? The sun does not show its face to me. Grey, featureless clouds smother it. Only the wind is with me, its touch, gently cruel. I found myself approaching the no longer so distant ugly mill.

I didn't change direction. I plodded on, blinking moisture from my tearless eyes. I let my thoughts wander back to places where my feet once trod, trod away that is, never to return again.

Why did she follow me? Why did she need to see me one more time? It was useless to dwell on such futile thoughts but, as was their wont, they flitted as they would despite my anger and my rage.

II

There are no second chances.

Hopes and dreams –

The fire that consume leaves nothing,

But gainless pain that must be

Blown away like flowers in the rain.

.o.o.

"Severus! Wait," I heard her cry. Her feet clapped a thunder in the damp, narrow street. She would not let me leave. Stopping, I furiously turned to confront her one last time.

"What are you doing here? You should be with your friends celebrating your great victory. You should be drinking to your single-handed triumph over the forces of evil and deep dark," I ground out sarcastically, my gaze lingering over the features of her face, the dripping tip of her pert, upraised nose, the fiery determination in her longing eyes.

"You promised you would wait for me. You promised you would let me plead your case and clear your name to Harry and the rest. How could you leave me just like that without a word, or even an owl?" I didn't reply. I couldn't. "You think I could celebrate this without you beside me? I wouldn't be here without you. Severus, please don't do this to me."

"Go back," I yelled. Taking my wand out of my sleeve I aimed it at her with shaking hands. "Stop talking about impossibilities. You could never clear my name, not if you lived to be one hundred and fifty! This was just a thing we had. There for a while and now it's over, like flowers in the rain."

"You're wrong. This isn't just a thing." Spittle was flying from her mouth. "I love you. I know you love me too."

"What is love worth? Does it bring you happiness? Does it bring you peace? Does it give you a place to lie in the cold, lonely night? It brings you nothing. Nothing but heartache, fear and sorrow, that is. It was a mistake. I'm leaving now and you will forget this," his hand moved between them "ever happened."

Suddenly her own wand appeared in her hand. "Don't even think about obliviating me." Sparks flew from her wand's tip. "Don't you dare try to obliviate me."

I shook my head placatingly. I took a step back, my own fingers tightening around my dark wand.

"You're coming with me now to Hogwarts. We're going to see Harry and explain everything to him and then we go to Professor McGonagall and the rest of the Order and finish this. You'll see, it'll be all right. Everything will turn out for the best."

I took another step back. "Don't make me do this. It doesn't have to be this way. Maybe we could see each other sometime, somewhere, when no one suspects–" I lied.

I could see she wasn't convinced but she lowered her wand a little. She wouldn't be deterred for long I knew. She wasn't someone to give up her causes once she sank her teeth into them. "I'm sorry," I told her from the deepest corners of my heart. I had to get free. I had to. And she, she will never let me be, never set me free. Not as long as she drew breath.

She smiled at me and started to say "I'm sorry to–" but she didn't get to finish. A green blaze surrounded her and she fell to the ground.

"I'm sorry," I repeated. If only... if only…

III

Dreams that flourish swell and stretch.

Ever more expansive, ever more expensive,

'Impossible!' is discarded,

For effervescent rewards that glisten

Perfect, like flowers in the rain.

.o.o.

We paused at the door and I asked her quietly, "are you ready?"

She nodded resolutely. "Ready as I'll ever be." She smiled at me. My heart overflowed with emotion. It was her smile. The last I'll see? My fist knotted painfully within my sleeve. "Are you?" she asked.

I hardened my resolve. This was no time for reminiscence. "I guess." I gave her a halfhearted wink. "Just hit them from the shadows, avoid notice and be superb in my casting. Should be able to handle that much in my sleep," I took a long breath and sighed it out again, "It cannot be avoided. Oh, Hermione, it's been such a long time coming, such a long time..." I laid my hand on her shoulder. "Be careful," I told her.

I couldn't keep the distance. It might be our last glimpse of each other. Our last chance at anything. I kissed her gently then and she kissed me back, hungrily, desperately. We parted at last. I took a step back and gave her a searching glance. She nodded, smiling bravely.

