Turning Time (A Harry Potter Fanfic)

Water Lily, pt. 3

They quickly reached the forested area by the town. Sun filtered in through the trees, illuminating the forest floor in patches of gold. Harry was amazed at the beauty that thrived in such an ugly place. The polluted air dissipated, transitioning from the bad part of town to the good side, of which Harry could just make out past the trees. You could tell this was like a second home to Severus because, even at his quick pace, he could dodge every root and run over the uneven ground like it was perfectly flat.

Just as Harry ran out of breath, Snape appeared to have reached his destination. It didn’t appear significant to Harry—it was just a small space between the trees, just barely big enough for two people to lie out in. Nevertheless, it was clearly a special place to him. The place that the best times of his life would happen. Harry’s chest constricted as he watched Snape pick up a few pine cones and twigs and carry them out of the space, obviously preparing for Lily’s arrival. 

Then Harry’s mother came. No one had seemed to accurately describe her beauty, and none of the pictures he had could capture how she looked now. Her hair was soft in the sunlight, radiating like warm fire. 

And her eyes. As tired of a topic it was, they were a perfect copy of Harry’s.

It was no wonder the way Snape looked at her, his face flushed, shyly smiling. Harry wished that he could’ve known either of the small smiles they exchanged. His long-lived desire for a mother seemed to spike in intensity. Harry couldn’t decide if his heart was breaking, or if it was repairing itself. He decided it had broken—these two kids were destined to die miserable, pointless deaths. 

It wasn’t a good idea to come to here, Harry realized. 

Harry thought of the expression, “Some things are just meant to be.” He now completely disagreed. Voldemort was not meant to be. He surely paved the way for new villains. He led to the death of thousands. He killed people, directly and indirectly—people who loved, people who were loved, people who never got the chance to love. Voldemort was going to die. He didn’t deserve to live. Why let one person live at the cost of others? 

Harry was so absorbed in his anger he it took him a while to notice Severus and Lily were lying in the grass side by side. Lily was laughing, and Snape was watching her, smiling, with his head propped up by one hand. 

“Sev, that is not how it happened, at all! It was the dog, I swear!” She had a sweet voice that rolled off her tongue smoothly and deliberately, like honey. Lily rolled over closer to Snape, still facing the sky. Snape was frozen, at first, by the proximity between them. Eventually he relaxed and let his head drop to her level. For a while, they said nothing, just lying next to each other, enjoying the light breeze. Lily studied the sky while Snape studied her eyes. Harry watched them, a bit uncomfortable but curious. 

Eventually, Lily turned toward Snape so their faces were mere inches apart. 

“What if…” began Lily.

“What if…” Snape repeated quietly, then cleared his throat and repeated more strongly, “What if—what if what?” His voice was similar to how it was as an adult; soft and whispery. Harry moved a bit closer to hear, taking care not to step on any twigs.

Lily’s eyes turned downcast, as if regretting saying anything, and she turned away from him. “N-no!” Snape burst out, and she looked at him in surprise. “What is it?” he continued, more gently. Lily sighed.

“What if I’m not good at magic? Because I’m—I’m a…” She flipped onto her side, facing him again.

His face lit up in horror as he realized what she was about to say. “Don’t say it,” he begged quietly, so inaudibly that only Lily could hear it.