Entry tags:

fic, james, lily, snape

Special delivery for lexyeuxverts
Title: Shards of Glass
Author: kereia
Recipient:lesyeuxverts
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Lily/Severus, Lily/James implied
Word Count: 9289
Warnings: explicit sexual situations, implied adultery, violence, angst
Summary: Some things were never meant to be. Severus knows this better than most.
Author's Notes: Many thanks to H for listening to my crazy ideas, and to my beta for all her help.

Shards of Glass


Uncontrolled magic swept through the house. It rippled along the sound waves of shattering glass and an outcry of hopeless rage. Behind it, silence rolled into the void only to be broken by the pounding of hurried footsteps.

His back turned towards her, Severus heard his wife stop dead in her tracks as soon as she’d thrown open the study door. He bent his head, wishing he could melt further into the shadows. His hair hung limp and stringy around his face—like black seaweed that had been lifted from the ocean, drops of water still clinging to the strands. His hands tightened around the back of the chair; he could not look at her. His breathing was heavy. In spite of the fire, the room was cold enough for his breath to appear as little puffs of smoke. He fought against the tightening knot around his throat, closed his eyes, and forced his lungs into an even rhythm. Through his eyelids, he could see the glow of dieing flames inside the fireplace.

“What happened?” Lily asked breathlessly. The room grew brighter, and when he opened his eyes, he realised that she’d lighted the stained-glass lamps throughout the room. Rows and rows of floor to ceiling book shelves lined the walls. A matching pair of armchairs stood grouped around the fireplace and an elegantly carved desk was situated in front of the window. The arrangement was completed by two uncomfortable high-backed chairs in front of it and a leather-covered executive chair behind it.

Afraid that his resolve might falter, he turned away from her. “It can’t go on like this,” he whispered quietly. He could hear Lily come up behind him, and he splayed his hands against the polished mahogany of his desk. Papers were strewn across the surface, and two ink-stained quills had been heedlessly thrown on top of them, a dark, black drop hanging from the sharpened tip of the larger one. Behind the desk, the gilded mirror was cracked, and its shards littered the floor, a broken glass of bourbon among them.

She placed a hand upon his arm. “What’s going on?” When he refused to answer, her voice grew stern. “Severus, I am sorry that we fought earlier, but this,” she gestured to the mess on the floor, “isn’t going to help.”

A hallow laugh rose from his throat, and he turned away from his wife. “You were right, I am my own worst enemy.” His fingertips brushed against the letter opener, and his hands convulsed involuntarily. “I tried so hard to believe, but I only ran deeper into a hell of my own making.”

Her closeness and the familiar warmth of her body against his back almost brought him to his knees. It tore him apart to realise that they’d never really had a chance to be happy together. Despite this knowledge, he wished that he could stay with her for just one more day—one hour even would be enough, but there was no time. He was already slipping away. He felt so cold: his skin, his breath, the very blood in his veins felt frozen to solid ice.

“You tried your best, Severus. Don’t think I don’t know that. The decisions you made … no one blames you, least of all me. You only did what you thought was right.” He trembled beneath her touch, and she rubbed his back compassionately.

He inhaled harshly, trying to gather what courage he had left, but he only found despair. His long, pale hand tightened around the letter opener. There were so many things he wanted to say to her but, for once in his life, he could not find the words—they flitted erratically around his head, just out of reach, like frightened hummingbirds.

“If you like, I’ll stay with you toni—“ She broke of with a startled sound, unable to finish the sentence. Instinctively, she jerked backwards. Her hands clawed at empty air, and her eyes flickered down to the handle of the letter opener that protruded from her chest.

“I’m sorry, Lily.” His voice was hoarse with agony, and when her wide-eyed gaze found his, he felt petrified to his very core. “I’m so sorry that I couldn’t let go.”

Lily’s knees buckled, and she fell to the ground. The impact of her body was softened by the lush red carpet. “Why?” she asked. The question was almost drowned out by the wet gurgle in her throat. Blood seeped out of the corners of her mouth, and she crumbled against the side of the desk.

Severus loomed above her. His hands twitched as he physically restrained himself from touching her. The cold inside his bones spread to his heart, and he felt as if he was lying next to her on the hard, frozen ground, his life seeping away, darkness rushing into the empty husk of his body. He watched Lily die, his horror at what he had done leaving him too numb for tears.

“Why?” she whispered again, and the insistent edge in her voice shook him out of his stupor. He swallowed past the lump in his throat, kneeled, and tenderly brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes.

“Because I can’t fight while you live,” he answered as her last breath fogged the air.

* * * * *

Snape didn’t know how long he’d been senseless. While he struggled towards consciousness, he was unaware of his surroundings. Neither sight nor sound could overcome the agony inside his body. Every inch of him felt as if he was submerged in a boiling ocean of oil and fire. Yet, he struggled against the tempting pull of oblivion and ignored its promises of relief and comfort. Only the knowledge that defeat would be followed by death gave him the strength to command his body.

Slowly, fighting for every inch, he moved his hand into the folds of his robes. When his fingertips touched the smooth surface of the vial in this pocket, he shivered. The glass was cold to his touch, the sensation just as painful as the fire of Nagini’s venom. For more than a year, he had exposed himself to it, gaining a partial immunity, but it had not been enough. He carefully grasped the vial and raised it to his mouth. It seemed to take hours. His stiff fingers squeezed against the sides of the stopper and it vanished. He had prepared everything as best as he could.

