Memories of the past consumed the deepest shadows of Severus' mind; swirls of colors, and mists of what once had been, transforming into light that devoured his darkness.
....... . . . . . . . .
Visions of Cassiopeia came storming through that darkness, surging forward fiercely and cutting through the pitch black like sunlight through the shadows.
Her whole body was drenched to the core, she was covered in dirt, and her lips were trembling. Long ebony hair was stuck to her face, her entire self covered in mud and filth-- beads of rain trickling down her cheek. The steady mist of water droplets suspended in the atmosphere began to spill from the night sky at a more rapid pace, the misty air turning bitter against her pale skin. An umbral gloom eclipsed the Forest in which she stood, a thick murkiness engulfing the earth below as the weather prevailed without preparation. The heavens roared with thunderous claps, lightening piercing the sky above and briefly shedding light upon the womans form.
She was weak. Power draining out of her in waves. The smell of her pale skin was faintly perfumed with lavender- a coppery aroma of wounds just below it. Snape's memory-self hesitated for moment, glaring at the uninvited presence of Cassiopeia Black.
So realistic was his memories, that his subconscious tasted the senses.
She attempted to shelter her wand wrist. He pushed her hand away and followed marred marks upon her flesh that stretched from the small of her palm all the way up to her neck. A few strands at a time, he peeled away her dripping wet hair; her head descending back to bare the havoc she had endured by the hands of the punishing Dark Lord.
His eyes darted to her fading emeralds with shock.
....... . . . . . . .
She was in his arms - a ragdoll of a witch - her magical signature fading with each step Snape's memory-self took.
....... . . . . . . .
Inside the warm confines of his private quarters within the castle, he could see with clarity just how exhausted Cassiopeia truly was. The dark circles underneath her eyes, the splotches of discoloration and ecchymosis along her skin-- the pallid paleness of her face all but giving away the state of her. Her sodden hair was sticking about her head and her dress clung to her womanly shape and curves.
Severus couldn't help but gaze at her breasts that clearly shown beneath the saturated fabric. She truly was a sight to behold, even in her plight. He allowed himself a gander before meteorically setting to work.
He recalled the urgency. The vital need to put his potion mastering skills to a test.
In the moment, it had been nothing but that; a test. A challenge of his ingenuity and genius. Well.... of course there had been the fact, that- should Lucius had survived the Dark Lord's wrath, he would surely be infuriated if harm had befallen his newly acquainted love.
Oh, yes.... he had known. He had known early on of the affair between Cassiopeia Black and one Lucius Malfoy. He knew a many of things that others did not. Always had, always would. Yet, he had found it pointless to dwell on such things.
Yes, he was a man-- a man with needs. But he hadn't indulged himself in such necessitates in a dogs years. After the loss of Lily, he'd become a monk of sorts. However, the urges were still there. Afterall, the caveman dwells within us all, and he had made home within the dungeons. As it was in those days, he merely kept himself busy with his double life and Potion making, to take heed of those rising needs.
Though, he had to admit in point.... restraint had become much more difficult after the failed attempt to gain the prophecy. Especially when there was a fresh, beautiful, mouthwatering piece of fruit; ripe for the picking, right there beneath his slanted nose.
In his usual stoic manner, Snape's memory-self slunk towards the woman in mind. She was out cold. He knelt by the chair and leaned in closely to her face. He took a noticeable sniff. She smelled of dirt and copper, but beneath was a powering scent of lavender and jasmine. The fragrance hit his guts like a waterfall. He stood and ran backwards towards his work space, clutched the edge of the table and slowed his breathing; shaking his head, as if to shake off the effects of smelling........ woman.
The memory transposed....... . . . . . . .
An echo in his own withering away ear, he heard himself say,"Cassiopeia, I'm going to enter your mind one last time to assure there is nothing else I have missed."
At her reluctant nod, he spoke the Legilimency incantation and entered her mind.
He watched as Voldemort disapparated, but not before casting the flashing green light of a rebounding curse. No intended target was struck. Cleary a warning, should the lot fail him again. It was apparent that Severus had successfully seen everything that needed to be seen the first time he entered her mind. Having already diagnosed and treated Cassi for what curses ailed her- and nothing else remaining, his craftsmanship was at a complete. Snape's memory-self was about to pull out of the minx's mind, when he saw something else. Something enticing to his needy negelects. An image inside an image that provoked him to stay. To not look away.
From within his memory-- looking inside of hers; was Lucius.
But he was not alone. The starlight blonde was beneath a naked and writhing Cassiopeia; both of them moaning out in pleasure while they fucked in the floor of Lucius' office. The keen wails matured in a flourishing sound of bliss, until Severus visually witnessed the saucy seductress explode in an elaborate escalation of rapture. Further still, she advanced; the sound of savage sex a second language in Snape's mind. Growling and groaning in a blossoming passion, Lucius' face showed the strength and force of his volcanic release inside of the dark haired coquette. Cassiopeia leaned down, kissing the man's feverish lips; licking the side of his jaw, and nibbling at slight stubble. When she leaned up to show her approval of the shared lust-- Lucius' form distorted and transformed into..... Severus himself.
....... . . . . . . .
Severus Snape knew a many of things that others did not. Always had, always would.
Yet, had he known then, what he knew now......
'Realization in your dying moments.'
