The Redemption | By : Tarpeia8 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Lily Views: 24358 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Note: I can’t thank enough blue artemis for the time she dedicated to this fic. She is the best beta I could have ever asked for.
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“This Barty Crouch shouldn’t be trusted so easily,” drawled an indiscreet voice in the corridor. “If my opinion had any weight, he wouldn’t be receiving the Dark Mark tonight. He’s not been tested enough.”
“Nonsense!” protested another voice, a female one. “Crouch is the most zealous person ever admitted to the Dark Lord’s circle. And he’s very gifted with the Dark Arts. Without him, the Lestranges wouldn’t have captured the Longbottoms so quickly – they say he took the man out with a single curse. Besides, his initiation task was much more difficult than ours. Imagine for a minute that you are told to find the sword of Gryffindor, and there is absolutely no clue as to where it could be hidden, and you have no idea about the properties the object has, only that it appears and disappears randomly.”
“Fascinating.”
“So he spent months ransacking what remained of the residences and the meeting places of Gryffindors, which was not particularly safe or entertaining.”
“Bah! The task I had to fulfill to receive the Dark Mark wasn’t exactly easy either. The Dark Lord has never treated anyone with kid gloves. As to Crouch’s first ‘exploit,’ it didn’t help much, since the Longbottoms managed to kill themselves under their very noses. He’s done nothing special so far.”
“Oh, yes, he has! Killing a few blood traitors is nothing compared to getting this sword. Between you and me, I don’t believe the Dark Lord actually expected him to succeed when he made his request.”
“It doesn’t surprise me a whit. If you look at his family…”
“That’s the point. He has nothing in common with his father or with any of his Gryffindor ancestors. He’s hated them since he was a child. If you’d seen the way he looks at the Dark Lord, or speaks to him! Or the way he showed up in this manor when he came back from his journey – just as he was, in his ragged travel clothes, with the sword in his pack, without questions, without complaints…”
“Oh, I’m going to cry!”
“… and showing nothing of his exhaustion! Even Bella was impressed. I’m telling you, he’ll do wonders.”
“I know he’s skilled, and it makes him even more dangerous. What if he uses Occlumency? How can you know this touching masquerade isn’t just bait?”
“If I didn’t know you better, I would think you’re jealous, Thorfinn.”
“If I didn’t know you better, I would think you’re infatuated with our young new hero, Alecto.”
“Bugger off!”
“With great pleasure, if you drop the word ‘off.’”
“You wish.”
“Why not? I noticed you haven’t brought your little brother with you…”
“Someone had to stay at Hogwarts. He kind of likes to play the Headmaster when Severus isn’t there. Which has been quite often since Junior was born. First the ritual and the feast, and now… well, I promised not to tell anyone yet. And when Severus isn’t on holiday, he’s locked up in his office with the Mudblood. Working day and night, no doubt. So Amycus stayed behind to replace him while we assist Crouch.”
“You could have stayed as well, since you care about the work so much.”
“I think I can get along well enough without your advice.”
Severus snapped the door shut, making the two voices die down immediately. A tiny smile of amusement had lit his face at Alecto’s remark about his frequent absences. He withdrew into the back part of the chamber, transferring his attention to the wooden chest in one of the shadowy corners.
Across the room, propped against the window ledge, Lily was contemplating the peaks of the distant hills looming against the ruddy sky. As the last glints of light faded, a peaceful calm settled over the extensive landscape with its permanently green shrubs.
For a brief moment, she turned her head towards Severus. He was wearing the Death Eater ritual attire – a robe of a rough black cloth with a narrow pointed hood. Its austerity was in truth far more impressive than the adornments of any expensive gown the pure-bloods used to wear. She could feel intensely how true his allegiance to the Dark Lord was. A nearly palpable aura of menace and power was surrounding him. He was a Death Eater with every fiber of his being.
He took a small serpent-decorated box from the chest and opened it with a swirling movement of his wand, which produced a feeble greenish light. It contained his mask – a monstrous metal figure. He pulled it out reverently. The mask, the most accurate symbol of Slytherins.
