CONTAINS BOOK 7 SPOILERS
Instead of killing Lily, Voldemort pushes her out the way and spares her, just as Snape asked. Unfortunately, Harry does not survive (I know, how cruel can I be?), but Lily reunites with her estranged school friend, Severus Snape, to bring Voldemort down.
Snape and Lily are estranged, due to the Snape's Worst Memory chapter in OOTP.
The purpose of this story is to explore reconciliation between Lily and Snape. I really love who Snape is when he is with her. She brings out something wonderful in him.
I also want to point out that despite the fact that I've totally eliminated Harry from the story, I do want to stay as true to canon as possible, as long as what I want to achieve doesn't interfere too much.
This story isn't just the result of some crazed high I got from reading Deathly Hallows, but the information it contained will certainly make this story more believable and a more accurate reflection of their canon relationship. I was part of the JKR webchat on July 30th and she even said that had Snape given up the Dark Arts, it is quite probable that Lily would have come to love him romantically.
Some Things Run Too Deep
Chapter 1 – October 31, 1981
Snape paced the stone floor of Dumbledore's office. The sweat began to line his brow, his palms were moist, and his heart was a relentless hum beneath his ribs. Dumbledore had summoned him from a restless sleep to wait his return. From where, Snape did not know for certain. Dumbledore didn't elaborate in his message, but he had a terrible sinking feeling that it would not be good news. Fawkes was perched nearby, blissfully unaware of the torrent of hope and fear that surged through him simultaneously. An old clock ticked nearby. Nearly eleven. Seconds seemed like days.
His mind raced with thoughts. Surely Lily was okay. Surely Voldemort would consider his request, though, of course, not for the reason he had given. But then maybe something had gone wrong, Voldemort had lost his temper, and murdered them all.
No, Snape thought. No, I won't believe it. I can't think it.
Willing himself to block those horrible visions and the sick, poison emotions they elicited, he closed his eyes and buried them deep in his mind.
Suddenly, the heavy office door swung open and in strode Dumbledore, his expression grave, the deep lines in his face set with forced stoicism.
Dumbledore did not meet Snape's unwavering gaze. He said nothing as he entered and sat down in the high-backed chair behind his desk. Snape's eyes never left him. A hot nauseating wave was quickly forming in his stomach, for every moment of silence seemed to confirm the worst.
Dumbledore waved his hand to the chair in front of the desk, indicating that Snape should take a seat. He complied.
'Well, Dumbledore, what is it? Why have you called me here?' His voice shook with every word.
Dumbledore sighed deeply. He massaged his temples with his fingers. 'Voldemort has attacked the Potters.'
Snape's entire body trembled. 'What happened?" he demanded, not sure he really wanted the truth.
Dumbledore paused. This infuriated Snape. 'Tell me! Is she okay?'
'Yes,' said Dumbledore. 'She's alive. But…'
'But what?'
'She's been brought here to Madam Pomfrey, who has extensive knowledge with healing injuries of such a caliber, and she's safer here than at St Mungo's.'
'She's hurt?' Snape bolted up from his seat and headed for the door.
'I'm not finished,' said Dumbledore calmly.
Snape stopped, but did not turn around.
'Lily is unconscious at the moment, which is to her benefit, for when she wakes up, she will have to return to her grim reality. Let her rest, Severus, and sit back down.'
Snape obliged, grudgingly.
'Have you no interest in the fate of her husband and son?' he asked gently.
Snape said nothing, although he was certainly less inclined to care about them than the woman he loved who was lying in the hospital wing, apparently injured.
'Her husband and child did not make it,' Dumbledore said flatly, his eyes bearing into Snape's as though searching for his reaction.
Snape merely nodded in acknowledgement. James, as far as Snape was concerned, had been a thorn in his side for far too long, and at last he was rid of him. As for the child – Harry, Snape believed was his name – well, anything that was part of James couldn't be good. But he arrested that thought, knowing that Lily would be devastated when she returned to consciousness, and Lily's grief would surely be his as well, in all aspects except where James was concerned.
Having been so absorbed in the silence and in his own thoughts, Snape jumped as Dumbledore spoke again.
'I can probably guess – with a high degree of accuracy, I might add – what you're thinking, if what you said to me that night on the hill still holds true.'
Snape ignored this statement. He hated how Dumbledore could be so perceptive, and how Occlumency was no match for his intrinsic understanding of human emotion.
'May I offer a suggestion?' said Dumbledore.
'Of course,' said Snape.
'I take it you are both still not on speaking terms.'
'You'd be right in your assumption,' said Snape, clearly in pain at having to admit it.
Dumbledore nodded slightly. 'If you really love her, Severus, put her feelings and needs first. She needs time.'
Snape sighed, more from relief than anything else. 'Of course.'
'You may go, but we will need to speak again soon. Voldemort will rise to even greater heights of power now that be believes he has eliminated the threat outlined in the prophecy. However, his knowledge of the contents of the prophecy is woefully incomplete, but based on what happened tonight, it is null and void. If the prophecy were real, the child would still be alive.' Dumbledore paused, wondering whether to go any further into the matter. 'Are you free tomorrow evening at nine?'
'I can be,' said Snape. 'But if the child was supposed to live, who then, is the real threat?'
Dumbledore smiled. 'Surely you can figure that out. You may be young, but you are far from dim-witted.'
Snape thought for a moment. Dumbledore's blue eyes, though gentle in appearance, heeded an unnervingly sharp stare.
Realization finally dawned on him, and Dumbledore smiled as the shock registered on Snape's face.
'Lily,' he whispered.
'Yes,' he confirmed. 'Lily. A mother who has lost her only child. Nothing can compare to such a love, or such a loss. While I know that only your death will prevent you from approaching Lily again, I must ask you to approach her with caution. Don't give her a reason to dislike you. Try to mend your friendship. In the end, she will need you. It is my hope that she will come to this conclusion on her own.'
'Why will she need me?'
'That is a topic reserved for tomorrow night's meeting.'
Snape nodded and didn't push the matter.
'I have one final request,' Snape said.
'Which is?'
'Please don't tell Lily that it was I who delivered the prophecy to Voldemort.'
Dumbledore was silent for a moment. 'If you insist… But do you ever intend to tell her, Severus?'
'Is truth always preferable to a lie?' Snape asked.
'Generally.'
'So there must be exceptions.'
'Lily is an amazing young woman,' Dumbledore said. 'This is obvious to me in her loving and forgiving nature even more so than her magical talents. And she has brought out something in you, which, I will admit, I never believed possible. She deserves the truth in the end. And if your love for her is as deep as you claim, and if she can see that, then yes, I believe your relationship will survive, and ultimately be strengthened by your confession.'
Snape said nothing.
'You may go, Severus. Good night.'
With Dumbledore's dismissal, he left the office and decided he needed some fresh air to clear his head. His mind was reeling. He and Lily hadn't spoken in six years simply because he had accidentally let that vile word slip past his lips in a moment of cruel humiliation. How on earth would she ever forgive him for being the fuel that caused the death of James and Harry?
A thin sliver of silver moon hung low in the sky just above the trees of the Forbidden Forest. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, but did little to slow his racing thoughts.
He strolled the grounds for a good half hour. He ended up on the castle's far side, his eyes immediately drawn to the yellow squares of light coming from the hospital wing.
His heart leapt. Lily was alive. And she was closer now than she had been since they finished school four years earlier. He couldn't wait. He needed to get to the hospital wing.
He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he paid no heed to the actual path to the hospital wing. His feet – and his heart – knew where to go.