An Unexercised Soul

Chapter 1: Here

A/N: This is my first fanfic, so please forgive my long AN. At this moment, this is a stand-alone one-shot. I have another chapter written, but I am unsure of whether to pursue it or not. Depending on reviews, I may continue it or leave it as it is. If I do continue it, this story will evolve into an SS/HG fic.

I had to title this chapter "Here". I used the word so much in the story that I really had no other way to justify it, heh.

Please review etc etc etc… Seriously though, since this is my first attempt at any type of fanfic, I know I'll need the concrit!

Everything belongs to JKR, of course.

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He was sitting in a small clearing, sparkling sunlight streaming hazily through the gaps between trees. He could feel the soft grass beneath him, and after some time began to realize that he wore no clothing. He did not feel naked, nor did he shiver from any chill. As he lazily looked around him, he saw his robes folded cleanly beside a bush. He reached for them and pulled the clothing on, though he felt no real need to do so. For once, for the first time in months, years, decades, possibly his entire life, he felt completely at ease, with no tension, no worries, no fears or regrets.

The first time in his life?

This sounded strange. Then he began to remember: This wasn't the first time in his life. Because this was no longer his life. He was dead, poisoned and squeezed like an orange until all the redeeming parts of his soul had flowed from his being like a silvery juice. All for the Potter boy, who hated him, who called him a coward.

Yet somehow, in this peaceful place, he could not summon his customary sneer, or feel the edges of bitterness that had always surrounded him, jabbing at him. His thoughts seemed to drift lazily towards understanding. Perhaps now, the boy, that Potter brat, understood. Perhaps he watched the memories and understood. And maybe, for once, someone might understand why Severus Snape acted the way he did.

The Potter boy… Lily's son. Here his stomach lurched. He had died gazing into Potter's eyes; only they had never seemed to be the property of the boy. They had always been Lily's eyes, and he faintly remembered feeling indignant, as though the child had stolen her eyes. And now it seemed that the bright green in which he had allowed himself to drown was now all around him. The leaves, the grass, the quiet sylvan setting. And in the distance, a set of swings.

Swings?

This was no forest. This was a park. This was not just any park… there was something hauntingly familiar about it. He gazed around, until he saw the flowers… flowers Lily had always loved. It had been her favorite magic, before she knew it was magic. The flowers would open their petals for her, and only her. But he had known, he had understood. He had been the one to give her that knowledge… the knowledge that she was magical. Yet he had never been able to express to her that, for him, she was magical in ways no other witch could ever be.

This was the park where he had discovered Lily.

The only flower in his pathetic existence that had not shrunk away from him. At least, not at first.

He closed his eyes and tried to remember. He wanted to remember now. For so many years the memories had haunted him, assaulting him when he least expected or desired them. He hadn't wanted the memories anymore by the end. He was more than happy to relinquish them to the green eyes in which he fell as his life leaked from the open wounds in his skin.

And yet, even though he had given the memories away, though it had taken every last bit of strength in his body, he still seemed to have them. A copy, only for himself. He could see her, and hear her. He could hear her?

"Sev."

Her voice was low and gentle, like chimes from a church bell. And he smiled – a real smile, as there was no place for sneers or smirks here.

"Sev. Severus!"

He opened his eyes.

And it was her.

It wasn't just a memory of her, though she seemed to blur slightly at the edges. It was her, as he remembered her, but not just a ghost. She was fifteen or sixteen, but her bright green eyes seemed older. Her dark hair, her auburn mane, seemed to blow gently around her, and he drew in a sharp breath. She was walking towards him, her arms swinging slightly at her sides, but palms facing towards him. She was smiling gently at him.

"Severus. Sev, oh, Sev."

She glided towards him until she was on her knees in front of him, her hands pressed against the grass, her face leaning towards his.

And then she kissed him.

It was a quiet kiss. There was no fire or passion, but it was a gentle kiss across his lips. His eyes closed, and his breathing snagged, threatening to belie something deeper. She pulled away, not lingering long, but she did not rush or flee from his lips. She was still smiling.

"Lily?"

"Sev, you… you are amazing. How did you… why did you… why didn't you…"

"Surely you are capable of composing a coherent sentence, Evans."