The question she had been holding since the beginning of the conversation in the corridor finally made its way to her lips. She tried to make her voice sound neutral.
“Why do you think the Dark Lord requested the sword of Gryffindor?”
If the legends told the truth, the magical object only came to the aid of Gryffindors who were in grave danger and asked the Sorting Hat for help. Whether the Hat had been preserved, however, she had no idea.
“The Dark Lord’s intentions are none of our business,” he replied, putting the empty box back into the chest.
There was probably no way to find out.
“What about Barty Crouch?”
“A curious young man. Gifted indeed, and good at Occlumency, but his loyalty is beyond doubt.”
He approached Lily from behind and gently turned her to him, embracing her waist. His robe smelled of smoke and Moondew.
“I’ll be back at dawn. Get some sleep.”
He looked at her piercingly, as though he were going to add something more but, after a long silence, contented himself with kissing her. With a glance at the baby sleeping in his crib, he put his mask and hood on and exited.
She watched the horizon darken. Obsessive memories of her past imprisonment at Malfoy Manor, of the sinister hall and the bedroom she had been locked in for days, were haunting her mind. She was more grateful than she would admit that she did not have to stay in the same part of the manor again. The chambers they were currently occupying were spacious and comfortable, although they were not isolated from the rooms of the other guests.
Far away, beams of bright light flared up in the sky. The Death Eaters had begun their rite. Lily turned from the window and went to the cradle to see if the child was still asleep. Severus had brought one of their own house-elves with them so that he would look after him at night. She returned the little creature’s smile and bent over the baby. A few weeks had passed, and his features had started to take shape. Soft dark hair had appeared on the top of his head. She knew he would have her face, except for the eye colour. However reprehensible Severus’ methods to determine his appearance had been, she was touched by the increasing resemblance between the child and herself. She wished so much he would grow up happy.
She stretched out on a couch beside the crib, her eyes fixed on the ceiling, where reflections of the blue and silver flashes penetrating through the window glass were dancing. Little by little, her eyelids grew heavy, and she plunged into a troubled sleep. Outside, the sky was tinged with a dim green, and the light formed into a skull with an immense snake rising from its jaws, hovering over the countryside like an oppressive dark cloud.
***
It was not the rays of the sun that woke her – the gloom had barely dispersed. It was a strident feeling of anxiety and threat. In the semi-darkness, Lily discerned two black silhouettes towering over her like statues. Severus was no longer wearing his mask. His eyes were cool and his expression unreadable as he gazed at her. But it was the second figure that caught her entire attention, paralyzing her with shock. Glowing, predatory red eyes were looking at her with an undisguised, almost scholarly interest.
The dreadful evening when this man, this monster, had broken into her and James’ house to kill their child, thus destroying both their world and their lives, instantly rose to the surface of her mind. Voldemort looked more terrifying than ever before, if such thing were even possible. His distorted face, which had already been unnaturally pale the year before, had become chalk-white, and his nose was flat like a snake’s, with two slits at the place of the nostrils. There was nothing human left within him.
He invaded her mind with the speed and the strength of the lightning, knocking her tentative mental barriers down like a house of cards, scrutinizing her most inner thoughts. She was used to Severus’ daily intrusions, but this was nothing alike. When he finally pulled away, she slumped deeper into the couch in fright and exhaustion.
“Extraordinary,” he commented, and Lily could not help wincing at the sound of his imperious, yet insipid voice. “Perhaps Dumbledore didn’t lie. Perhaps they are simply different type of creatures. You could torture them as much as you please, and the only reaction you will be able to draw from them is love. Not hatred, not rage, not grudge, but love.”
The scarlet eyes looked into hers once more, forcing a way through her memories. This mental violation seemed to take an eternity. When she was released again, her mind was transfixed, and her body was shaking. She had the feeling that the words the two men exchanged next were reaching her ears through a curtain of fog.
“I’m impressed, Severus.”