I hugged her fiercely one final time and she let her head rest on my beating heart.

"Are you ready?" I asked her once more, trying to sound cheerful and confident.

"Of course I'm ready," Hermione declared. "Wait for me by the Shrieking Shack after the battle's done. I'll bring you to the Light after the victory. I'll tell Harry how you rescued me, that Dumbledore ordered you to do it, just like I promised you. You don't need to worry, Severus. With Harry's support no one will dare gainsay us. I'll finally be able to repay you for what you did for me that night. And after that there'll be no more need to sneak in the dead hours, or hide from my friends. We can be together. Openly."

"You assume we'll win," I prevaricated. Such bright, hopeful dreams she held, such sheer belief in her power to achieve all her goals. She was such a fool. Such a dear, deluded fool. But maybe I was the fool, to be so jaded. I've had the taste of failure and defeat stuck for so long in my craw. For a moment I imagined a happy-ever-after for the two of us, with peace upon the Land and society's acceptance. It was so painful to believe, to dare and hope. Besides, I very much doubted I'd live long enough to witness another sunrise.

"Of course we'll win!" she retorted as though she read my mind.

I nodded silently. After that we said no more. We marched to battle. One way or another, I knew, this will end today.

IV

Is love a gift of inestimable val,

Or a burden, impossible, ever to repay?

A test you cannot fail,

or a mirage,

Ephemeral, like flowers in the rain?

.o.o.

I held her in my arms. We sat on the warm floor by the fireplace, my arms and legs enveloping her body from behind. The light from the fire haloed her wild hair with flickering glints. It was quiet. My head rested on her shoulder.

"I think I love you," the words slipped from my mouth into her ear. Impossible to retrieve now.

"You do?" she asked me, tilting her head towards me. Then, "you do?" more confidently this time. She twisted around to meet my eyes. She was smiling. I felt my heart lift.

"I, I do," I said. I did. I did love her.

She turned around and we hugged there on the floor and it felt so good. Like a crippling weight lifting, momentarily, from my shoulders.

"I love you too," she declared to me, "I doubted you, you know, when I was still a kid, resented you even, but you came through for me, always, when it mattered. You were there for me. Unlike Ron. Flighty, useless Ron." She drew even closer. "Make love to me. Here. Now," she was breathing rapidly and her eyes shone in excitement.

I led her back to the bed and we did. With that word still ringing in our ears our time together held a new, indefinable, precious meaning. We fit so well together, we both agreed afterward.

"My secret," she teased me. She ruffled my unkempt hair with her clever hand. She paused and met my eyes, her expression serious, "I do love you," she told me, all earnest.

I nodded and hugged her head to my shoulder, all gentle, feeling melancholy.

V

It isn't hard, knowing right from wrong.

Your mind doubts, but your heart knows.

Sight hazed by circumstance?! Fool!

The moment is all. Face it.

Stand strong, be bright like flowers in the rain.

.o.o.

The girl was going to die here, slowly, horribly. I tried not to care. The preliminaries were over. The Dark Lord already leaned forward in his throne, a mildly interested look in his dead eyes. The thin grin was on his lips. His wand was lowered still, but his elongated finger caressed it. Miss Granger crouched on the ground before us, clothes torn, face and body covered in artful cuts and lacerations, sporadic tremors from the Circle's Cruciatuses wracking her frame and yet… the embers in her eyes were not extinguished and there was a defiance in her posture somehow, despite the pain and blood and filth and certitude of her approaching doom. Was she trying to provoke them? Could she really believe there wasn't worse yet forthcoming?

No one was coming to rescue her. It's been hours since I sent my Patronus to inform her friends and the Order of her situation. She will die alone and friendless. As I always expected my death to be. I let out a breath and thought about the Grand Plan instead. Dumbledore's plan.

Her eyes focused on me. I stared back, wanting to avert my eyes instead. "Snape," she coughed, spattering more of her blood on the ground. She raised her head and spat in my direction. "Traitorous scum!" she tried to shout.

