Gone
by Tavalya Ra
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Rowling is a goddess; may she have mercy on my soul for writing this.
Author's Notes:
I wrote this story because I am a sap who wants Severus Snape to get (what this fangirl believes) he deserves.
If anyone wishes to archive this story on his or her site, please contact me at [email protected]. Comments and criticisms are welcome. Flames will be ignored.
Fanfiction.net does not seem to appreciate italics. Thus asterisks are used to indicate words that should be italicized, including characters' thoughts.
* * *
Darkness fell like a shroud over the sequestered nook tucked far away in the Forbidden Forest. Illumination came only from the crescent moon above and the golden light radiating from the tiny, sprightly forms of several dozen fairies. Their glow reflected in the again pristine, crystalline waters of the pond above which they hovered.
"We are in your debt," Tatiana, their queen, trilled. Her diaphanous wings fluttered faster than a hummingbird's as if to express the intensity of her gratitude.
"It was nothing," Severus Snape replied gruffly.
The cleansing solution had been simple enough to brew, but that point aside, he had felt obligated. It was the Death Eaters who had polluted the fairies' pond and no matter how distanced his heart was from their purpose, he was forever bound to them if by nothing more than the brand on his arm.
"It was a small thing to you, perhaps, but very great to us," Tatiana countered. "We cannot repay you, but we can do this much for you: we shall grant you a wish, your heart's one desire."
Severus hesitated. He was leery of any such boon. Fairy magic was by nature potent yet unstable; he knew too many horror stories from wizards whose requests had gone awry because their words had been taken too literally.
"I... I wouldn't know for what to ask," he said. Death, perhaps. An end to his misery, but he dared not shock Tatiana with the request. Fairies thrived on joy and hope; such would poison them as thoroughly as the toxin he had purified.
"You need not name it," she said. "Your heart knows it; it shall speak for you."
He felt pain, sudden and familiar, upon his forearm. Panic coursed through him.
*No! Not now!*
The energy of the Dark Mark was lethal to the sprites. He had saved them; was he now to be responsible for their deaths?
*By my past, I've cursed myself. No matter what I do, I can bring nothing to this world but horror and pain...*
The sting was different this time. Always it had been intense, but now it was agonizing, as if it meant to sear off his flesh. Roughly, he shoved back his sleeve. The Mark had never burned so black before; it seemed literally inflamed.
Then it began to fade. The color did not mingle with his skin, like a watery tattoo, but moved through a grayscale spectrum, growing lighter, paling to white. It started to glow, at first faint as a Lumos-spell, then increasingly brighter, until it was blinding, like a star, like the sun, then-
It was gone. The fairies had dispersed and there was nothing but the moonlight and the darkness. His skin stung, but far less than he would have anticipated. He glanced at his arm, expecting it to be red and raw, but it was unscathed, sallow and unblemished.
His fingers curled and he trembled.
It was gone. Gone forever.
Gone.
by Tavalya Ra
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Rowling is a goddess; may she have mercy on my soul for writing this.
Author's Notes:
I wrote this story because I am a sap who wants Severus Snape to get (what this fangirl believes) he deserves.
If anyone wishes to archive this story on his or her site, please contact me at [email protected]. Comments and criticisms are welcome. Flames will be ignored.
Fanfiction.net does not seem to appreciate italics. Thus asterisks are used to indicate words that should be italicized, including characters' thoughts.
* * *
Darkness fell like a shroud over the sequestered nook tucked far away in the Forbidden Forest. Illumination came only from the crescent moon above and the golden light radiating from the tiny, sprightly forms of several dozen fairies. Their glow reflected in the again pristine, crystalline waters of the pond above which they hovered.
"We are in your debt," Tatiana, their queen, trilled. Her diaphanous wings fluttered faster than a hummingbird's as if to express the intensity of her gratitude.
"It was nothing," Severus Snape replied gruffly.
The cleansing solution had been simple enough to brew, but that point aside, he had felt obligated. It was the Death Eaters who had polluted the fairies' pond and no matter how distanced his heart was from their purpose, he was forever bound to them if by nothing more than the brand on his arm.
"It was a small thing to you, perhaps, but very great to us," Tatiana countered. "We cannot repay you, but we can do this much for you: we shall grant you a wish, your heart's one desire."
Severus hesitated. He was leery of any such boon. Fairy magic was by nature potent yet unstable; he knew too many horror stories from wizards whose requests had gone awry because their words had been taken too literally.
"I... I wouldn't know for what to ask," he said. Death, perhaps. An end to his misery, but he dared not shock Tatiana with the request. Fairies thrived on joy and hope; such would poison them as thoroughly as the toxin he had purified.
"You need not name it," she said. "Your heart knows it; it shall speak for you."
He felt pain, sudden and familiar, upon his forearm. Panic coursed through him.
*No! Not now!*
The energy of the Dark Mark was lethal to the sprites. He had saved them; was he now to be responsible for their deaths?
*By my past, I've cursed myself. No matter what I do, I can bring nothing to this world but horror and pain...*
The sting was different this time. Always it had been intense, but now it was agonizing, as if it meant to sear off his flesh. Roughly, he shoved back his sleeve. The Mark had never burned so black before; it seemed literally inflamed.
Then it began to fade. The color did not mingle with his skin, like a watery tattoo, but moved through a grayscale spectrum, growing lighter, paling to white. It started to glow, at first faint as a Lumos-spell, then increasingly brighter, until it was blinding, like a star, like the sun, then-
It was gone. The fairies had dispersed and there was nothing but the moonlight and the darkness. His skin stung, but far less than he would have anticipated. He glanced at his arm, expecting it to be red and raw, but it was unscathed, sallow and unblemished.
His fingers curled and he trembled.
It was gone. Gone forever.
Gone.