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  • Published: 3 Jun 2012
  • Updated: 26 Jun 2012
  • Status: Complete
NOBODY can write like Joanne Kathleen Rowling, but nevertheless, we all try, don't we? Here's my first attempt at fan fiction - the story of Snape and Lily, a love story that never was...


2. 31st October, 1981

Severus Snape was striding briskly across the dark streets that dreadful night while everyone else was merrily celebrating the downfall of the darkest wizard of all times - clinking glasses, toasting a better future, toasting the Boy Who Lived, not sparing a thought for the one innocent soul that died that very night. Two, in reality, but he cared only for the one. The only one he cared for. 

Lily Evans.

Potter would have been the right thing to call her, but he would never do that. Potter, that brat...that arrogant toerag. Not him. No, Severus didn't care about him losing his life. He only cared about Lily. His Lily. Lily who would always be Lily Evans for him. The news had reached him immediately. Lily and her husband, killed by Lord Voldemort...of course, the news he had heard had been bright. People excitedly spreading the word about the Dark Lord's destruction. But Severus had only registered one thing - Lily, his Lily, had been murdered. 

No, he did not believe it. No way. He would not believe what anyone else told him. He would see for himself, prove them wrong...for somehow, a part him insisted she was still not dead. The Avada Kedavra curse was irreversible, of course he knew that, but if there was even a single chance it had missed...even a single chance she had been saved...even the slightest glimmer of hope, it meant everything to Severus.

The Boy lives, he thought desperately as he made his way up Godric's Hollow. Then why can't Lily? If the Boy survives, then why shouldn't Lily? His Lord had promised him after all...he had promised not to hurt Lily. He had promised he would only kill the boy and the father if he had to, but not her. Severus had begged the Dark Lord to spare Lily's life...so wasn't there a chance he would have kept the promise?    

Then he saw it. The house. It's first floor. Collapsed. Destroyed. So utterly demolished that it sickened him. Pained his heart. He knew that, even if Lily had survived the curse by some miracle, the collapse of the roof and that side of the house would have been enough to crush the life out of her. His heart twisted painfully. No. No, he wasn't giving up hope. He made his way through the rubble, forcing the bricks and the debris away, pushing it all aside desperately. He knew he could have done it by magic, but his mind had stopped working. It was blank. He could not remember a single spell, a single charm. Every sense of practicality had fled his mind, leaving behind nothing but mad hope. Desperation. So he just worked and worked like a Muggle labourer, perspiring hotly but he didn't care. 

And then finally, he saw it. He saw her. Only a single spot stood unharmed and unaffected by the destruction around it. That one spot where he saw her dead body, lying on the floor, eyes wide open in fear and plea, frozen right there. Hit by the Killing Curse. There was no denying it now. She was gone. For good. The Dark Lord had killed her. He vaguely saw a cot and a baby in it, but barely registered it. He had eyes only for her. His love. Dead.

He felt something foreign on his face. Tears. Hot, spilling tears. uncontrollable tears. Tears of agony. Misery. And soon he was clutching Lily's body in his arms tightly, sobbing uncontrollably, refusing to let go. He wanted to die. All these years, he had lived in the hope that one day, one day, his Lily would forgive him. She would realise how he loved her. But he had never had the chance to ask for forgiveness. He had never even had the chance to say goodbye. He sobbed and sobbed, like never before. Every fiber of him was screaming out in pain, wanting only to die. But soon, too soon, he heard a strange rumble outside and the sound of loud wails. Someone was here. He glanced. Hagrid on a motorbike. Probably here to take the boy. If the oaf saw him, he would misunderstand him. He might think a Death Eater was here to kill the boy. He would have to go now. But he didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay with Lily's body for evermore, not moving, not caring about anything else.

He heard the sound of the giant Hagrid shuffling into the spot where Severus was, bawling and screeching incomprehensible words. Reluctantly, very reluctantly, he let Lily go and glanced at the boy. He was smiling innocently, not understanding what was happening. Not understanding what the future held for him. Not realising that at this moment, all the people in the wizarding community were raising their glasses to him.

In a second, Severus had Disapparated from Godric's Hollow back to his home at Spinner's End, still sobbing. Everything was over. Everything. He wished he had never gone to the Dark side. The Dark Lord was responsible for Lily's death, how could he have joined him? Nothing would have changed then. Lily Evans would have probably married him, Severus, instead...how he wished. But it was all over now. 

He decided then that Lily had to be avenged. Severus would do that. No matter what he would have to do, no matter what lengths he would have to go to...he would avenge Lily Evans. And that was a vow.

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