Involuntarily, I took a step back. I couldn't let it stand. They were all staring at me now. The Dark Lord smiled at me. I tried to grin back. No witty comeback or fittingly ironic curses came to me. I shook my head angrily. I was thinking too hard. I didn't need to be clever. In this company, all I needed to prove myself was to be cruel, depraved and bloodthirsty. I looked back at her. It shouldn't be hard. I've done it all before. I lifted my wand.

She smiled, triumphantly, at me. "Nothing to say?" she spat again, "you used to be so verbose, when you were still, a teacher. Not that, your words... could ever cover, your ugliness, from anyone."

My wand wavered. I firmed my grip on it. It was just a thing I had to do. Her words were air. I met her pain-pinched gaze. Her image wavered in my mind's eye. A little Granger girl, sitting for her very first class under me, superimposed herself on the stricken, defiant young woman she became. That other girl was so naive, so trusting, so filled with adulation for her 'Professor.' How things have changed. Was I ever a good teacher? I felt bile rise in my mouth. I was a good instructor. I ground information into thick, unwilling skulls, but the only thing I inspired in them was ugliness and fear.

I didn't like that image. Her situation wasn't my fault. It wasn't my concern. I approached her. "Do you believe I owe you anything?" I queried her, my tone uncaring.

She didn't reply. I wanted to curse her then, to drive the scorn and defiance out of her gaze. Couldn't she see I was her only lifeline here, frayed and thin though it was? No. You reap what you sow, as the muggles say. Damn Dumbledore and his 'greater good' anyway. I'd be my own man for once. With a dramatic gesture I cried "Incendio!" and faked a stream of green flames at her. Quick as an eel, I tore the button portkey Albus once made for me and threw it at her under the cover of smoke. "Tell no one!" I shouted in the confines of her mind. My secret lifeline. Lost in a fit of madness? Too late for regrets. She was gone and, as ever, I could only move forward.

VI

Fear keeps you alive.

Alive to fear. Breathe.

Day after day. Reviled. Despised.

Alone. Else, you'll be trampled

And forgotten, like flowers in the rain.

.o.o.

They circled and nipped at my heels, as always. I rained vicious curses on them but it was useless. As always, I was alone, my back exposed and they, an overwhelming, pitiless, hungry pack. A pack I mustn't, under Dumbledore's orders, harm too seriously. How it rankled!

With an intense bout of blinding magic, I managed to disengage, momentarily. I didn't waste any time and fled, as fast as my feet could carry me. I could disapparate as soon as I was away. I heard the patter of many footsteps behind me. I could make it. I was almost at the borderline. I zigzagged and they missed me. A peek over my shoulder showed the Granger girl at the head of the pack.

"Traitor! Murderer! Coward!" She hurled her insults at me with all the venom she could muster.

I didn't waste breath on a reply. It'd be a waste. My reputation was ruined beyond repair no matter what I did to make amends. My explanations would fall, as always, on deaf ears. I would leave this world alone and despised. Particularly by the likes of Granger. That girl was so self-righteous. With a final leap I was across and away. I fell to the ground, spent. I would yet live to see another day!

VII

The Wise Ones of the East, pity us – the living.

A perfume they'll strain from any of us, oh perennials o' feelings.

Our joys, they claim, are flitting; our suffering, an avalanche.

Perhaps. But joy is timeless. It shines through fog and darkness.

Live and suffer, accepting all, like flowers in the rain.

.o.o.

Harry didn't recognize the location he materialized in. He glanced around, quickly, wand at the ready, just in case. He was on a rooftop. It looked industrial – sooty, littered with rubbish, and long-abandoned. The air was colder here and it was drizzling. Harry suppressed a shiver and cast an Impervious charm on himself. There was no immediate danger. There was no one there, except for him. He stood by the ledge with his back towards him, but Harry thought the man knew he was there. It was him. Snape. It hadn't been hard to locate him. He must have let his Untraceability charms fall a while ago.

