How long did it take for a teardrop to roll down your cheek?
For Severus Snape, it took, hours, days, weeks.
And he knew that by the time it it rolled off his chin, splashing on the hard floor of the Boathouse, he’d be dead.
Snape’s parents though of him as a failure.
In fact most people did.
The only person who didn’t he’d lost to that prat Potter.
But even Potter was better than Sirius.
As bad as James Potter was, as bad as his jeers and snide comments were, Sirius was worse. Sirius was merciless.
What had he done to deserve it?
He knew he was quick-tempered, and being put in to Slytherin was not the best of starts.
And hey - his father was proud at first.
His mother was disappointed from the start.
It was when his father realized his son’s effort would amount to nothing, that Snape stopped believing too.
That was probably the biggest mistake of his life.
His mother had always pushed him too hard.
It was because of his mother, he’d gone out in the first place.
“Do something useful, Severus. Go out, and get me some firewood.”
He’d grudgingly searched in the forest round the back of the village.
And that trip, that he had reluctantly went on, changed his life.
The forest was a few miles away from his village, with a carpet of pine needles and the trees dautingly towering over him. Snape was just picking up some different logs, with a deep sigh, when he’d heard rising voices.
At that word, his ears had immediately perked up.
The village children called him that often.
His father said it was because they were jealous, and Severus agreed.
He followed the voices, to see a girl about two years older than him, storm off, leaving her sister behind. Snape could see how crestfallen she was, her eyes squinting incomprehendingly at the ground, her jaw jutting determinedly out like she was trying hard not to cry.
“Someone like me!!’ He thought gleefully.
Out of all Snape’s life, so full of regret. This moment was the best.
Her emerald eyes caught his eye instantly, and their eyes met across the wide field.The flaming red hair, those green eyes, sparkling with intelligence. Her pale skin in the sunlight.
He gingerly emerged from behind a grand oak, making his way towards the young girl.
Snape knew they were the same age, and he recognized her as Petunia Evan’s sister.
Petunia Evans was a cow.
He hoped that Lily Evans wasn’t.
Lily, tears glistening in those green eyes, made her way towards Snape.
His heart started to thud, thudding so hard against his rib cage he was afraid it might explode out his chest. Every fast paced heart beat was like a ringing drum, pounding in his ears. He started to pace towards her as well, never taking his eyes off those green ones.
A teardrop started to fall down her face, dribbling down her dimpled cheeks.
Snape walked until they were close enough to touch. He slowly rose his hand, and swiped the air in front of him.
Lily Evans’s tear was gone - Severus Snape had made it disappear.
He had dried her tears - now it was time for Lily Evans to dry Severus Snape’s.
Snape remembered every single thing about that day,
The smell of her hair, the faint aroma of strawberry and pea blossom.The sound of sparrows chirruping away in the tree tops.The feel of her delicate dainty hand in his. Those green eyes.
She was mostly silent, especially quiet.
Snape had been chattering away to her, happiest he’d ever been in his short life.
But then he fell silent, as a twig snapped behind them.
That was when they first touched. Her tight fragile grip had comforted him. She’d slipped her hand in his, and he didn’t ever want to let go.
Another twig snapped, and this time, Snape was scared.
A monster?Petunia Evans?Aren’t they the same thing?
Snape spun round, to face a scared doe, backing away in to the dark forest depths in fright. Snape heaved a sigh of relief, still holding Lily’s hand.
And then Lily started to laugh.
It was the most beautiful thing Snape had ever heard.
It wasn’t a girlish giggle, or a manly chortle.
Snape could listen to that laugh all day, look in to those green eyes all day, smell that hair all day.
He felt a sudden warmth spread over him, like a mug of tea after a day in the snow.
He started to catch on, the laughed was kind of contagious, and he started to laugh along with Lily. He wasn’t quite sure why it was so funny, or what was funny, but they both laughed and laughed and laughed.
The deer had cocked it’s head to one side, eyeing them suspiciously. Lily picked up a clump of grass, and held it out to the doe, still chuckling away. The doe stood still, it’s beautiful eyes blinking blankly at her.
One step forward.
Until, it finally was in reach of the grass. Cautiously, it leant forward and munched on it, Lily laughing tat it’s soft muzzle tickling the palm of her hand. She turned around, glancing at Snape. He held her gaze, a wide beam breaking on to his face.