His tone was playful, his eyes smiling. She laughed, and he let the sound of the church bell chimes envelop him. So long… it had been so long.

She readjusted herself, and sat next to him, gazing out past the clearing towards the swings. There was no need to speak, though surely there should have been a million questions. He could have gazed at her for hours, for eternity. Yet he felt as though time were limitless, and there was no need to devour the image of her presence. She placed her hand on his, and a foreign warmth spread over his being.

Time passed. Who knows how long? It was meaningless here. It might have been seconds, but it felt like glorious hours. He was sated, like one pleasantly full after a holiday feast, but not sickeningly so. In due time, she began to speak again.

"I never knew, Sev. Why did you never tell me? I never knew your devotion to our friendship was so… eternal."

Her voice was quiet, and curious. She spoke as one wondering, not one pleading, or tempering regret in her words. Time was ephemeral, and they had transcended the opportunity for regret. He said nothing, but closed his eyes yet again, immersing himself in the sound of her voice.

"I suppose I should have known, though I doubt I would have ever understood. But please know, Sev, I always did love you, in my own way. I just… I was unable to love you in your way."

He smiled sadly, and shook his head.

"I know. You were… beautiful. Pure. I would never have been able to explain to you how I felt. It would have seemed… wrong. Tainted. And truly, even had it not been for that day, the day of our exam, it may never have come to anything anyway.

I would never have been able to love you without the need to possess you. Until I lost you to… well, to Potter… well. I coveted you. I wanted you for my own. I know that I would never have been able to love you the way you wanted. You could never find love in being owned. Not that you would have ever let me attempt to own you."

In another time, in another place, his words may have sounded bitter. But here, they were light and honest. He spoke the truth, and not unkindly so.

She was watching him speak now, her eyes bright with unshed tears. She understood, and he somehow knew she understood, without the need to use Legilimens to confirm his suspicion. Here, in this place, everything seemed clear. Here he was safe. He had assumed this was heaven, his own personal heaven. He need not fear her rejection, or her disgust. Surely even in the heaven of the ill-fated and unlucky Severus Snape this would not be allowed? Besides, her hand had not shrunk from his, and as long as he felt her contact, as long as the warmth remained to reassure him, he could channel himself through it.

"You know, you might have been a bit more pleasant to Harry. You certainly didn't make things easy for him."

He chuckled warmly.

"Ah, yes. I saved his life on multiple occasions, and I gave over my entire existence to protecting him. That was for you. The hell I forced him to endure every time he was in my presence… well, that was for your dear James. Forgive me. I needed an outlet. I already confessed my weaknesses, and never have I claimed, nor desired, to be a Gryffindor."

She laughed again, and did not seem affronted or indignant by his words against James, or his crimes against her son. It seemed that in the end, the sacrifice and the effort he had made on Harry's behalf was more than enough to absolve him for his crimes against the boy. Even in the eyes of his mother.

Her laughter quieted, and he saw a line crease her brow. She gnawed on her lip, and seemed to be considering something unpleasant. Here, it was out of place. Here, it was not unlike a black bat flying amongst a flock of cardinals. It was strange and foreign, and musn't be allowed to continue. Not here.

"Lily? What is it?"

She sighed, and turned to him. Not just her eyes, but her entire body. She held his hand in her lap, and searched his eyes with confusion, and then determination.

"It's not fair, Sev."

"What isn't fair?" he returned.

"This. This isn't enough. Please do not misunderstand me. I am of course grateful for your sacrifices… for your love, regardless of whether or not I would have ever been able to comprehend or return it. In fact, that's the point. It's not fair that you lived out your entire life in love with me. I was never able to return it, I never would have understood it, and you have proven you deserve more than that. It's not fair that your life ended with me, or rather, without me."

He shook his head, slightly confused.

"It is enough. You are here. You are here now. This, this is enough. This is all I ever wanted or needed."

Her eyes softened sadly. Her brows furrowed in pity.

"This isn't enough, Sev. This isn't real. This isn't living. This is like a glass of cold, clear water that will never quench the thirst, never truly refresh. This will never be true satisfaction. Nor is it eternal. I cannot give you that which you seek; even in afterlife, I cannot give you the satisfaction that you deserve. This is not a settled reward. This is a transition. You have to choose."