“Thank you, my Lord.”
“What do you intend to do now?”
“With your permission, my Lord, I wish to marry her.”
Even through her daze Lily sensed the atmosphere of the room change sharply, as if the temperature had suddenly dropped ten degrees.
“Marry a Mudblood, Severus? How have you come to this decision?”
“It is the ultimate way to humiliate her, my Lord. The ultimate way to break her and to destroy her dignity.”
Lily could barely hear Snape’s reasons. The tiny part of her mind which was still able to think had revolted at the proposal. He intended to marry her after what had happened? He had been serious the night when he had first alluded to marriage?
Quick-fire thoughts and emotions were boiling in her head. No, it could not be. Merlin knew she needed him. She belonged to him. She could forgive him. But to marry him? To let him arrogate to himself James’ sacred place? To allow him to transform from the torturer he truly was into her rightful husband, as though the suffering and the abuse he had inflicted on her did not matter? No! No! No!
She heard a snigger and looked up feverishly. A smirk had disfigured Voldemort’s hideous features.
“Hmmm. Walk with me, Severus.”
They disappeared as silently as they had come, leaving Lily gasping in outrage. As her shock started to wane, her mind cleared quickly.
The idea of marriage was laughable. Why would he do such a thing? Not only it would threaten his position among the pure-bloods, but it would also bring him disdain and animosity from his closest colleagues. Could he be thinking of her? Trying to make her condition more bearable? It made no sense. Married or not, she would remain his slave, an insignificant Mudblood obliged to submit to all his caprices and desires. She still would not be allowed to do magic, and she would surely have to keep wearing the necklace preventing her from escaping. It would change nothing at all.
Could it be another of his ruses? The mere thought made her body tense with sorrow.
An entire hour passed before Severus returned, visibly in an excellent mood. Without putting his ritual robe off, he sat on the edge of her couch and pulled her to his chest.
“It’s all right, my love,” he said, squeezing her in his arms with such eagerness that she could hardly breathe. “The Dark Lord has agreed. No one can stop us now. He even promised to preside over our wedding ceremony before leaving for Albania, which will be in three weeks. It’s an immense honor.”
Wonderful news.
He captured her face between his hands, pulling her into a kiss. Then, at last, he noticed her distressed expression and looked at her with more seriousness. “This was necessary. The Dark Lord needed to be assured of my honesty. The unpleasant part is over, my sweet. You’ll be happy. You will see.”
Lily could not hold silence any longer. Her tone was firm. “Will I still have to wear the necklace?”
He replied without a second of hesitation, twiddling the magical pendant hanging from her neck in his hand. “It depends on you, Lily.”
Liar.
“Then I don’t see what would be different if we got married.”
“Everything,” he affirmed resolutely. “As my wife, you would be the Mistress of my house and the mother of my heirs, equal to the most eminent pure-blood witches. My colleagues would treat you with respect and consideration.”
He could not possibly believe this claptrap. It was nothing but an empty talk.
“Why are you endangering your position for a ceremony that will neither benefit you, nor have much impact on the way I live?”
“Are you worried about me?” His eyes glittered, and the corners of his mouth rose imperceptibly.
She clenched her teeth with annoyance. “No. I’m just wondering why you want to go through such complications.”
“Because I’m certain it will make things much easier for you,” he whispered, moving his face closer to hers. “And also because I desire no other woman. You are the only one who has the right to become my wife.”
Lily supressed a sigh. She had been right. He would continue to manipulate her, justifying his dictatorial demeanor with passion, without any concern whatsoever for her needs. He had not even asked her whether or not she actually wished to accept his proposal.
With a new wave of anger, she watched Severus’ smile grow.
“Will you marry me, Lily?”
How very amusing.
“What do my wishes matter, since you never take them in account?”
“Excellent.”
He kissed her hands in a heartless parody of the customs, then stood up to change his clothes. She looked despondently at the crib. The baby had been taken to another room, and the house-elf was nowhere in sight.