Being in too much pain to open his eyes, he parted his lips and tipped the vial’s contents into his mouth. The acidic liquid burned his throat. He gagged and convulsed on the wooden floor, stirring up the dust around him. It was difficult to swallow—his throat seemed thick and clotted but, in the end, he succeeded. Relief briefly alleviated the pain, but retrieving the antidote had drained him. As his hand flopped limply onto the floor of the Shrieking Shack, Severus Snape succumbed to darkness once again.

* * * * *

By the time he Apparated into his study, the thunderstorm outside had spent most of its fury. His hair was drenched, and his long, black cloak hung sodden and wet around his thin shoulders. Lightning split the sky in half, the vivid flash throwing the room into harsh shades of grey and white. His hands trembling, Severus unfastened his cloak and threw it carelessly onto the floor. His whole body was shaking from the cold. A myriad of sharp stings racked his body—a remnant of Nagini’s venom that neither time nor magic had been able to cure.

He pulled out his wand and lighted the fireplace, but soot and ash denied nourishment to the flames, and the small flickering glow was not enough to warm his bones. Unwilling to clean and restock the wood, he turned to the decanter on the side table of his desk and poured himself a generous drink. The first swallow of bourbon scalded his throat, but the warmth that unfurled inside his stomach soothed the pain of his body, though the pain inside his heart was beyond consolation. He placed the glass on the mantelpiece and leaned his forehead against the stone masonry. His breath came in harsh, staccato pants, and a ragged moan tore out of the depth of his throat.

“Why?” he whispered. “Why can I never win?”

“Because you never believed that you could.”

Severus jerked upright. His eyes fastened on Lily’s face inside the mirror. He picked up the glass and took a long draft. “Go away,” he said roughly.

The translucent spectre swayed gently inside the gilded frame, like a leaf tumbling on a gust of wind. “You have to stop fighting the truth, Severus.”

His hand balling into a fist, he stood motionless, his body turned partially away from her.

Lily’s voice grew hard and angry. “This is killing you. Do you think I don’t know what I’m talking about? The harder you try to believe the further you’re slipping away, and you can’t—“ Her fist hit the glass of the mirror, and even though her ghostly hand did not cause any physical damage, he could feel the impact deep inside his body. “You just can’t give up like that, damn it. You’re a man of logic and rationality. You know that you can’t hold on to me like this. You have to let me go.”

Anger flooded his body, momentarily burning away his anguish. “I was happy,” he snapped. “We were happy, for more than a year. I did everything to keep us safe.” He broke off, his back rigid, his eyes burning into hers. “Why did you have to go back to him?”

“I didn’t.”

Agitated beyond reason, he approached the mirror. His hands clutched his glass so tightly that his fingers appeared bloodless. Bourbon spilled onto the carpet. “Don’t lie to me. I saw you,” he spat.

Lily seemed at the end of her patience. “Stop it. Just stop it. Stop running away. Let me go and live your life.”

“Did you ever love me?”

He watched her struggle for composure. Her face floated closer—pale white, her green eyes bright and luminous with unshed tears. “Whether I loved you or not, Sev, you deserve better than this. I know how hard you tried to make up for what you did. I know that my son would be long dead if it hadn’t been for your courage, and I know how you have suffered. But you can’t give up now. I need your help.” Her hand rested imploringly against the glass of the mirror.

Severus swallowed heavily, his throat parched and hoarse. He’d been trying so hard to make it alright. “I don’t know how.”

“You need to end this. You need to stop believing, and you need to call on those you hate most, because they are the only ones you will help you now.”

The vision of a barren, empty future opened up before him—a life of regret and shame and self-loathing, in which he flagellated himself with the knowledge that he’d had the chance of a future with her, and that he’d thrown it all away. It was too much. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. You are one of the strongest and bravest men I know, and you’re not alone.” She smiled at him, her expression sincere. “I promise, I won’t abandon you.”

A laughed harshly. “Don’t lie to me. I know that you’ll leave. You’ll go back to him. You always go back to him.” He shook his head and took a step backwards. “I can’t, Lily. Don’t ask me again.”

“You have to.”

“I won’t,” he yelled at her. All his fury and misery crashed over him, and he flung the glass at her translucent face. The mirror shattered into large, jagged pieces which clattered to the hardwood floor. Lily’s face vanished, but her voice floated back to him, a last warning in the bitter cold.

“You have always been your own worst enemy, Sev. Don’t make the same mistakes you made at school. This is your life. Don’t let them take away what you have left of it.”

Inside the flickering firelight, he saw shadows move through the mirror shards, hovering, waiting, calling to him in their silent siren song. Severus shivered.


* * * * *

The next time he awoke, he could see the pale light of morning flow across grey shapes and edges—a partitioned window, broken and partially boarded up, grimy floorboards, splintered and worn, old furniture, lopsided paintings, and a lone lamp shade half-buried beneath a dusty tablecloth that littered the floor. His throat was dry and raw, and as soon as he opened his eyes, ragged coughs racked his body, correlating with every wheezing gasp for air.

His entire body thrummed—every heartbeat a wave that spread from his chest to his limbs, each one deeper, longer, harder as it swept through his head—a constant undulating force that made him dizzy. A shallow groan rose from his throat, and he tried to move, but simply lifting his head turned dizziness into nausea, and he heaved and vomited bile onto the dirty floor. All sounds were muffled and seemed far away. Still, he listened as he lay prone and silent, concentrating on the wooden texture beneath his cheek and the smooth fabric between his clawed fingers. He could hear birds twittering outside and the wind rustling through leaves, but no voices reached his ears.