He felt it then. The slight frustration settled deep within his core. No, not this… he did not want this. He had been so happy, so content here. But now she had opened his eyes to what this was, though it may only be defined by what it wasn't. No, it was not real. His eyes drifted to her slightly blurred edges. In the end, she was still not his. It was pleasant enough to be near her… but even he could recognize that proximity was not possession, and even in this state, even here, he could feel the underlying need to know that she was his. Even here, where all bitterness and weakness and all Snape-like atrocities were set aside, he was still Severus. He still needed to possess. They were in a limbo, and even though there was no alarm set to go off when time was up, even though there seemed to be no real time restriction, it was still as though all were in a stasis spell. Everything waiting… for him?

She was like a beautiful wizard portrait. He could see her, and even hear her. But he realized now that he could not smell her. Because there was no hunger here, there had been no taste when she had lightly kissed him earlier. And though her hand felt warm holding his, he recognized that there was no real bulk to it, no weight. She was seemingly intangible, unattainable even in his heaven. She was not the one, she was still gone. She was dead, he was dead, and even in death, they could not be together, for she had never relinquished her heart to him in life. Though he felt no regret, he recognized the hollowness, the lack of real definition, the lack of any real existence.

Even in the beauty of a heaven-like place, the sadness of death did not escape notice.

Despite all these realizations, he did not crumble. Here, where every feeling and response seemed boiled down to the simplest of equations, here he felt wistful, but not distraught. There was no longer any regret.

Her arms reached for him, and he gratefully allowed her to hold him. She rested her weightless chin on his bulk-less head. He felt her skin, but heard no heartbeat. Though he breathed evenly, it seemed unnecessary. Yet he refused to stop drawing in the surrounding air, faintly hoping that he might catch her scent if he breathed deeply enough.

It was not to be, however. It was never to be.

"Do you understand now, Sev?"

He sighed deeply, and nodded. Every feeling, every emotion, every reaction, every response seemed ephemeral, unreal, lacking in any real depth. The pleasure he felt in her company was not the overwhelming joy he might have expected. The sadness he felt at her inevitable departure was not crashing down upon him. Everything was transparent, nothing was real. And even a deep shuddering sadness is better than an emotion that seems merely to skim the surface.

"So, this is death then."

He did not question her, he merely stated what was obvious. With a smirk evident by the tone of her voice, however, she responded.

"Not exactly, Sev. I told you. This is transition."

He slowly pulled away from her, and looked into her eyes, confused. She smiled back warmly.

"Transition? Transition to what? From life, from death… to what?"

She smiled wider and shrugged. Here it seemed that answers were more unnecessary than questions.

"I have… to choose." Snape struggled to understand.

Her face became more serious.

"Yes. You must choose."

"I fail to understand precisely what I am supposed to choose. Death? Or life?"

"Maybe. Sure, it could be that."

"Do you mean… do you mean I am able to return?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe? And what will death be like, should I choose it?"

Lily shrugged yet again. "Dunno. It's different for everyone, really."

"Lily, your answers are beyond ambiguous, and were you my student, I would be taking 20 points from Gryffindor right now for pure insolence. Surely you can provide a more reasonable explanation than that."

She laughed quietly, and opened her arms as if to encourage his embrace of the surroundings.

"No, I really can't, Sev. It is what it is, which is mostly defined, right now, by what it isn't. I know it doesn't make any sense, but it's not supposed to. If you go back, it will never be easy. It may not even be possible, and the attempt alone will be miserable, if not excruciatingly painful. If you continue on this path… well, it will be easy, but it will not be satisfying. It's death. What exactly did you expect?" She ended with a rolling of her eyes.

Truth be told, he had rather expected to spend death in a place not unlike the dungeons in which he had spent the majority of his life.

"What point would there be in returning anyway? I am loathed by the whole of the wizarding world, and will merely be a target for any death eaters that survive, and that is assuming your son is successful in defeating the Dark Lord."

"I would say that's a pretty safe assumption."

"Oh? Do you have special privileges here that alert you to the current events out… Out there? A powerful new gift of Divination?"