Carefully, he crossed the crumbling roof. Approaching the man he's hunted and hated for so long, he felt so many conflicting emotions. But he promised Hermione. Snape was leaning over the ledge, looking down. He was stoop-shouldered and soaked through, uncaring to the dreary weather. He looked smaller than he remembered him, somehow. There was a big, shapeless bag at his feet. Was he planning on going to ground? It was lucky he caught him before he disappeared, he supposed. He cleared his throat. "Hermione told me. And I found the evidence Dumbledore left to clear your name." Snape didn't turn. He just stood there, staring at something in the distance. Why was he ignoring him? Harry tried again. "You're free, now. Voldemort and his Death Eaters are gone. You carried the tasks Professor Dumbledore set for you. We can tell everyone that you were true to the Cause all along. I'll see to it." Snape, or was it Professor Snape now, still ignored him. Harry glanced over the ledge. There wasn't much to see. What was so fascinating about this bleak ghost of a town? "Where's Hermione?" Harry asked instead. "She went to tell you the news, didn't she?"

Snape turned his head to glance at him. His eyes were so hollow. He waved his hand vaguely. "She's over there." After a pause, he nodded at him, "I appreciate the efforts you... and her, made on my behalf, but you needn't bother. It's fine." He returned his gaze to the view below.

Harry frowned. Something was wrong. He could feel it. "Where's Hermione?" he asked again.

"She was good to me. She… oh, what does it matter now," Snape murmured softly after an endless moment. "Her hair glitters in the firelight. Did you know that? I do," he suddenly added. He turned his head back towards him and Harry saw he was smiling a little.

Harry's hand closed around his wand again. Something was definitely wrong here. "Answer me, Snape. Where is my friend?"

Snape frowned at him and shook his head slowly. "Not merely a friend. No… she was so much more." His eyes wandered away from Harry's, back to the dirty, washed-out streets below them. "At least… at least she could have."

Harry felt rage at the man. He embraced the feeling. He didn't want to acknowledge the terror that bubbled beneath it. No more. No more, he promised himself. He grabbed Snape by his overcoat and shook him. "Stop blathering and answer me, damn it! Where is my friend? What did you do to her?"

Snape didn't resist him, but he gave no reply either, no matter how hard he shook him. Harry stopped. He'd bit his lip, he saw. Hard. There was blood flowing between his teeth, dripping down his chin. "Do you sometime wish you were never born?" Snape asked him, his tone all casual, as though nothing had just happened. He didn't seem to notice the blood still trickling from his mouth.

"What?"

"Wouldn't the world be better off if you were never born, Harry Potter? Your parents would still be alive. Their friends wouldn't spend most of their lives in penury or rotting in Azkaban. Those relatives of yours, the Dursleys, would've had the normal, magicless lives they dreamed of. All your friends and schoolmates, they'd have had normal, happy school-years instead of going back to a war-zone for seven, long, miserable years. They'd all be still alive. That pet owl of yours would still have breath and life in her yet. Good old Minerva wouldn't be a cripple. Dumbledore would still be alive. You liked Dumbledore, didn't you, Harry James Potter?" With each word Snape gained more animation. There was a fierce joy to him now as he hurled his accusations at Harry. Harry stumbled back from him and his horrid, frightfull words. "You didn't leave much tying you to this world, did you?" Snape went on. "You destroyed them all, one by one. What do you have left now, eh? Not much, I'd bet. Not much." Suddenly, he seemed to lose interest in Harry, to Harry's great relief.

The smirk was gone from his bloody lips now but Harry couldn't take his eyes off of them. So he saw it when it happened. "Morsmordre!" those lips molded the curse, slowly, in a hate-filled voice. A blinding flash of green shot up and away.

When Harry blinked away his tears, Snape stood on the ledge, backlit by the giant burning skull and snake that hovered now in the sky somewhere in the mid-distance over the town. Snape gave him a considering look. "See you soon?" he asked Harry. And then he jumped.

FIN

Author's Notes: In case you're confused, the timeline in sections I-VI is reversed (so each occurs before the section preceding it) and section VII follows shortly after section I.