Complications // Severus Snape

• Ch 27 Contentment •

"Severus," I said, looking not at him, but out at the night sky. He waited for me to continue, so I did, "When did you know you wanted to teach at Hogwarts?"

After thinking for a moment, Severus replied, "I never did. I only applied for the position originally so I could spy on Dumbledore. Then I kept it because Dumbledore instructed me to."

"What did you want to do?"

His response this time took longer for him to provide. "When Lily and I were younger, we fancied ourselves Potioneers. I later aspired to be a Death Eater, thinking that to be an occupation in itself. Unfortunately, I chose the worse occupation of the two..."

"You still could be a Potioneer," I said. "You invented that pumpkin-head potion."

"An amazing contribution to the Wizarding world," Severus said bitterly. "I've long ago let go of that dream."

"But why?" I said, "You could—find the cure to lycanthropy, or create an anti-aging potion, or—"

"If you have such an interest in the subject, why don't you pursue a career in Potioneering?"

"I could," I said, having never really considered it before. "I might. But still, you shouldn't give up on your dream just yet."

Severus rolled his eyes. "I offered a snowball fight, and instead received an inspirational speech. I must say, I think I would have preferred the snowball fight."

I gave him a withering look, which had no effect on him.

"The stars seem to be shining especially brightly tonight, even through the clouds and snow." Severus said.

I turned my head sideways to look at him. He was sprawled out in the snow, serenely observing the sky and the Lake. "Who are you and what have you done with Severus Snape?"

He turned his head to give me an innocent look. "What?"

"You're—well—almost...happy?"

"Am I not allowed such a basic human right as happiness every once in a blue moon?"

"No, of course you are—it's just—odd." I said, and quickly added, "Refreshing, don't get me wrong, it's only—you present yourself to others with such an air of coldness and bitterness, that one soon forms the impression that you've never experienced happiness. I've known you for half a year, and I've rarely seen you look so at peace."

"It's rather a relief, to have my burden lessened, even if by a minuscule amount." he said. "In the cemetery, you instilled in me the hope that, perhaps, Lily does forgive me. Or, she's giving me a second chance. And this time, I won't let her down."

I smiled. "And in that moment, the man so accustomed to carrying the weight of two worlds, had it reduced to only one."

"I'd say it's closer to one and a half."

"I suppose I'll have to work on lessening more, then."

There was a certain twinkling in his eyes that night which I had never before seen. I had seen him playful, I had seen him excited, I had even seen him relaxed—but never before had I seen him so content.