“By the way,” he said from behind her, “the wedding night is an important ritual which cannot be rushed, or it will be spoiled. We’ll have to practice every day to make it as memorable as possible.”
***
“NO!” Malfoy sounded as though he had been told his line was to die out in a decade. His cries were reverberating throughout Severus’ rooms, and without the Silencing Charm protecting the entrance, he would certainly be heard in the corridor. As the interior doors were open, Lily had no choice but to listen to their argument.
“You can’t be serious! You are not!”
“I am.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
There was the noise of a chair being pushed away.
“Severus, she is a Mudblood! You can’t marry a Mudblood, just as you can’t marry an animal! It’s against the conventions of all decent society! It’s against the nature! They are inferior to us in almost every way. You know this.”
“If she was good enough to give me a son, then she is good enough to be my wife.”
Malfoy sighed in a hopeless exasperation.
“This must be an awful dream! Listen, I never said a word as long as you used her for f… f… fucking. I took it as an honor to be the godfather of your child. Narcissa and I even agreed to help you seduce her, though the idea of it was grotesque. But this exceeds all limits. I don’t believe the Dark Lord gave you his consent. He wouldn’t.”
“He did,” Rookwood drawled. “I heard them.”
“Merlin! What is the world coming to?” Malfoy’s voice trembled as if he were reading a monologue from a pompous tragedy. He tore into Snape with a new verve. “Severus, don’t be stupid. If you still like her, keep her as your slave. What you need is to marry a decent girl from a good family. There are so many choices; so many pure-blood and half-blood wizards have marriageable daughters, and they would be honored to admit you into their family. Don’t bind yourself to that filth. When my grandfather was Minister—”
“Oh, don’t start that again!” Rookwood cried out with irritation. “Leave him alone! It’s you who are being grotesque.”
A short pause followed, during which Malfoy turned to him angrily. “So you find his decision perfectly justifiable?”
“I knew it would turn out this way. If he wants to marry her, then he will marry her; it doesn’t mean he’s not a Death Eater any more.”
“There are things that a real Death Eater should never do.”
“The Dark Lord said it was acceptable, so it’s not up to you to moralize.”
Malfoy exhaled coldly. Judging from his hasty steps, he was about to exit the room.
“I wonder what our victory was for, since you both have started to think like a couple of Gryffindor blood traitors,” he declared at the doorstep. “It makes me sick! And you,” he seemed to point at Severus, “don’t expect me to come to your wedding! I refuse to take part in the downfall of the wizarding world.”
He slammed the door behind him. After a new silence, Rookwood spoke.
“You know him. In a few days, he’ll be back to apologize, and he’ll ask to be your best man. He’s just like that. As to your marriage, I understand perfectly. It’s better to marry a Mudblood than to have your house haunted forever by someone like Bellatrix.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem. See you later.”
He left as well. Severus appeared at the doorstep of Lily’s room. A carefree smile curved his lips as their eyes met, and he joined her on the sofa. Gently, his hand found hers, entwining their fingers. Lily’s gaze was fixed on the fire in the hearth, but she could not see it. What she had heard was going round and round in her head. Why had he decided to do this? Why was he compromising himself? Why now? Was it really for her sake? Could such a thing be possible?
Unconsciously, she leaned against his shoulder, allowing his arm to wrap around her. And if it were true, would their life be at least somewhat different? She did not care about the hostility of the Death Eaters. She preferred to be despised and insulted rather than be admitted into their circle, which would never happen anyway. What she wanted was… no, nothing.
She felt Severus’ fingers start to play with her locks, brushing against her neck. His touch was light and delicate. Too delicate.
It is the ultimate way to humiliate her. Was this what he had said? Had it been merely an excuse to appease Voldemort’s suspicions?
She was suddenly lowered onto the couch, and he trapped her beneath him, distracting her from further thought.
***
Rookwood’s prediction had been precise. Several days after their quarrel, Malfoy knocked at the door of Severus’ office at Hogwarts to make his apologies, offering to organize the wedding at his manor. He even provided recommendations as to where to purchase the best suits and some other items. Naturally, he did not give a single glance to Lily while presenting his compliments.