An hour passed before he tried to move again. He didn’t know whether the Dark Lord had been defeated or victorious, but whichever the case, he didn’t want to be found. His hand closed around the empty vial that had fallen into the crook of his arm. Slowly, he turned around and searched the room with weary eyes. His wand had rolled beneath a cupboard–an old chestnut monstrosity on short, curved, spindly legs covered in a relief of vines and berries. Gritting his teeth, he crawled across the floor, his muscles protesting every motion with sharp, stinging pains. By the time he reached into the shadowy gap between the floor and the cupboard, he felt as if every inch of his body had been transfigured into a pin cushion. The sensation of hot, white fire ravaged his bones, and when his hands finally closed around his wand, he almost sobbed in relief.

For a long moment, he remained motionless and gathered his strength. Then, he tapped his wand against the vial. The Portkey thus activated, he braced himself against the expected pull behind his navel. Yet, when it came, he still cried out in pain. He was hurled through space, twisting, turning, spinning, overwhelmed and disoriented, the agony too much to bear. By the time he arrived on a cool floor in a darkened room, he was slipping into unconsciousness again.

The last thing he heard was the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps.

* * * * *

Any guilt he might have felt about his deception was erased when the white swan-feather quill he’d enchanted accordingly jumped briefly into the ink well and began scribbling furiously across the half-written letter in front of him.

His jaw clenching with anger, Severus dropped his own quill and stared at the address on the parchment. It was almost two o’clock in the morning. He could think of only one reason for Lily to leave the mansion in secrecy at this time of the night. His worst fears apparently confirmed, he stood, Summoned his cloak, and turned off the light. The room was cold. For a long moment, he hesitated, weighing the comfort of ignorance against the fear in his stomach. His reluctance to confirm his suspicions filled him with self-loathing. Until Lily had entered his life, he would have never run away from the truth. This weakness had to end. He needed certainty.

One step to the left brought him to an overgrown garden next to a small cottage by the sea. Dimly, he could hear the roaring of the waves as they crashed against the cliffs. Although the sound carried on the hard wind, it was almost swallowed by the furious crescendo of the downpour that fell from the rolling storm clouds overhead.

Wrapping his cloak tighter around his body, Severus stepped up to the lighted windows. In order to remain undetected, he cast a Disillusionment Charm. He made his way through muddy grass and wildflowers that had grown up to his waist, until he reached the dull glass pane that allowed him a fractured view of the room beyond. What he saw made his blood run cold.

The single, shabby room was lit with two candles, one on the rickety table, the other next to the narrow bed. Lily was sitting on the threadbare blankets, her arms thrown around a recumbent man, whose face was hidden in the shadows. Her hand threaded gently through the man’s hair, and she kissed him softly on the lips before pulling back, wiping tears off her cheeks. As her body ceased blocking the candlelight, Severus finally caught a glimpse of the man’s face. A choking sound escaped his throat as James Potter smiled up at Lily, his thumb stroking her cheek. His face looked sallow and unnaturally thin, and when Lily pulled down the blanket, Severus saw that bloodied bandages covered James’ torso.

His startled gasp had been to soft too draw the attention of his wife, and after he had overcome his sudden numbness, Severus pointed his wand at the window and spoken an incantation in his mind. The sound of voices drifted to his ears, clear and loud, as if he were inside the room.

“It won’t be long, now,” James said.

Lily’s hand stilled above the unravelling bandages. “Don’t say that.”

With a wistful smile, James covered her hands with his. “There is nothing left to do, Lily. That bastard got me good. I’m just sorry that we had so little time together.”

Lily choked back a sob. “I talked to Severus this evening,” she whispered. Then she bent her head above their folded hands. “It’s just not fair.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did. I’m so sorry James, I should have done it months ago.”

“What did he say?”

“He was furious, of course, but I don’t think it was about me. You know how he is. He would never admit it, but he always blames himself.” Lily pressed a kiss to the back of James’ hand.

Severus flinched as he listened to their conversation. The rain drenched him to the bones.

“Well, it is his fault,” James said, his face grim.

Lily jerked upright. “Don’t say that,” she snapped.

“This could have all been over, if he hadn’t run away. I’m sorry Lily. I know you loved him once, but he’s a coward.”

Agitated, Lily withdrew to the edge of the mattress. “He is not. He just tried to keep me safe.”

“And you rightly resented him for it.”

“My grievances with him don’t give you the right to talk about him that way.”

James sighed and sunk further into his pillows. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Let’s not fight. There’s been enough of that.” He pulled her into a long embrace and buried his face in her hair. “I’m sorry that I won’t get to see the end of this war. Promise me that you will see it, Lily. Promise me that you won’t do anything foolish.” Lily tried to pull away from him, her shoulders tense, but James’ arms tightened around her. “I’m not asking you to stop fighting, just, please, be careful. Promise me that, at least.”

His arms released her, and Lily cupped his face in her palms. Her eyes brimming with unshed tears, she nodded. “I promise.” She slanted her mouth against his, and they lost themselves in a deep, passionate kiss.

Outside the cottage, Severus stumbled backwards, his body bent double as if he’d received a fatal blow. With a harsh snap of his wand, he cut himself off from the sounds inside the cottage and aimlessly wandered away, his path meandering through the garden into the vast meadow beyond, where he fell to his knees. As the rain pelted his upturned face, his fury matched the storm.


* * * * *

“Leave me alone.”