She chuckled, then smiled sadly at Snape.

"He's my son, Sev. I am watching him, all the time. I'm always with him. He may not know it, but I'm always there. I was always with you, and you never knew it. I'm not a ghost, but I do have an existence on some level, intangible though it may be. He will die, as you have done, and he will have a choice as well. He will choose to return. I know his heart, I know his mind. He will choose to return, and he will finish Voldemort."

Snape was taken aback. Slowly, understanding coursed through him. Now that he saw what Death led to, now that he was in his own… transition zone as it were, he understood what Albus had never been able to explain. He had thought Dumbledore was using the boy, like a stuffed pig fattened for the ending feast. He understood now that the former headmaster was far more powerful and all-knowing than anyone had ever known. He wondered if death would render him like Lily – watching over those he loved. Except… the only person he had ever really loved was sitting cross-legged in front of him, watching him carefully, cheerfully, curiously. In death, whom would he watch?

"So then, you are saying that should I return, the Dark Lord will be vanquished, and all will be well?"

"No, I am not saying that. I cannot promise you eternal happiness if you struggle to return, Sev. It doesn't work that way. Your life was never a pleasant one, even before Voldie came to power."

Snape snorted. "Voldie? My, but aren't you a cheeky one in death."

She grinned. "It's not like he can kill me twice! He won't ever find himself left with a choice. He won't ever be anyplace like here. You get to have a choice. Not everyone gets that opportunity, and he least of all. You still had a soul when you died, and your sacrifices, your devotion to Love, all that was good in you, though you worked so very hard to conceal it, all that granted you a choice. You lived your whole life for someone else, Sev. When I died, you no longer lived your life for yourself – you lived it for me, fulfilling my purposes. So, it's unfinished business. When good people die having given over the entirety of their lives for someone else, it leaves a hole. It leaves a soul that never was exercised for one's self. It's a debt that can be repaid, should you choose it."

He considered all this information. He scoffed at the idea of Severus Snape being defined as a "good person." But… a choice. Of course, he had always had choices in his life, and he could accept, without the pulling, dragging feeling of regret that had cursed his existence, that he had made many bad choices. But the good choices he made, however sullenly, no matter how begrudgingly, he had always made those choices out of Love. Those few good choices he had made had changed the course and direction of his life, and led him… here.

But could he fathom returning? Could he ever return to a life that now held no real meaning? With the Dark Lord dead, with Dumbledore dead, with Lily still dead… was there any purpose in going back to a life that would inevitably be peppered with more sadness, misery, and struggle? She was right of course. His life had never been a pleasant one, even before "Voldie" came to power. Why would any of that change upon his return? He could recognize that perhaps he would be forgiven for his perceived crimes, his misunderstood "murder" of Dumbledore, and many of his other atrocities that had been for the greater good. But even with all those misunderstandings rectified, he would still be Severus Snape. Unloved, unloving, and incapable of enjoying anything. It seemed hopeless and pointless. Yet, when he considered a death like Lily's, watching over others, he found no satisfaction there either. There was no one he cared to watch. Then, a question struck him.

"You died. You were certainly a prime example of, how did you phrase it? Ah, yes. 'Good person.' You died to save your son. Certainly you had a choice. Why did you not choose to return?"

Her lingering smile faded.

"I did not have a choice. I lived. I loved. I still love. I was blessed with a husband who loved me, whom I loved in return. I adored my son. I was happy. My life and the blessings within it may have been short-lived, and may have been deserved, but I still got to live and love. I died for my son, yes. But surely any decent mother would die for her son in such a situation. Had I not done so, my life would have been misery. My son would have died, my husband would still be dead, but I would have lived. And it would have been a horrible existence. You don't understand, Sev. You didn't die for your son, or for your spouse, or for anyone who openly loved or needed you. You did not die for the love that you had. You died for the memory of the love you were never given. You died to save all the things and people you were never given the opportunity to possess. Don't you see? The difference is that my life did not remain unlived. It was short, to be sure, but I took full advantage of it while I had it. You did not, but only because you were too busy living for other people."

She continued to gaze at him, desperate for him to understand.