With the approach of the ceremony, a curious sensation had been growing in her chest – a feeling of apprehension, mixed with a secret pleasure. Or was it hope? What did it matter? She was tired of analyzing herself.
On her wedding day, she got up early, her eyes red from insomnia. Light rain was falling; by noon, it became a violent downpour. She spent these hours watching the weeping sky and the baby in her arms. The doors leading to her chambers still being soundproof, she had not the vaguest idea of how the preparations in the rest of the manor were going, and could hardly imagine the hustle and the bustle.
As the afternoon deepened, a group of female house-elves entered and carried the child away. They prepared a luxurious bath for her and then left to give her some privacy. Relaxing in the warm water covered with foam and bubbles of various colors, Lily resented bitterly that she had to spend the evening in the Death Eaters’ company. What would have been better than staying in this bathroom for the entire night?
Once the time came, she rose from the tub reluctantly, drying herself and putting a crimson bathrobe on. Her wedding dress had been unfolded upon a special low table in the bedroom. It consisted of a dazzlingly white, almost silvery corset with fine embroidery depicting two unicorns frolicking in the woods, and abundant skirts. A veil was a part of the attire, as were a bouquet of snow-white lilies, a pair of delicate high heels and a set of pearl-decorated jewelry. She examined them uninterestedly, forcing herself to chase away the memory of the simple yet elegant dress she had worn to her first wedding. Nothing like this grandiloquent magnificence, where she could discern a twisted allusion to her joyless fate. Lilies, unicorns – a sarcastic reminder of the fact that the core of her wand had been made of unicorn hair. And was she not, in some way, a unicorn the Death Eaters had captured and tortured, drinking her blood, but unwilling to kill her?
Very well, they had asked for it. Only a few days earlier, she would have given anything to receive a white piece of clothing again, instead of the red robes she had been wearing for so long. But now, she found it inappropriate. It would equal sacrilege.
“Dobby?”
The elf Apparated with a soft pop, an expression of devotion on his beaming face.
“Could you please turn these clothes black? With a charm a wizard cannot undo?”
In the wink of an eye, the dress, the veil, the shoes, the flowers, even the pearls in her jewels, everything was as dark as the moonless night. Dobby left with a bow.
A moment later, the female elves returned to arrange her hair and to make her up. They stopped in consternation at the sight of the funeral-like attire. She gave them her most charming smile.
“My future husband wishes for me to wear black, as he always does.”
Whether they had believed her or not, they made no objection. They fixed her hair into a tasteful chignon, letting a few small curls frame her slightly made up face. Then they helped her dress. Her reflection in the mirror was satisfying. Black was definitely the color that fitted her best, given the circumstances. Before exiting, she gave one last glance at the window. The rainstorm showed no sign of relenting. For a second, a flash of lightning lit the dark sky, and a lonely tree caught fire.
***
The hall. She should have foreseen it. Her throat tightened as she saw the sinisterly familiar open portal, behind which she glimpsed a long green carpet running along the aisle. Malfoy was waiting for her at the entry, decked out in a suit that must have been at least as expensive as her dress. Over the jacket, he was wearing a stylish dark robe, and his hair was tied in a perfectly neat ponytail. As befitted the master of the manor, he was going to lead her to the altar.
He looked up, and she had to repress a grin at his expression of indignation and disbelief. “What the hell…”
In a quick reflexive movement, he pulled his wand out of his walking stick, casting several Color Change Charms upon her, without result.
“Damn it!” he cursed in a whisper.
Time was pressing. He glanced over his shoulder, visibly unsure of what to do, then, gritting his teeth, inserted his wand back into the cane. He had not dared to Transfigure her outfit.