“With respect, Master, you ordered me to adhere to your schedule, and there’s little left of your healing draught.”

Cursing underneath his breath, Severus pushed the blanket aside and inched his legs over the mattress’ edge. The movement was slow and painful. Upon noticing the worried look with which the house-elf regarded him, he frowned and shooed him away. “Go on and start dissecting the flobberworms. I wish to take a look outside before I start working on the potion.”

The house-elf bowed reverently and hurried away through the earthen archway, deeper into the den. Immediately, the warm glow of firelight brightened the rooms beyond.
Nagini’s venom had almost killed him, and even now that he had survived the worst of it, he didn’t know whether or not he would ever fully recover. Since the fire of the venom had been purged, he’d felt chilled, almost frozen, and neither heating spells nor blankets had been able to alleviate the biting cold.

His face drawn into a grimace, Severus reached for his robes and wrapped them tightly around his weakened body. He’d lost count of how long he’d been in this place. He’d tunnelled the den into the earth when he’d realized that he would need a safe place in order to survive. It was a utilitarian home—four, small, interconnected caves, hidden beneath the roots and humus of the Forbidden Forest. As remote as the location was, he’d made sure to ward it with numerous spells and enchantments, and even though he was loath to rely on another being for his safety, Kanto had proven himself to be a loyal servant, and so Severus had asked the house-elf to be the secret keeper for the Fidelius Charm that served as his den’s most powerful protection.

Taking a deep breath, he wrapped his hands around his redwood cane and stood. Immediately, his head started spinning, and he closed his eyes against the dizziness which was slowly overcome by the stinging pain inside his muscles. Severus gritted his teeth and, knowing that the first steps would be the worst, walked laboriously toward the hallway that led into the forest. As expected, the stinging had eased considerably by the time he reached the wards that kept rain, wind, and animals at bay. Passing through the enchantments, he reached the narrow opening and flicked his wand at the thorny hedge that barred the way.

The forest lay silent and grey in the twilight of the setting sun. In the distance he could hear bird song, and insects buzzed around his head. In between the tall, dark columns of the trees, man-high ferns and hedges were scattered about. Severus took a deep breath. Even though he knew that cold intensified the pain in his limbs, he enjoyed the cool wind that washed over him. For a moment, he almost felt at peace.

He could not remember a time when he’d had the luxury of idling through the days without anyone expecting reports or information from him, when he didn’t have a duty to perform, a façade to uphold, or his life to risk, shielded only by lies and the skills of his own mind. Over the past few years, his life, his time, and his body, even his thoughts, had rarely belonged to him. The thought that no one was waiting for him now filled him with a quiet, profound relief—a sense of freedom that was at once elating and frightening with all its possibilities.

Unbidden, his thoughts turned to Lily. A bittersweet ache unfurled inside his heart. “I did what I could to repay my debt,” he whispered quietly, and the words were lifted off his lips by the summer wind. “I hope you can forgive me now.”

He stared listlessly off into the distance, his mind hundreds of miles away. For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what the future held. For once, he had no plans, no responsibilities, and no one who cared whether or not he was alive. Yet, he could find no cause for sadness in this knowledge. Not yet. His mind was occupied with his recuperation and, accustomed to solitude, Severus was determined to find solace in his books and potions.

An owl hooted nearby, shattering his reverie.

His brows knitting together, he collected his strength, turned around, and retreated back into his den.

* * * * *

He held the vial up to the light and swirled the azure liquid until tiny sparks of violet blossomed within the substance. A humourless smile contorted his mouth. He briefly stirred the solution with a thin silver rod, then sealed the vial and buried it in the folds of his robes.

He was surprised when he heard the door to his laboratory open. It was rare for Lily to disturb him when he worked. Taking advantage of the situation, he poured two glasses of red wine for both of them, retrieved the vial from his pocket, and added two drops of the freshly brewed solution to one of them.

“What’s the occasion?” Lily asked when she reached the bottom of the staircase.

He smiled thinly. “A successful experiment.” His eyes narrowed when he noticed the protective way in which she pressed her arm against her side. “Are you injured?” he asked.

Lily took the proffered glass, her expression nonchalant. “It’s nothing.” She sipped on the wine—a rare French vintage he had bought only last year—and her eyes flitted about the room, hesitant to settle on him.

He could see the tension in her shoulders and recognized the nervousness of her manner. She had avoided him for weeks now, and even though he had already discovered the reason for her frequent injuries, he had grown suspicious about whether or not there were any other secrets she kept. He had not yet confronted her about her excursions, and he wanted to be sure before broaching the subject—their recent conversations more often than not ended in heated arguments, and he didn’t want to accuse her unjustly and put even more strain on their marriage. The tracking potion he had mixed into her drink would answer his questions soon enough. His mind thus preoccupied with discovering his wife’s secrets, Lily’s next words caught him entirely off guard.

“Severus, I want a divorce.” Her breath left her in a quiet sigh, as if saying the words had lifted a giant weight off her shoulders.

The same weight barrelled into him with the force of a speeding train. For a moment, he stood frozen, his mind void of any thought or emotion. “So that’s how it is, then?” he said eventually, his voice flat and cold. The air inside the laboratory cooled noticeably. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement in one of the cauldrons on the table. Lily’s face swam into focus, but he ignored it. A dark, desolate loneliness swept over him, but his face never betrayed his inner turmoil. “You’re just going to leave. You won’t even give us a chance?”