"Few are given this choice, and I fully recognize it is not an easy choice to make. I suppose the choice is between that which is unpredictable, but offers the many opportunities of love and grief, the depth of feeling and emotion, and a peaceful, though never fully satisfying, ceaseless existence.

But you were never given the full opportunity to be loved, Sev. And love is something that every good person deserves. You earned your right to something you were never given a real chance to have. There is something of a… well, a karma debt owed to you."

Snape lifted an eyebrow.

"Now we speak of Karma?"

Lily laughed, but then her face became serious again.

"Something like that, yes."

Snape sighed and gazed off into the clearing again. The hollowness and lack of any real depth of emotion was beginning to bother him. His whole life had been drenched in grief, sorrow, agony, misery… unpleasant feelings, to be sure, but feelings nevertheless. He had grown accustomed to them, and in truth, it was hard to recognize himself without them as a backdrop. He had constructed his entire personality in response to feelings of misery, in expectation of a dystopian existence, and now… the foundation of emotions had fallen away, and he felt as though he were seeking something familiar against which he could lean, yet finding only open air.

Shallow. Everything felt shallow, primarily pleasant, but shallow in any case. Severus Snape was never one to appreciate the shallow.

Lily seemed to know that he was considering returning, and she smiled. "I think it's the right choice, Sev. You should go back. You should love, for yourself."

His gaze returned to her, and again he felt sad, and somewhat hopeless.

"Lily, I… There is no one for me to love. There is only you, there has only ever been you. I could never love someone other than you. It's still you, always."

She had been smiling kindly, but now her face stretched into a mischievous grin again.

"You don't actually know that. You have always been so devoted to me, so wrapped up in me, that you never noticed anyone else around you. Not really. Women could have thrown their hearts at your feet, and you would have never even seen them. I told you I've been watching you all along, Sev. Women have thrown themselves at you, and aside from a plethora of one night stands, you have entirely ignored the poor sluts."

Snape shook his head before she had even finished, rolling his eyes and scoffing.

"It's not even about whether someone else could love me. That idea is so silly and preposterous that it hardly merits consideration, let alone discussion. Regardless, I would never be able to love anyone else. " At the last words, his voice had faded into a whisper, and sadness had seeped in again.

Her smirk faded, and she searched in his eyes, exploring their depths, preparing her response.

"Look at me, Sev."

He obeyed. Her voice was steady with authority.

"I'm dead. I'm not coming back. I was never really there, not how you wanted me. You were in love with a fantasy, an illusion. While that love certainly managed to sustain you somehow, and undoubtedly saved your soul and the lives of many, it was a love that was one-sided and would never have been returned."

He hated her words. Ever single one of them hit him like tiny pinpricks, and for the first time he was grateful for whatever permeated the air here and dulled every emotion, every sense. Had it not been for that, the pinpricks would have been gashes from a machete.

"Stop, please. Please, Lily." His words were spoken in a certain tone of pleading he had refused to use during his adult life.

"No. You need to listen to me. It's important, because you are entirely missing the point. Your life seemed to be one great tragedy after another. It's unfair, but it's not as though you did anything to rectify it. Don't get me wrong," Here, her voice softened. "I'm grateful. Eternally grateful. I could never repay the debt I owe, nor could Harry. But please listen to me, because this is the important part. This is crucial to the decision you make about whether or not to return.

You will not forget this place. You will not forget me. This is not just a transition, Sev. There is a reason I came to greet you. This is closure. You need closure. You have not been able to love anyone else, because you never had closure; you remained devoted to me, and I was never able to properly set you free from that bind, because I never really knew about it. But I am here now, in some form at least, and I can release you of that."

Suddenly she lurched forward, surprisingly ungraceful, and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her lips found his, yet the surprise was not enough to deaden his response. His arms snaked around her blurred edges, and he sought something… anything… in the depths of her kiss.

But there was nothing there, nothing to be devoured. There was no hunger here, and with no hunger, there could be no fulfillment.

She continued to kiss him, but there was no passion. At length, he pulled away, and stared at her with a childlike pain and confusion in his eyes. One he had worn on many occasions throughout their school years together.

