Haven

By Dylan S. Thompson

There was a child alone, seated upon a rust-chained swing in an isolated playground. A gentle breeze was all that penetrated the scene, stirring dirt and fallen leaves at the boy's feet and all around. The boy did not swing – he had never liked to – but did enjoy the gentle rock and sway that his perch afforded. The sun had mostly set, bringing about the gentlest twilight, that wonderful place in the day that is both light and dark. The boy's favorite time, one of the few things he had ever thought of as beautiful. His gaze rolled smoothly across his surroundings, slowly enjoying the calm and silence. He felt content, perhaps happy. He wasn't entirely sure.

Soon, however, he couldn't allow himself delusion anymore. Sunsets, no matter how beautiful, ended eventually. He knew that, yet this one had been static since he'd been here. Seemed like forever. There was something not quite right, like someone was playing a trick on him. The boy expected to feel a rush of anger, knew that was his natural reaction to trickery against him, to having the truth obscured, and was surprised when he didn't. That should have made him even the more wary, but didn't. He quite liked the enduring calm. He returned his gaze to the sky for a moment before closing his eyes, considered just letting go completely and sinking, sinking, sinking even further into the silence and peace.

There are, thought a part of him that he didn't quite recognize, ceaseless layers.

But, no: He lazily opened his eyes again, one corner of his mouth twitching up in amusement. The almost-finished sunset was still just that. He rested his forehead against the taut chain and gazed into the horizon.

Some time later the boy heard the crack and hiss of leaves, announcing an approach, and then someone cleared their throat. The boy lifted his head and twisted the chains of the swing halfway and saw Lily, all brilliant eyes and fiery hair.

"Mind some company?" There was the barest hint of uncertainty.

"Not yours," the boy responded quickly, causing the girl's eyes to brighten. A beaming smile erupted upon the girl's face, familiar and unique, and the boy could see years and years in that smile. He seemed to know how that smile would manifest upon her everchanging face for all her life. At that moment he saw the years and years within himself too, every feeling and moment of the life of Severus Snape, and in the next it settled throughout him and ceased to matter. He forgot no longer, knew his life perfectly; enough to bemusedly imagine exactly what he should have said if he wanted to cling to who he used to be. But did not. Instead he returned Lily's smile with his own smirk and nodded to the swing next to his. "Never yours."

…