His wife put down the wine glass and finally met his eyes. “I gave us more than one chance, Severus, but every time I reached out to you, you pushed me away. I don’t know what changed during the last year, but whatever it is, I don’t want to live like this anymore.” She approached him and put a gentle hand on his arm. “I wish you’d just tell me what happened.”

He pulled away from her touch. “I told you, nothing happened. I only wanted to keep us away from the war. Of course, I didn’t realize that you were hell bent on throwing yourself into danger.” He turned away from her. “Do you think that I’m a coward?”

“No, I would never think that. I know how hard it must have been to turn your back on your friends at Hogwarts. I don’t blame you for not wanting to get involved with them again, but I can’t just stand by and watch my friends die. I need to help wherever I can.”

“Unlike I did.”

“Sev—“

“No, Lily, you’ve made yourself clear.” He looked away from her and wandered towards the cauldron on the table. Inside it, a ghostly white apparition of his wife pounded furiously against the clear surface of the potion as if it were a pane of solid glass. She was shouting at him, but he could not hear her voice. The temperature inside the laboratory dropped further. “Is that the only reason you want to leave?” he asked.

Lily’s voice became hard. “The reason I want to leave has nothing to do with the war. I am unhappy, Severus. I dread every minute I spend in this house. We used to be in love, but after you received your commendation I felt you pulling away from me, and no matter how hard I tried you wouldn’t tell me why. Even now, you won’t tell me.”

He whirled around. “There is nothing to tell,” he snapped.

Lily pressed her lips together. “Apparently.”

“So, it’s not because there is someone else?” he pushed on.

Lily merely shook her head. “You’re not evening listening to me, are you? What happened to you?”

Severus turned away from her. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Her face flushing red with anger, Lily nodded. “That much is obvious.” She turned around. “It’s getting late. I’m going to bed.”

As he listened to her receding footsteps, Severus collapsed onto a stool beside the table. He couldn’t believe that this was how it was going to end. Despite the recent tension, he had been sure that their marriage would endure—that he would find a way to fix everything he’d done wrong. He had turned his back on the Dark Lord, he had immersed himself in his studies and, only five years out of Hogwarts, he had become one of the most renowned Potion Masters in the world—rich, successful, an authority in his field. He had bought a mansion for Lily and himself, deep in the wilderness of Scotland, far away from the war waged by the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters, and still, he had failed.

He wondered if his life could have turned out differently, had he not turned down Dumbledore’s plea for help, but the thought of leaving Lily behind had been unbearable.

With unsteady hands, he reached for a jar of ointment and rang the bell on the wall. Seconds later, a house-elf bowed before him. “Take this to my wife,” Snape ordered and handed over the jar. “She is injured.”

The elf bowed again. “Yes, Master.”

Only when the servant had disappeared, did Severus turn to the cauldron that had held Lily’s likeness, but the potion was empty of her presence.

* * * * *

As the weeks passed, a black and sullen mood took hold of him. He had ordered Kanto to retrieve several books from his private chambers at Hogwarts and had buried his nose within the ancient pages. His healing was slow and frustrating, and the confines of his den soon began to feel like a cage. He had hoped to find a small measure of happiness in his survival, but even Kanto’s news about the Dark Lord’s defeat did little to lighten the heavy clouds inside his head. He felt preternaturally cold, and the weakness of his body prevented him from spending more than a few hours in the small potions lab he’d crammed into the largest cave.

Even his house-elf seemed to be effected by Snape’s depression, and although he carried out his tasks with his usual efficiency, Kanto preferred to spend his free time as far away from his Master as he could, huddled on the bed inside his sleeping den.

Here, Severus found him when another nightmare woke him up in the middle of the night, and in a rare moment of pity, he did not wake Kanto, but shuffled into the kitchen all the while leaning heavily onto his cane. A hot cup of tea eased his strained nerves, and after adding another warming spell to his robes, Severus sat stiffly on the kitchen chair. The knowledge that his most loyal servant had been avoiding him in the past few days finally made something inside him snap, and he resolved to take a walk outside tomorrow and send Kanto on several errands, so they would both have some time to themselves. He had not been outside the den since that first time, and he rather suspected that his unhappiness was due to a case of cabin fever, rather than an after effect of his poisoning.

The more he thought about it, the more appealing the idea became. Fresh air and movement would surely improve his mobility, and the faster he regained his strength, the sooner he could leave the den and travel.

* * * * *

“You are not real!” he shouted.

Lily’s reflection looked at him with desperate eyes. “I am more real than the world around you, and you know that.”

He turned away from the window. “I don’t believe you.”

“Severus, stop being such a knucklehead. Your mind has always been your greatest ally. Don’t turn against reason, now. I can’t save you on my own. You need to think of those who can.”

“You mean your friends–the ones who tried to kill me once already. If it is true what you say, why would they help me?”

“Damn you. Are you really so stubborn that you would rather die than let old grievances rest? What happened at Hogwarts is long in the past. None of them want you dead. They may not like you, but they know what you did to keep Harry safe and Voldemort vulnerable. I only want to help you.”

“You? Help me? Don’t think that I don’t know what you’re really doing. I know you hated me from the very moment that I turned down Dumbledore’s demand to spy for your precious Order. As if that would have changed anything.”

Lily seemed at the end of her patience. “Will you listen to yourself? You refuse to believe that I say the truth, but you have not once denied that James and I had a son. How can that be if this life right here is real? Severus, you know which world is real, and which only exists in your mind. Stop losing yourself in this fantasy. You have to fight. This life will die with you, anyway.”