She returned his expression, and whispered, "See what I mean, Sev? It's not me, it never has been. Don't be sad, no, please don't be sad Severus. Don't regret. Don't hurt. It's all over now, and it doesn't matter. None of it matters, now that it's all been done." She seemed to be rambling nonsense words, but they were comforting regardless. He didn't understand, he didn't see what she meant. But her words were soothing, and it didn't hurt as much.

She rested her head on his shoulder, while continuing her rambling words. "In the end… in the end, this is what you wanted, isn't it? This is what you thought you wanted. But what you need is a love that can be returned. And this will never be that. But see, that isn't your fault. If you let me go, you would have the chance to love and be loved. You don't have to forget. It seems it's not in your nature to bend your love and devotion to more than one person at a time. You were never able to love someone else, because you were still living for me. But if you go back… you don't have to live for me anymore. You have done your duty, fulfilled the silent vows you made but never confessed. You can go back, and you can live for yourself, and you can try to love this time."

He was shaking his head, he was shuddering. He was grateful for the lack of feeling, but he also wanted to feel. He felt enough to be torn between the gratitude and the desire for opposite things.

"Yes, Sev. It has to be this way. You have to let me go. I can never bring you happiness, I can never bring you love. And you should go back and take what you deserve. You have to let me go. Let me go, Sev."

She repeated herself until he finally acquiesced. She had, after all, always been a determined girl. He had to let her go, and he had to go back. Seeing her, and not being able to have her had been enough to remind him of what he really wanted, what he had never been able to acquire. Finally, he nodded, and she held him tightly.

He felt a strange tugging in his chest, as though he were Apparating, though his surroundings did not change. He sat up, a confused look on his face. She looked at him questioningly, and then seemed to understand, though he did not.

"You're being called back, Sev. They are trying to pull you back."

"They? Who?"

Lily shrugged. "Does it really matter? You have a choice to make. You can do everything differently this time."

The slight tugging continued within him, though it did not grow stronger. He was not being rushed into a decision. But the tugging made another feeling clearer to him… he wanted to go back. He wanted to try again. Sure, he would still be Severus Snape, grouchy and sullen and sallow faced, cursed with a hooked nose and greasy hair, but in spite of it all, he already missed being able to feel. It seemed that the release he had long sought from his own pain was not nearly as relieving as he had once imagined. He looked up at Lily.

"I hope you are not suggesting that a return requires me to stop putting dunderheads in detention."

She grinned at him, and stood up, reaching for his hand again. He stood as well, and placed his hand in hers. She pointed towards the swings.

"I hear you've learned to fly without a broomstick. Took you long enough. I've known how to fly since I was 9."

He chuckled, and she led him towards the swingset, seating herself in the swing next to his. He sat as well, and she began to push forward, pumping her legs to gain height. He eyed her movements suspiciously.

"Oh c'mon Sev. If you're going back, you're going to have to learn how to enjoy simple things, silly things."

Grudgingly, he began to move forward as well, until he was rocking back and forth in the air. Whatever Lily might say, there was no way he would ever allow anyone to see Severus Snape, Potions Master and one time Headmaster of Hogwart's giddily pumping his legs on a child's swingset.

The gentle tugging in his chest continued, and began to grow stronger. For the first time here he began to feel real pain. He continued to swing next to Lily despite the pain, but sharp agony seemed to pierce his neck, his arms, his chest, and he gasped, staggering. His feet began to fumble and drag across the gravel beneath the swings.

Lily smiled sadly at him as she soared. "I know, Sev. I know. Just keep flying. It's just going to get worse, but go with it."

He was truly gasping in pain now, and wanted to stop swinging, wanted to stop moving his legs. Lily urged him forward anyway. "Fly, Sev! Fly!"

As his agonizing pain seemed to come to a head, Lily let go, and was flying. He released his hold on the swing, and found himself flying as well, but not landing. The pain, Merlin, the pain… it was worse than the Cruciatus curse. He heard her, faintly, calling behind him.

"Fly Sev! Fly! And this time… don't stop…"

Her voice faded away into the background as he crashed forward into… life. Again.

And all the pain and anguish that been stifled by his transition zone now came into sharp, exceedingly pointed and brutal, focus.