“Now listen to me, you filthy ungrateful whore,” he growled, grabbing her arm roughly. “We will pretend that your dress has always been black. If you try to make a fool of Severus or of any of our guests, I’ll make you pay for it, and I’ll be glad to duel him, should he be stupid enough to defend you. You’re nothing but a parasite, a piece of dirt that doesn’t deserve to walk on earth, unworthy of any wizard’s notice. I agreed to participate in this farce because he is my friend, but be assured that I won’t hesitate to show you your real place if necessary. Now let’s go, and keep your mouth shut.”
It was doubtless the most vulgar speech Malfoy was capable of. But of the two of them, he was the most frightened.
They stepped on the green line, and the discreet chatter in the hall died down immediately. The Death Eaters sitting in ebony chairs on each side of the aisle stared at her in confusion. In the deadly silence, each rustle of her dress, each of their steps, though muffled by the carpet, seemed to echo unpleasantly. Flushed with embarrassment, Malfoy led Lily to Snape, who was standing in front of the altar. His face was surprisingly cold and blank as he watched her approach, as was Voldemort’s. Whatever they thought of her ruse, they displayed no emotion. The blond wizard stood back to join Rookwood and Avery, attending as groomsmen. Opposite them, Narcissa and Bellatrix waited, both dressed in splendid bridesmaid dresses. They cast her murderous looks before turning away haughtily.
The ceremony passed in an almost surrealistic silence. Severus remained impassive, and he did not look at Lily again. She glanced furtively at his profile, so reserved and expressionless, and a slight feeling of shame crept into her heart. Unsettling Malfoy had amused her, but she felt no satisfaction whatsoever from humiliating Severus; quite the contrary. She lowered her eyes, oblivious to Voldemort’s solemn voice reciting pompous phrases.
Mechanically, she repeated the formulas she was supposed to say, and with the same aloofness, Snape slid a little gold ring onto her left hand. When he received his own, the Dark Lord whirled his wand over their heads, making a shower of sparks fall upon their conjoined hands. Severus pulled Lily to him to place a quick chaste kiss on her lips, and to general applause, the green and silver balloons by the altar rose to the ceiling and burst into miniature dragons of shadow spewing out small flames. It was over.
Once the magical contract was signed, Voldemort slipped his wand into the pocket of his robe. She caught a glimpse of it and recognized, with a painful jolt, Dumbledore’s Elder Wand. He sneered at her before Disapparating with an icy “Congratulations, Mrs. Snape.”
***
The top of the wedding cake was shaped as a unicorn. As soon as the knife touched the cream, the little creature reared up and rose in the air, trotting across the hall. A few meters further, it was swallowed by one of the shadow dragons gliding near the ceiling. Unperturbed, Severus cut a slice of cake and handed it to Lily on a dessert plate, still unwilling to look at her. It tasted like ashes in her mouth.
He sat beside her and raised a glass to his lips, sipping slowly and silently. With his somber and melancholic face, he looked very much like his mother. Lily felt another twinge of guilt. He did not need all this; it was against all his interests. She was the only person to benefit from this marriage. He had done it for her. And she had acted like a brainless child.
Timidly, she lifted her hand to touch his, but at this very moment, he stood up. He moved towards the crowd of guests and whispered a few words to Malfoy, who shrugged reluctantly. Then he left the hall. She stayed where she was, alone and dejected.
The light was gradually dimmed to induce a discotheque atmosphere. A dance floor had been formed where the chairs had been set up, and it was filling with couples. Lily noticed cursorily Alecto writhing rather than dancing in front of a pale man with straw-colored hair and a freckled face, surely the young Barty Crouch. Next to them, Rabastan Lestrange was flailing in the company of Rodolphus and Yaxley. At their encouragement, he unbuttoned the jacket and the shirt of his suit and threw them away. Laughing frantically, he let them conjure an enormous snake on his torso. She averted her face in disgust.
Several tables had been arranged along the walls to allow the guests to feast on the delicacies prepared by the house-elves. Lily saw her baby sleeping in the arms of Bellatrix, who was lounging on a chair in a corner; it alarmed her, but she knew she could do nothing. Narcissa was sitting alongside with a very blond little boy on her knees. She was speaking to him softly and seemed to be introducing the little Severus to him. As much as Lily could see from her seat, the older boy was looking at the baby with a genuine curiosity, and he even waved at him shyly. Two elves approached them in a while to take the children away. Bellatrix and Narcissa joined the dancers. They both had charmed their dresses to smoky black, probably to mock her defiant gesture.