With a hard glance over his shoulder, Snape left the room. “Don’t try to confuse me. You’re the one who isn’t real. I cannot touch you, and I see the moonlight through your very skin. You are a spectre in my mind, come to haunt me. Nothing more.”

He flung the door shut behind him, and flinched when the darkened room he had entered suddenly came alight. Figures stepped out of the shadows, hooded and cloaked, their faces masked. Severus stood very still.

“Snape, old friend, has life become so dull that you must talk to yourself, now?”

“What are you doing here, McNair?”

The Death Eater took off his mask and permitted a small, thin-lipped smile to grace his features. “It has not escaped our notice that you have become quite successful, Severus. Many of us regret that you left our fold, and we wanted to give you one last chance to change your mind.”

Snape’s hand drifted slowly into the folds of his robe where he kept his wand. “The last I heard, you lot would rather see me dead than alive.” He nodded at the masked group around him. “I’m surprised the Dark Lord has not sent you to kill me tonight.”

McNair’s eyes shone as black as polished onyx. “That is still an option.” He raised his wand and pointed it at Severus. “Of course, if you insist on fighting, we can end this right here. I’m sure the Dark Lord will understand.”

While his thoughts raced feverishly through his head, Snape remained calm on the outside. He’d always known that this day might come, and he had planned for it–for every contingency.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, McNair, but I’ve ma—“ before he’d even finished the sentence, Severus took one step to the left and Apparated upstairs. He materialized in the bedroom, where Lily rose startled from the window seat. The expression on his face must have alerted her, because she did not ask any questions. Instead, she drew her wand, and by the time Severus had crossed the room and grasped her hand, they could hear the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Severus had made sure that no one but Lily and he could Apparate inside the house.

Pulling Lily close, he Apparated away, and when they reached the small village in the hills of northern Scotland, he knew that he would never be able to return to the small house that had become their home.

“Are you alright?” he asked and gently looped her arm around his shoulder. Lily had been injured during her work for the Order, and even though his discovery of her active participation in Dumbledore’s resistance had caused quite a spectacular row, his feelings of betrayal were rooted in concern for her.

“I’ll be fine, Sev.” She looked away from him as she had done often lately. Though he could feel the distance between them slowly broadening, he felt helpless to stop it. Doubt had begun to fester inside him, and in turn he had kept his distance from her.

Another short Apparition brought them to the mansion he had bought only a few months ago. It was supposed to be a place where they would be safe from the Dark Lord’s menace and Dumbledore’s folly, but he’d begun to realize that Lily would never give up fighting the former or following the latter.

* * * * *

Even the sunlight that filtered through the canopy could not warm his skin. Shivering, Severus forced his feet beyond the crest of the shallow hill. The ground was uneven and littered with protruding roots, broken twigs, and moss-covered stones. Every yard was a strenuous accomplishment, but Severus gritted his teeth and pushed on. A stinging pain accompanied every step, and sweat covered his forehead and neck. His knuckles were white around the curved end of his cane.

Only when his lungs began to hurt as much as his legs, did he finally admit defeat and sat on the ground. He’d reached the edge of a clearing and sat in the thick, damp grass, careless of the moisture that soaked into his robes. His hands fumbled with the water pouch at his hip, and when he finally managed to take a long draft of the healing potion contained within, the liquid sent chills through his entire body. He fell back against the tree with an exhausted sigh and closed his eyes.

He knew that he had pushed himself too hard, but even though his body paid the price for his stubbornness, he gained a grim satisfaction at having conquered the impediments of his weakened state for one afternoon. A faint rustling caught his attention, and seconds later the long, furry snout of a forest dweller emerged from the underbrush in front of him. Small, yellow eyes regarded him curiously from underneath the large leaves.

“Go away,” Severus said hoarsely. “Shoo.”

The animal remained motionless and, more annoyed than frightened, he reached for a few large pebbles and threw them lightly in the animal’s general direction. “Be on your way, critter.” The eyes blinked at him and disappeared, the rustling sound fading as the animal departed.

A wry smile on his face, Severus adjusted his position against the tree trunk and decided to stay for a few more minutes before heading back. The air was motionless and quiet around him—there was no breeze to stir the leaves or his hair. Lulled by the comforting silence, he succumbed to sleep, the pebbles still in his hand.

* * * * *

The first time he saw her, he blamed it on the champagne.

He’d just returned to the ante room after his meeting with Dumbledore when he heard Lily’s voice call out his name. He turned towards the sound and found himself staring at a gauzy apparition inside the glass door that led to the patio. His mouth opened in astonishment, and his hand instinctively reached for his wand, but then the reflection became more real, gained colour and dimension as his wife stepped up next to him. Severus blinked and shook his head, but the vision had passed.

Lily playfully tugged at his hand. “Is everything alright?”

He made an effort to smile at her. “Of course, it is.”

“What did you say to Dumbledore?” she asked, and he frowned, taking note that she did not ask why Dumbledore had wanted to speak to him.

“You already knew what this was about?”

Colour flushed Lily’s cheeks, and she had the grace to look sheepish. “He asked me how best to present his request to you.”

Snape gave her a long, indecipherable look. “I turned him down,” he finally replied.

“Oh.” Her smile did not entirely mask her disappointment. “I told him that you probably would.”

“Lily, we talked about this.”

“Yes, of course, we did.” To his consternation, Lily avoided his gaze. “I know that you just want to keep us safe.”

