Love Persevering

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You stand there, looking at the black lake as you clasp your hands behind your back. Looking at the scene, you count the ripples the waves make as the wind blows upon the water.

Scotland wasn't exactly knows for it's sunshine, that was obvious. The sky was dreary, foreshadowing the events that would later happen the next day. It wasn't even so much of a warning or omen- the sky was sad as well.

The wispy clouds are thin as they float through the sky- thick enough to hide the ever-needed sun, but likely too thin to rain. It was taunting you. Mocking you. Like it could rain, but it won't. Or maybe it would? You wouldn't know until it happens...

You sigh as you look through the trees in the forest. Even in uncertain and dangerous times as this, not even that could keep you away from the terrible beauty of the Black Lake.

Leaves crunching and grass quietly moving makes you flinch. Keeping a hand on your right thigh where your wand rests in your pocket, you quickly turn your head to the left.

You sigh and your tense shoulders drop, your paranoia dissipating when you see the source of the sound. Walking towards you, is Professor (now Headmaster) Snape. His hands relax at his sides, though not loosely- likely prepared for any danger that could possibly jump out at any moment. His billowing black cloak drags across the forest floor as his black hair gently caresses his face in the wind. The professor walks at a normal speed, not like his usual rushed pace.

You look away from the professor with a quiet sigh as you direct your attention back to the lake. A single goose sits on the surface of the water, unaware of the dangers that lurk beneath the surface.

You don't say anything as the man approaches you, eventually standing at your side (yet also keeping an obvious distance between the two of you).

Another silent moment passes by, no words spoken. You were surprised that he hadn't said anything yet. Though to be fair, what would he say? He stopped nagging you long ago about the dangers of the lake when he finally got the memo that you weren't going anywhere. Even in all of the seven years that you've known him, he was never one for small chat- the only acception being the occasional little talks as the two of you made potions.

Either way, if you were in his shoes you'd appreciate this silent moment, not daring to interrupt the peace with talking.. This is a place where time seemingly stops- the universe around you hitting a pause button.

The man has the weight of the world on his shoulders. But he doesn't complain. Sure, he's gotten even stricter, but never expresses any personal concerns or woes whatsoever.

You weren't terribly devastated when he killed Dumbledore. Saddened and a bit shocked, yes, but not scared of the man. He wouldn't do that without a proper reason. No matter what anybody said, you refused to believe their comments- even if it made you sound naive.

There was something that Professor Snape wasn't telling you. Of course, that man has always had something to hide- he was a closed book. No, a chest. A heavy chest with locks and bolts that came with a key- the key having been thrown down a bottomless well. The secrets of the chest are impenetrable. No matter how hard you kick the chest or shake it back and forth, it's contents will forever remain unknown.

Something was going to happen very soon and it wouldn't be good. You didn't need to see to know it- the grief so obvious it burned your nostrils... stained your clothes.. You didn't need to hear to know it- the physicality told you everything you needed to know. Like a silent film.

The professor looks at the lake, his dark eyes surveying the entire premises- as though he hadn't spent over two decades worth of his life here.

Thoughts race through your head, an internal battle ravaging your mind. It had the happiest thoughts, ones of a bright future. But some were dark and pessimistic. Not like it scared you. Not anymore... That was probably the "scariest" part. You were numb to it all. The pending wizarding war wasn't something that you were dreading. If anything, you were impatient and wanted to get it over with.

"Professor..." You begin in a hushed tone, keeping your eyes fixated on the lake.

The man slowly turns his body towards you, his tired eyes looking at you over his hooked nose.

"Are you afraid to die?" You quietly ask, not even phased by the morbid question you had just asked your teacher.

In any other time, this question would have been deemed inappropriate and even pointless. But now, it was a valid thought that has likely crossed everyone's minds at some point in the past two years.

He slowly exhales through his nose, his expression unwavering. He looks at the black lake, not meeting your numb gaze.

"No." He simply states in his low, monotone voice.

He wasn't lying, that was for sure. But it didn't seem like he was looking forward to it either. He likely just wanted this to be over- it was painfully obvious that the poor man is tired. The bags under his eyes stand as evidence.

"Would you be sad if I was gone?" You then curiously ask, tilting your head at him.

You wouldn't be mad if he said no. But some part of you hoped that these years of potion making and enjoying each other's silent company hadn't gone to waste.

"Yes. I would." He finally replies after an elongated pause.

"I would miss you if you were gone, Professor." You quietly state, now looking at him.

You felt the strong urge to say it. It wasn't just out of pity, it was the truth. You would miss him. Maybe even weep for him. Weep for the people who didn't truly know him.

The need to say that you would miss someone if they are gone holds a lot of meaning. It isn't just "Well, that'd be unfortunate and a bit sad if you died..."

It's;

"I would miss you if you were gone. Six feet under, or across the globe. I care about you and I couldn't possibly imagine a life without you in it."

Professor Snape looks at you with gentle eyes, though something lurking behind them. Not ominous, just something sad or disappointing.

"Likewise, Y/n." He quietly says.

Your eye twitches at him calling you your first name. In all seven years of your school life, your first name had never left his mouth.

Another slow and lengthy pause passes by.

"Professor, how do you.. process.. loss?.. How does one keep on living with such a hole in their heart?" You quietly ask, a stinging feeling building up in your nose and eyes as the faintest collection of tears well up.

He doesn't say anything, just slowly lowers his head downwards so his hair falls against his face, hiding his expression.

You watch as his shoulders slightly drop, before tensing up again. He straightens his back and clasps his hands together in front of him with no reply.

Slowly, Professor Snape turns to you and you take the time to fully analyze his features. Almost like you were trying to savor this moment forever. As if it were the last time you ever would.

"..What is grief, if not love persevering?.." He quietly states in his deep voice.

One more time, your mentor and professor looks at you intently for a good moment, before turning around. You watch as the man walks away, his dark figure growing smaller and smaller.

Today is the first of May, nineteen ninety-seven.

And this would be the last time you see your professor alive.

Severus Snape OneshotsWhere stories live. Discover now