Meanwhile, Malfoy was drinking with Rookwood, Dolohov and Mulciber at one of the tables. They were laughing unrestrainedly, and from their animated expressions, it was obvious that they were talking about their Gryffindor slaves.
“I’ve been trying to analyze the way they think,” Rookwood threw in loudly. “Do you know how to summarize the difference between us and them in a few words? If someone is bothering them, they cast the Soundproof Charm around themselves, while we cast the Silencing Charm upon the disturber. And a permanent one, in most cases!”
“Yeah, but why would anyone use the Soundproof Charm in such a situation?” Mulciber asked, peering over his glass.
“I haven’t figured that out yet,” the other confessed.
They burst out laughing again.
Lily scrutinized the dark corners of the hall longingly, but Snape was still nowhere in view. She stared down at the dark lace of her skirts to avoid watching the dancing couples. Most of them had partially undressed, and ties and jackets were lying all around. A whip cracking resounded somewhere in the crowd. It was like an endless dark, numbing dream.
At last, she felt a hand on her shoulder. Severus gave her his arm without a word. They made their way from the hall, stopping only to receive the congratulations of the four chattering men, who bid them a good night with meaningful smiles.
This night, they were going to sleep in special chambers, remote from the guest quarters. The spacious bedroom, decorated with stone engravings, was dominated by a huge fireplace; the three candlesticks set on the table were lit as well. The four-poster bed was larger than any Lily had ever seen and was covered with flower petals. Through the half-open door, a small dining room could be glimpsed. She sat on a chair while Severus was locking the wood entry door. She wondered if he would hurt her for having defied him. Not that she cared.
Slowly, he walked to the table and propped himself against the edge, his eyes locked on hers.
“I want to show you something,” he murmured after a deep silence.
He dug his hand into the folds of his ceremonial robe and pulled his wand out. She noticed how tightly – convulsively – his fingers were clenched around the hilt. He whispered an incantation. Instantaneously, a beautiful silver doe swooped from the tip of the wand. It made a few graceful jumps in the air, then, quick as a flash, sprang out the high window.
Lily contemplated the place where the airy animal had disappeared, mesmerized. It was hardly believable. No Death Eater had ever managed to cast the Patronus Charm before. Only a strong and pure feeling of love and a truly happy memory could enable a wizard to do so. How could Severus nourish such emotions with all the horrors he had committed? When could he have learned this charm? How could his feelings for her be so genuine and powerful? She raised her eyes to him, and he gazed back.
“I’ve never loved anyone but you,” he said. “All I’ve done, I’ve done for you – I don’t regret it, and I wouldn’t hesitate a second to go through it again. I won’t rest until I possess you body and soul. I can’t live without you. Do you believe me now?”
She did. Tenderness and remorse flooded her chest. She could not live without his love either.
“I’m sorry,” she breathed, bowing her head.
Before she knew it, he was on his knees in front of her, kissing her hands passionately.
“It’s nothing, my love. It’s nothing at all.”
He took her in his arms and carried her to the bed, laying her gently on the sheets. For a moment, he absented himself from the room to prepare them a drink. Lily looked at the window and saw with a mild surprise that the storm had still not stopped. But it did not concern her; she was in the warm chambers with Severus.
After they drank, he undressed her, removing the black pieces of her outfit one by one – unwrapping her like a gift, as he commented jokingly. When all her clothes and pearl jewels were on the floor, he held the tip of his wand at her magical necklace and performed a set of complicated spells. The chain fell off. Lily touched the base of her throat incredulously. All this was almost too good to be true. A wave of magic flowed through her body, concentrating, it seemed, in her left hand. But her questions died on her lips when she felt his soft kisses on her neck. They made love.