He gently put a finger beneath her chin and lifted her face until she looked at him. “You’re not happy about this, are you?” Her silence worried him. “Please, tell me that you’re not risking your life in this foolish war. You gave me your word.”

Lily grasped his hand with hers and pressed her lips to his fingertips. “I did promise.” A smile played around her lips. “Are you ready to go home, now?”

His fears not alleviated in spite of her apparent sincerity, he nodded, and pulled her into a fierce kiss. Her enthusiastic response calmed his nerves enough to bring a smile to his lips. His wife sighed into his mouth, and the sound went straight to his abdomen. His tongue dueled passionately with hers, and he revelled in her taste and the way she pressed herself close to him, her hips instinctively gyrating against his erection. He groaned.

Lily’s hands wandered deftly underneath his robes as her lips trailed along his jaw. “You know, on second thought, I don’t think I can wait until we get home.”

“This is a public place, Lily,” he reminded her, far less sternly than he intended to.

His wife laughed quietly, and her breath washed softly across his throat. “Yes, but no one ever comes in here.” She pulled him backwards until his body pressed her effectively against the glass door. Her hands skimmed over his arse, and her tongue flicked along his skin. “I want you, Sev. I want you right here.”

Her breathless voice filled him with a feverish ache, and he caught her lips in another possessive kiss. His hands caressed her breasts through the light material of her robes, and Lily arched into him, her moans swallowed instantly by his mouth.

She rubbed herself against him, her body undulating in a fluent wave, and the motion drove him nearly crazy with need. When Lily hooked one of her legs around his hips, he grasped her waist tightly and pulled back. The sight of her flushed face and dilated, hungry eyes aroused him even more. “Turn around,” he whispered.

With a pleased smile, Lily followed the request and pulled up her robes with one hand. Standing behind her, Severus let his fingers dance along the supple curve of her buttocks before he delved into her wet folds. Her forehead fell against the door, and her panting breath fogged up the glass. Her muscles instantly clamped around his long fingers, and he took his time pushing her higher, his digits working in a steady rhythm. He could hear the sound of voices from the ballroom, and the knowledge that they could be caught at any time added an unfamiliar thrill to their actions.

When his own need demanded release, he buried his fingers so deep in her body that Lily rose on her toes to accommodate him. She whimpered, and her damp palms left prints along the glass door. “Damn it, Sev, I want your cock,” she moaned, and he was only too happy to oblige.

Parting his robes and unfastening the trousers underneath, Severus freed his erection and swiftly guided it inside her familiar passage. Her walls tightened around him, hot and wet and wanting, and he drove into her over and over, his breathing as harsh as hers. His hands clamped around her waist as he pushed her body closer to the door, and Lilly pushed back, mumbling breathless encouragements until he heard her gasp and felt her muscles strain, and the pressure around his cock sent him over the edge with her.

Panting, they waited for their heartbeats to calm. Lily turned around and adjusted her robes. A satisfied, dreamy smile illuminated her face as she leaned against the door behind her. “We should do this more often.” She pulled him close by the folds of his robes, and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “How about, I’ll just say a few quick good byes and then we see what else we can think of to pass the time?” She didn’t wait for his answer, but winked at him and hurried out the door.

A crooked smile graced Severus’ lips as he fastened his trousers. The happy expression was instantly wiped off his face when he glanced out into the garden. Inside the glass of the patio door, a ghost bearing Lily’s face scowled at him.

“I guess, I’m supposed to be flattered,” she mumbled distractedly. Then she brushed an errant strand of hair behind her ear and reached for him. “Severus. Severus, can you hear me?”

Startled, Snape took a step backwards, and this time he was quick to draw his wand. “Who are you?” he demanded. Though her hands did not reach past the confines of the glass, he felt a building pressure against his body.

“Sev, you have to snap out of this,” the ghost demanded. “This isn’t real.”

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that this happy little fantasy of yours won’t keep you alive for long. You need to fight this. I can’t help you on my own. You need to call the others. Think of James and Sirius. They can save you.”

Cold flooded his body, erasing all the happiness he felt. The image of a dark forest rose before his mind, bitter cold, a dream distant and brittle, but so full of loneliness that he fought the vision with all his strength. “Go away. Whoever you are, leave me alone. I want nothing to do with you.”

He turned away and walked back into the ball room, heedless of her shouted pleas to listen and be reasonable. When he found Lily, he pulled his surprised wife into a desperate embrace, but even the warmth of her body could not chase away the cold.

* * * * *

Another nightmare woke him up. Pulled from sleep by memories of torture and humiliation, he jerked awake, trying desperately to purge the images of Lily’s dead eyes, and the Dark Lord’s inhuman smile from his mind. Even awake he could still hear the echoes of screams and whimpers, of hopeless pleas and the snapping sound of breaking bones as bodies contorted beneath the Cruciatus Curse.

A vast emptiness filled his heart, and Severus curled in on himself as he fought against the spectres of his dreams. He was so cold that his entire body trembled on the frozen ground. Pain laced his hands—tiny pricks of ice that numbed his skin. Forcing his fingers open, he beheld the pebbles he’d picked up earlier, pale and grey and jagged, except for one smooth, black stone that nestled among them.

Shivers racked his body so violently that the stones fell from his grasp, and the nightmare images assaulted him anew. Shadows moved at the edge of his vision, and he closed his eyes to ward them off, like a child would a monster in the dark. He was too sick and weak to run away. He reached for his wand, his subconscious mind aware of his predicament long before the rest of him put the pieces together. Shrinking away from the black-cloaked creatures, he fumbled for one, lonely, happy thought that could save his life, but before he could even raise his wand, the first Dementor was upon him, and Snape gasped, shocked, helpless, and defeated. His vision became blurred and fractured, as if his eyes were laced with frosted snow.