They stayed out with the doe till seven o’clock in the evening.
He’d burst in through the front door, rosy cheeks, and arms full of firewood.
His mother had smacked him on the back of the head, sent him to his room without any dinner.
Snape had smiled the whole time.
This made his mother even angrier, and was about to give him another smack, when his father intervened, giving him an icy glare and leading his mother off. Snape ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time, rushing in to his room and shutting the door firmly.
Tomorrow had promises of teaching her how to make mud pies, making flowers grow, and chasing the village boys.
His heart had sunk to his toes, as this house, Slytherin, was declared.
Lily was in Gryffindor. Along with James and Sirius.
“We can still see each other,” Lily said doubtfully, her eyes flickering over Snape's face, as she studied it with those intense eyes.
Snape had known then, that the summer of fun was long gone.
Snape had a brilliant first year. He had a particular flair for Defense against the Dark Arts, and Potions. He had friends, ones that liked him anyway.
It was all going really well.
That was, of course, until third year. People started to pay more attention to Snape.
And Snape hated it.
James started to play “pranks” like making his hair turn bright pink, and making his trousers split down the middle.
The friends that liked him, suddenly didn’t like him any more.
Then Sirius came along - Sirius loved to tease. His pranks were merciless, relentless, all followed by the well known cackle.
What had he done to deserve it?
Snapes visits with Lily grew shorter, and slowly started to happen less and less.
One day, in fifth year, the two of them were studying in the library.
“I hate Padfoot!” Snape ranted, blowing across the cover of a book and watching the dust billow off it in furling clouds.
“Oh, he’s not that bad,” Lily said chidingly.
“Not bad?! Lily, he’s teased and taunted me for no reason for two years now! Sometimes....sometimes I wish I could be like Voldemort!”
As soon as he said it, he regretted it. He didn’t mean it.
Lily’s eyes narrowed, and she slammed her book down.
“ Goodbye, Severus,” She said furiously, fuming, and practically spitting. She gathered her things, and stormed out.
James was quidditch star, clever, good sense of humour.
Snape was not any of those things.
The minute when Lily agreed to be James’s girlfriend, was the day James stopped teasing him. But Snape didn’t care anymore. He’d always thought that he’d be the one to marry Lily, the one to have her children, with the same black hair as him and the same green eyes as Lily.
She was the only girl he’d ever loved, and she always would be.
It wasn’t the fact that Lily was going out with someone.
It was who she was going out with.
That night, he silently cried in to his pillow, till he could cry no more. It was wimpish, he knew, but it was Christmas break, and nobody would hear his stifled sobs.
He cried till his eyes were dry and raw.
The voice made him jump, and he brought his head out of the comfy embrace of the pillow.
“What?” He sniffed, his eyes red.
Snape almost died from embarrassment.
Having your trousers fall down in front of the whole school, was not as humiliating as this.
“Dad?” He croaked.
Even through the fiery embers of the dormitory fire, Snape could see his father’s face was stony, his jaw clenched.
“Have you been crying Severus?”
Severus didn’t know what to say.
His father hated to see any signs of weakness.
“Men don’t cry, you know that Severus.”
Snape was silent.
A new rage surging through his veins, pounding through his body, he remembered only vaguely what happened.
He was young, foolish and stupid.
Snape still felt stronger. Unbeatable.
He stood up to Sirius, and to Remus.
But never to James.
He couldn’t trust himself to not run out the room weeping like a little baby.
School got easier after that, with a newfound power.
He got an O in his OWLs, for Defense Against The Dark Arts, and for Potions.
Snape was thrilled to leave.
He remembered the last day of school extremely clearly.
The last lesson was learning how to cast a patronus charm.
Sirius had a big black dog.
Peter Pettigrew had a tiny cowardly rat.
Remus had a howling wolf.
Snape had the same doe that he’d seen with Lily the first time they met.
Lily had a doe too.
James had a stag.
That had made them kiss, and giggle like two little girls.
Lily’s laugh never used to be like that.
It used to be full of hope, a siren’s melodic entrancing song, that made you think of sunshine and a corn field in summer.
Snape had run out the room, and he’d never turned back.
A scummy cramped flat in Liverpool later, Snape was woken up by the snap of his letterbox.
He dragged himself out of bed, with a huge yawn.
Snape picked it up, and started to rifle through it.