An hour later, she lay snuggled against him, trying to resist the tiredness that threatened to overcome her. She thought distantly that perhaps her impulse to have her dress turned black did not symbolize anything sinister. Maybe she had sensed the change coming. Instead of burying her spirit and hope, she had buried her despair, thus ending the dark period of her life. She had to hope so. She had…
He walked to the table and propped himself against the edge, his eyes locked on hers.
“I want to show you something.”
His fingers clenched tightly around the hilt of his wand, and he whispered the incantation. This time, however, she could hear it distinctly.
“Prior Incantato.”
A silver doe swept through the room, nimble and elegant, before springing into the night air. He swiftly concealed the wand in his pocket while Lily was staring at the window.
“… All I’ve done, I’ve done for you – I don’t regret it, and I wouldn’t hesitate a second to go through it again. I won’t rest until I possess you body and soul.” A horribly familiar glint in his black eyes. “Do you believe me now?”
He took her in his arms and carried her to the bed, laying her gently on the sheets. Then he passed to the dining room, where he stood by the fireplace. He drew the wand he had used to produce the pseudo-Patronus. Its willow hilt had the form of a spiral and was decorated on the top with a small carved flower. It was her wand. The Patronus had been hers as well. She realized this spell was the last one she had used before her capture. She had cast it on that fatal evening to entertain the little Harry.
With a dry crack, Severus broke her wand in two and threw the pieces into the hearth. The fire shot high and emitted a low, ghostly whimper. The wizard then pulled out his own wand to prepare the drinks and left with the full tray, not giving a glance back. The quiet wail continued, as did the storm behind the window.
“Shhh! It’s just a dream, Lily. I’m here. Everything is all right.”
Her body was trembling like a leaf, and beads of tears were streaking her cheeks, falling into her hair. She focused her blurred eyes to see Severus’ solicitous face bent over her. It had only been a dream. Her breath shallow with fright, she sank into the mattress. He moved his hand to wipe her tears and brush a wet lock from her face.
“What did you dream of?”
She wanted to answer, but was suddenly unable to recall what she had seen. The nightmare had evaporated, leaving no clear trace or memory. All she remembered was the anxiety and the pain. Also the fact that the dream had been exceptionally vivid. Like a vision induced through Legilimency.
“Well, it doesn’t matter. Everything is fine now. Don’t worry, I’m here with you.”
He nuzzled her ear, kissing the sensitive lobe. His hands caressed her as he left a trail of feather-light kisses down her neck, on her breasts. Lily squirmed a little, but did not pull away. His touch seemed to soothe her confused, agitated mind. Before allowing herself to close her eyes and try to relax, however, she noticed a shadow of a smirk cross his face. She looked at him intently. Indeed, the corners of his mouth were slightly raised.
“Why are you smiling?”
Severus lifted his head, his eyes warm and sparkling.
“I was watching you while you were asleep. You are so innocent. So incredibly beautiful.”
He fondled her for long minutes. When he felt her loosen up, he lowered his head to hers, kissing her lightly and tenderly. Pleasure infused her senses, and she could not help returning his kiss.
“My flower,” he whispered against her skin. “My treasure. My darling wife. Sleep. I’m here to protect you.”
Carefully, he wrapped a blanket around her and pulled her closer to his chest. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
The words had come spontaneously, and she was no longer ashamed of them. They were pure and liberating. She was rewarded by a rain of ardent kisses.
The peaceful sleep swept her last worries away.
Evil laughter resounded through the night, spreading to every corner of the manor. Somewhere in the dungeon, a green-eyed house-elf expired in anguish.
THE END
********************
Note: Many readers suppose this fic is about Snape’s redemption. In fact, the title is ironic: it is Lily’s redemption from Snape’s point of view. By her suffering, she repays her “debt” to him.
I used the trio Severus-Lucius-Augustus as a tribute to cmwinters, the author of my favorite fic, His Heart’s Desire. I wish I could write as beautifully as she does!
Thank you for reading this story!
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