Black bodies converged on him, tall and faceless, and he could feel the cold penetrate his bones, his heart, the unconquerable mind that had kept him alive through war and deception. He fell back onto the ground. The world became distant and insubstantial. His hands brushed against the black stone, and in a last effort to conjure a Patronus, his thoughts turned to Lily.

* * * * *

For a moment, darkness was all he could see and hear and feel and taste; it penetrated his senses so thoroughly that he wondered whether he had died, but with a snap, the world righted itself, and Lily threw her arms around him.

“Congratulations, Sev.” She kissed him soundly, and he caught her in his arms, both surprised and pleased. When they came up for air, Lily smiled at him and reached for the plaque he held in his hand. “Order of Merlin, First Class. I’m so proud of you.” She pressed another kiss to his lips. “You deserve it.”

Severus Snape looked at her in wonder, uncomprehending and awed. His mind was filled with an odd, cotton-candy sensation, and he could not shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.

Lily laid her chin against his chest and looked up at him, her green eyes sparkling with mirth. “What do you think about heading home a little earlier then planned?”

“I think that’s a marvellous idea,” he said, still bewildered, but more than happy to go along with her suggestion. “Forgive me, I feel a little light-headed.”

Lily smirked. “I do have that effect on men.” His frown only made her laugh harder. “It’s probably the champagne, silly.”

Holding her close, Severus tried to figure out what was wrong, but the longer he lost himself in her eyes, the harder it became to hold on to the nagging feeling that there was something he needed to remember. Looking at Lily, other memories overwhelmed him–their first kiss, the day they were married, the way he felt every day she’d been by his side.

He gently cupped her face in his hands. “No, I think it’s all you,” he whispered and kissed her deeply.

A polite cough caused them to break apart. When Severus looked over his shoulder, he found Albus Dumbledore standing inside the archway that separated the small ante room from the ball room. He smiled benevolently at them, but Severus could see that he was preoccupied with darker thoughts.

“Severus, I was wondering, if I might have word with you.”

“Of course, but I am sure it can wait until tomorrow.”

To his surprise Lily grasped his hands. “Go now, Sev. I think it is important. I’ll wait for you here.”

Severus did not miss the portent look that was exchanged between the Hogwart’s headmaster and his wife. Frowning, he acquiesced to their request.

* * * * *

As Lily’s life left her body, the world around him shattered. He was plunged into darkness, and the cold came rushing into the void filling up his entire universe with ice so cold to the touch that it burned his skin.

“Severus. SEVERUS!” The voice tore through the ice, splintering it into a myriad of shards that lacerated his skin, opening his veins to the frost and emptiness. “Severus, help me. You have the stone. Think of James and Remus. They will help you.”

His mind was sluggish and obeyed Lily’s command without conscious thought or resistance. The images of his enemies rose before his eyes, and suddenly, Lily laughed, and he felt tossed about, his bones rattling with jarring force. “Think of Sirius, Sev. You hate him most of all. Just think of him.”

Immediately, Sirius’ face appeared inside his head, and with it came the heat of anger. He struggled against the forces holding him, grasped for his wand to hex and curse the loathsome vision. Lily whooped with joy, and the cold receded further, taking the darkness with it.

Groaning, Severus became aware of the cold ground beneath him, the texture of grass and moss and leaves. It was painful to move, and his mind felt slow and addled, but after a while he pushed himself into a sitting position. His eyes adjusted slowly to the sparse light around him, and he beheld the strangest of scenes. The ghostly spectres of his former schoolmates-those who had been the bane of his existence–darted around the clearing keeping a horde of Dementors away from him. The dark creatures would try to attack them, but having neither bodies of flesh and blood nor any life that could be taken, Lily and the Marauders remained unharmed.

While Snape still tried to process the spectacle, Lily crouched next to him. “It’s time to go, now. I don’t know how long we can hold them off. You need to Apparate out of here.”

“I didn’t realize that they were here,” he said, still too stunned to fully comprehend.

Lily smiled at him. Her ghostly hand caressed his cheek. “I know. They probably sought refuge in the forest once Voldemort was defeated.” A translucent tear fell from her eyes. “I’m so glad you decided to fight them in the end.”

“None of it was real,” he said dully. “I tried so hard to believe it, but it just fell apart around me.” A hollow laugh tore out of his throat. “Even in my head, we couldn’t be happy together.”

Lily’s smile became gentle and wistful. “I think the reason that it all fell apart is that you couldn’t fool yourself forever.”

“I don’t know what to do, now,” he admitted reluctantly.

Lily waited until he had risen to his feet, then she stepped close to him. “Get well, don’t be too hard on yourself, live your life the way you want it, and, above all, know that I do love you, Sev, and I will be forever grateful for all you have done.” She rose on her toes and pressed her insubstantial lips to his, and even though he only felt the gentlest touch on his mouth, the unexpected gesture snapped him out of his stupor.

He swallowed heavily when Lily pulled back. “This is good bye, then,” he said.

Lily nodded. “Leave the stone. It would do more harm than good.” She turned around and walked back into the clearing where James greeted her with an easy smile. For a second his eyes met Severus’ gaze, and then Snape took a step to the left and disappeared, leaving the last of his regrets and sorrows behind.

The End