Disclaimer: Yeah, in my dreams.
WARNING: DEATHLY HALLOWS SPOILERS!!!!
A/N: I've totally guessed/been rooting for Severus/Lily since book one, but now that JK Rowling has penned it, it just makes it that much more real. And now my heart aches…and I just had to write this even though I hate writing and I haven't written anything in years, even boring school essays, so my writing kind of sucks. But gawd, Severus/Lily just KILLS me. And I don't think he got his fair share of recognition and appreciation in DH for all he has done. So I felt compelled to write this.
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Tell Me A Story
by IcyFire
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Severus Snape knows he will die.
He knows this before the snake strikes. He knows this before he feels its fangs sink deep into his flesh. He knows this even as he makes a feeble attempt to staunch the puncture wounds on his neck, aware that it is in vain. He will die. Before the night is over, he will die.
Fear grips him.
He lies alone, listening to the sounds of his own ragged breathing, as he feels the snake's venom seep its way his veins, knowing that death will soon claim him.
The thought of death does not frighten him. Perhaps he even welcomes it. But he regrets to leave the world with so many things left unsaid.
The truth dies with me…
He hears footsteps and knows that he is not alone. He is hopeful.
As Harry Potter's face appears over his dying frame, Severus believes for a fleeting moment that perhaps everything will be all right. The boy must know – the boy must understand. He will tell him everything. In desperation, he wrenches the boy's robes and pulls him nearer. He tries to speak, wants to tell this boy everything, but he cannot find his voice. Perhaps that is his greatest curse.
He remembers.
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"Does it make a difference, being muggle-born?"
He hesitates.
"No, it doesn't make a difference."
Because I will protect you, he wants to say, but the words are caught in his mouth.
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"If I use magic outside school, will they send me to Azkaban?"
"You're not going to end up in Azkaban."
She does not look convinced.
Because I will fight for you, he wants to say, but all he can do is sit there on the patch of grass and continue shredding the leaves.
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"I'm scared, Severus."
"You're safe. I'm here."
"What if another Death Eater comes here to finish me off?"
"Don't be silly, Lily. You haven't anything to worry about."
Because I will die for you, he wants to say, but all he can do is sweep up the broken glass on the kitchen floor.
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"But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?"
Because I love you, he wants to say – he struggles to say – but the words do not leave his lips. He sees the look of hurt and betrayal cross her face, and he wants to comfort her. But all he can do is watch her retreating figure as she climbs back into the portrait hole, leaving him tormented and broken.
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He remembers. He remembers everything because he cannot forget anything.
"Take…it…take…it…"
Perhaps someone else will remember - let someone else remember. Remember the pain and the anguish, the anger and betrayal, the bitterness of love.
No, no.
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"Look, Severus, look how high I can swing!" shouts the little girl with green, green eyes.
The little boy with dark hair leaps up and claps.
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His grip on the boy slackens, and he knows it is nearly time.
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"I've got my letter, Sev, I'm going to Hogwarts!"
"We're going to Hogwarts!"
"Together."
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Remember the happiness, too. Remember it for him when he is long gone and there is none left to remember him.
"Look…at…me…"
His voice is barely audible, but his words are heard. Two emerald-green eyes meet his own – and he does not care if they are Harry Potter's because they are her eyes, and that is all that matters.
Green, green eyes.
Far away, he hears the sound of a little girl crying. So, so familiar. And then suddenly she is with him, and he can feel her arms encircle his dying form, cradling his head to her bosom as his life bleeds away. He will not die alone.
And as he feels the red hot blood pulse through the open wound on his neck, he thinks of the words unspoken, stories untold.
Stories…
"Tell me a story, Severus." Her eyes are wide with fascination."Tell me about the Dementors."
He savors the way she says his name. The way the syllables roll off her tongue and take wing. Like flittering butterflies, flying high, high into the sky.
Tell me a story, Severus.
Tell me about Magic.
Tell me about Hogwarts.
Tell me about goblins, and dragons, and mermaids…
But there is more – more – so much more he wants her to know.
He wants to tell her everything.
But she is dead, and he is dying…
…and now it is too late.
The light dims in front of his eyes – like the sun at dusk, or after a storm. Or perhaps as it shines through a canopy of trees onto two small children huddled close together, whispering in fascination as they build up their dreams.
Tell me a story, Severus…
Tell me a story…about love…
And he begins.
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