Severus had been too preoccupied with his own unleashed ardor on that eve oh so long ago. Nearly 9 months to be exact. He'd dropped his guard that night Cassiopeia came to him seeking his aid; his zeal all but overlooking the fact that he'd invaded and witnessed a morphing memory. Not a current wanting thought. It would prove to be one of his bigger mistakes.
The bit of human that resides within us all is prone to making mistakes. Muggle and Wizard alike-- from time to time we are all bound to failure. Over and over again; like a record on repeat, we all fall down. We must fall before we can fly. We must stand before we soar. There are lessons to be learned from every blunder. Fate works with error. Ones destiny can not be achieved without first tasting the waters of defeat. We sip at the chalice of fallacy a little bit at a time; our thirst ever quenching, our ego gluttonous for another drink. All the while we question, we seek, we struggle. We search, wanting above all else to find. In our stubborn strength we are so desperate for answers that falsity constantly presents solution to us as yet another lie in life. Another sip from the chalice of fallacy. We feed our craving. It is an antidote to what scares us all. And what scares us above all else is fear itself. Therefore, we must succumb to the addiction. We must fall in order to fly. The challenge we truly face is letting go of the familiar and keeping our head above the water. We must stand. Let go of the illusion that our story has already been written with an ending of someone else's choosing. We are the creators of our own destiny. We have the power to take back what is rightfully ours. We are our own author; our own master creator. We write our own story. A story with a happy ending. We must guzzle the waters of defeat. Drink it all down until we are drunk. A baby newly born, suckling the gift of life-- fill yourself with all the contents of fallacy, look it in the eye, and smile as you swallow. The cup is empty. There is nothing to fear. Not even fear itself. Because you faced your demons. You saluted them and shared your deepest secrets. We've been broken and crushed, for fear hates us. But hate can deliver love, and once we have pushed against that hate, we have let it go. We're thirsty no more, and now we can fly. Soar free. For the chains of regret and guilt have been broken and we have been born again. A purpose.... a purpose realized from our own failure that carries us up high. See yourself from the clouds above and create your world-- your way of living. Write your story with a happy ending.
The root of this tree was one of Snape's oversights; a faux pas unrealized to the defeated. Truth was born from this final defeat.
Cassiopeia had lain with Lucius mere days before she came seeking his aid. Yet, Snape never questioned it. He never questioned the twins parentage. Instead, he sipped from the chalice of fallacy and made truth from his own desperate desires.
The realization was daunting in his dying moment.
A gasp of despair escaped him; his body hugging the concrete. Rodolphus bore a grotesque grin, the devils cackle echoing through the cellar as he watched Snape's frame being crushed beneath him.
The door burst open, a weightless and limp Pius flailing through the underground cell like air escaping from a balloon.
Standing in the archway was the cause of Pius' deflate. Cassiopeia in the flesh; Lucius and Avery only a few paces behind her. Hell itself froze over in all of the Witches fury, her body physically shaking to contain the mounted anger from the sight of Severus' mangled body. Consciously, she knew Rodolphus was not in control- Bellatrix was in the driver's seat to this hit and run- but her subconscious self had eyes that only saw red. She tastes the metallic crimson and washed the walls with it's color.
It happened all at once: flashes of deceit, betrayal, and bloodshed. Images of everyone's suffering by others hands.... and her own. Her jet black hair billowed and rippled as if captured by the wind of a fierce storm. The storm raging within. Her vengeful green orbs widened, the whites of her eyes turning black as she aimed her vicious inhuman glare at Rodolphus. The face of an angel, the eyes of a demon; the wizard cowered in the witch's mighty scowl. Every inch of her body was rigid with murderous intent and a hunger for vengeance.
A single word ran through her mind. An incantation. A violent curse.
Sectumsempra.
She didn't need to say it allowed. Rodolphus was on the ground soaking in a crimson pool before he knew what hit him. Deep lacerations covered his lifeless form, his wheezing whimpers a near dull tone compared to Cassiopeia's own breathing. The two men behind her just stood taciturn; Avery baring a slack jaw and bulging amber eyes, Lucius looking rather impressed with his trademark smirk.
It was silent for the longest, until there was a stirring of sorts in floor. All attention reverted to the fallen bat. Cassiopeia was on her knees beside him in the next instant.
Severus felt the weight of Rodolphus being lifted off of him; the spell that had been blinding his senses vanishing in the same instant. Though, he still couldn't see. He hadn't the energy to lift his lids. Physically he could feel nothing but pain. And yet, he felt good on the inside. He could hear a beautiful voice filling his entire being and he detected someone next to him. A song of sorts; a melodic tune coursed through his body. Just as suddenly he felt something wet on his dry lips and he was compelled to open his eyes.
What he saw didn't make sense at first, and he had to wonder if he was dead.
The most magnificent creature he had ever laid his eyes on.
Glowing viridescent greens set in a delicate face; pert nose, between high cheekbones-- shadowed hair laid upon porcelain skin and swirling under a perky breast.
Gorgeous as ever, even when covered in soot and grot. She seemed to be blazing with the light of fire. Her eyes were the same amazing emerald orbs he remembered, but with a vehement power.
"Lily...are you here for me?" He rasped.
Cassi felt the sting, but did not correct him. Instead she shushed him with her mouth, kissing him gently. Her hand caressed his cheek, and through fresh tears she felt a piece of Severus flee away from her. Before she could dig any deeper, a shadow in the corner moved. It took form and grew; Voldemort stepping out of the darkness.