His heart stopped.
Reread it again.
Lily Evans and James Potter.
Snape snorted, and threw it on the ground.
How could they have the guts to send that?
He flicked through the Daily Prophet, flicked to the Job section.
“Potion Teacher at Hogwarts.
Must have O in OWLS at it, and a Potion NEWT.
Come to Main Entrance on 17th August.”
Snape shook his head, raging.
He’d applied two years ago for the Defense against the Dark Arts post.
He hated Potions.
It made him think of jeering, and dry eyes, disappointment, and guilt.
That was the last thing he needed.
Snape flopped down on the couch, picking up an old beer bottle, and taking a whiff.
What was this?
No (good) job.
And he was going to the girl he loved wedding.
Snape rummaged round the back of the sofa, searching for his Muggle wallet.
“Accio wallet,” He said sleepily.
A short tanned leather purse zoomed in to his hand, and Snape brought out his credit card.
Shower - check
Barbers - check
Tuxedo rentals - check
Wedding - not check
His face reddened as Sirius leant forward in to his pew, his arm around Marlene.
“Hello,” He said cooly.
Sirius gave a lopsided handsome grin.
“Hey Snape. How are you?”
Snape nodded, straightening his bow tie.
“Fine, thanks. In fact, brilliant. Got a new job, actually.”
“Yeah, Hogwarts Potion Teacher.”
Sirius burst out in to that well-known cackle.
Snape curled his toes in side his shoes.
“Sirius!” Scorned Marlene.
Snape felt like biting sharply back, and he was going to, if every one hadn’t stood up and the organs belting out Pachelbel’s Canon.
Snape turned, to catch a man with a hefty grey mustache take his daughter down the aisle.
She was breath taking.
A dazzling angel in that white dress, floating down the aisle. Her red hair neatly scraped up in to an elegant bun, complete with a tiara.
Her green eyes scanned the room, and they finally rested on Snape.
She smiled, and Snape could see the same little girl he knew so well.
But not anymore, Snape.
That little girl had gone.
His master, his boss, had betrayed him.
A part of Snape knew this would happen all along. But even seeing your worst enemy die is not something you want to witness.
Snape couldn’t believe it.
Wouldn’t believe it is a better way of putting it.
He’d never get to see those green eyes again, except in his dreams.
That’s why Snape found himself at Godric’s Hollow, the night it happened.
The dead house. The walls fell in.
He found each step of the staircase harder than the last, each footstep as hard as a marathon.
He dreaded it with all his heart.
He finally reached the nursery; where a baby wailed and wailed.
But Snape didn’t make it as far as it’s cot.
He barely made it to the doorway, before he fell on the ground, noiselessly.
He cradeled Lily Potter in his arms, the only girl he’d ever loved, with staring unseeing green eyes.
It made Snape sick.
Inside and out.
Her silky flowing red hair, waterfalls of fire, were hanging limply.
Her skin was soft, but fragile.
The baby stopped crying and studied the visitor with curiosity.
Snape rocked backwards and forwards, Lily in his arms, tears flowing like her hair down his hard cold cheeks.
The girl he’d die for.
Snape knew he didn’t have long left.
Every heart beat was slower than the last.
He could hear muffled voices, and a sudden drowsiness took over him.
He knew he couldn’t resist it for long..He had to reap what he sowed.
Green eyes came in to view, and he gazed in to Harry’s watery emerald eyes behind round glasses.
The boy he hated and loved.
In the end, he loved him.
He just resented him, didn’t know how lucky he was having Lily Potter as a mother, having her true and undying love.
On the other hand, Harry was just the same as Snape.
They both wanted Lily.
And both hated the way she’d died.
The tear was making it’s way rapidly towards his chin.
The drowsiness gave it’s final call, like the Scarlet Hogwarts Express.
He took his last ever glimpse of those green eyes, and he knew that now he’d see them again.
He’d dried her tears before, and now she was going to. It was her turn to wipe the tears off his face. The tear reached his chin, and the sleepiness over took him.
The tear splashed on to the floor.
He was never going to wake up from this sleep.
And now he’d always be able to smell that hair. Hear that laugh.
And see those eyes.
Those green green eyes.
a/n:Thank you so so so so so much for reading this one-shot!! I love Snape so much, and I wanted to write what I thought he felt before his death.
Please please review so I can see what you think of it :)