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. 

“…Mudblood,” she finished, choking it out, as if the word was too huge for her to manage. Then she started crying. For the first time, he saw his mother cry. How ironic, though. Snape didn’t want her to call herself Mudblood when he himself would in a few years and screw everything over. Harry was surprised he had taught her the word, but then again, he had no proof showing directly that he had never said anything. 

“You won’t—It doesn’t mean…” Snape protested weakly. It was clear he was struggling between his opinion of them and his blossoming love for this girl. So instead of saying anything else, he offered his arms. Lily sat up and entered them.

Harry made the mistake of seeing Severus’ eyes, which were determined, sad, and desperate. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to hold Lily in his arms and stay that way until day he died. Because that’s what Harry realized he knew, deep down. Snape would not end up with her, and these childhood moments would not last. 

“Thank you, Sev,” Lily said, hiccuping, and they broke apart. She looked startled to see that tears were silently running down his face. Snape angrily brushed them away and stood up. To the ground, he said softly, “You will be an amazing witch,” Lily stood up, too, and stared at him until he met her eyes. “I know you hate Mudbloods.” He flinched at both her use of the word and the accusation. 

“That’s not—” Snape began, but Lily shook her head and said, “Don’t lie. Please. Can you just tell me why?” Snape, who seemed to have dealt with too many emotions within the brief time Harry had seen him, thought hard. Although Snape could not find the answer to her question, Harry found it obvious. His father was a Muggle, who was unfeeling and made Snape’s life miserable. He was probably the deep-rooted source of Snape’s prejudice. 

Snape knew he had to answer or Lily would be mad at him. “Well?” Her tears were now completely gone as she pressed him for an answer.

“Trust me. I don’t hate Mud—Muggle-borns.”

“Yes you do. You’re ashamed to be my friend.” 

“That’s not true! I…” He drifted off, uncomfortably trying to explain himself. 

“Prove that you don’t hate—” 

“Muggle-borns,” he half corrected, half finished for her. 

His opinion was faltering for her sake, Harry could tell. But saying things, doing things for her sake wouldn’t be enough until it was far too late. 

“Trust me, I don’t,” was all he said in response.

Lily considered this. “Fine. I trust you. I just want you to think of this. It’s not where or who the person came from, it’s the person. Right?” 

This could not be closer to how Snape felt about Lily and her being a Mudblood.

“Right.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but Lily was getting ready to leave, and he had missed his chance. “You’re leaving?” he asked, disappointed. 

Lily sighed. “Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Promise?” Snape stood up, too. Lily hesitated. 

“Pinkie promise?” Snape held out his pinkie. 

“Of course. I promise,” she smiled and they shook on it. Then she turned and ran toward home, only looking back once. 

Snape watched her go, expressionless. After she had disappeared into the trees, Snape let his face scrunch up in frustration. His fist tightened and he looked around for something to punch. He cocked his hand, preparing to strike the trunk closest to him, when he stopped. His lips pursed and he lowered his hand. 

Harry decided that the sooner he could befriend Snape’s, the better. He had at least a few weeks to befriend him. He guessed that in order for Snape to like him, he would have to take it slowly and carefully. 

Harry still didn’t quite know how to orchestrate his plan, so he decided to play it as he went along. As he tried to figure it out, Snape went past where Harry was standing, invisible, to the river. Harry was right by the wooden bridge that he had crossed before, Snape now just a few meters away. He watched as the boy seemed to spot something on the other side of the river. Snape tried to use magic to pull whatever it was toward him, motioning with his arms, but was unsuccessful. Finally, he scrunched up his face in determination and set off to get whatever he’d seen. 

Snape had only reached the center of the bridge when there was a loud “Snap!” and he fell through the bridge into the water below. Harry stood frozen in place as Snape struggled to swim. There was only a gentle current, but he was already heading downstream. His untrained magic was only keeping his face above the water, keeping him alive, for now. Snape flailed his arms about, but it was no use. 

Harry finally got to his senses and quickly decided what to do. 

He left everything but his wand by the riverside and jumped in, swimming easily with the gentle current to the drowning boy. He wrapped his arms around Snape’s middle and slowly pulled him to a small beach downstream. It was strange; Harry had never helped him directly, let alone held him. 

Snape stopped thrashing and lay limp as soon as he was safely on the shore. Harry rolled him onto his back, noticing how unusually still he was. Since Severus’s eyes were closed and unable to witness it, Harry coaxed the water out of him with his wand. He let him cough out the rest and regain normal breathing as he pocketed his wand. 

“Are you okay?” Harry asked as Snape sat up, still breathing raggedly. Snape jumped in surprise and looked wide-eyed at his rescuer. 

“Who—why—” he stuttered as Harry stood up. 

“My name is Jacob.” It felt weird, lying about something so fundamental about himself. Then, realizing that he probably needed to say something else, he added, “That bridge was bound to collapse any day.” 

Now that he thought about it, had he already altered the past by walking on it earlier? Maybe it had been that Severus was going to walk on it last, and a storm was going to deliver the last blow. Did that mean whatever he changed here could alter the future? 

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around,” Harry/Jacob said, and walked away from the stunned boy. After he had retreated back into the cover of the forest, he looked back to see what it was that Snape had seen. 

His heart lurched when he realized the love-struck boy had seen a water lily, which he now was pulling out of the river. He had unintentionally risked his life to pick a flower that shared the same name as the girl he had a crush on. Harry turned away, feeling extremely intrusive for watching this meaningful, personal moment. He got over it, though—he was only going to need his invisibility cloak a few more times. 

He came to the spot where he had jumped in, picked up his stuff, and headed into the sanctuary of the woods. Harry, as he walked, dug around in the pits of his bag for the Time-Turner. Eventually, his hands closed around the smooth, cold surface of the device. He pulled it out and, after tinkering with it a bit, jumped ahead to ten in the morning the next day. Instead of the sparse, white clouds from yesterday, it looked like there it going to storm any minute. Despite the weather, when Harry went to their meeting spot, Snape had showed up. Hadn’t Lily pinkie promised that she would come, too? The fear of being caught in the rain might have forced her to stay inside. Or maybe her mum wouldn’t let her leave the house for some other reason.

Harry could tell Snape was starting to wonder if she was coming, too, because he started looking around awkwardly. He shouldn’t have worried, though: it only took another minute before Lily showed up. She was well prepared for the weather, comfortably buttoned up in a rain jacket, a hood pulled over her head. Snape, however, had a baggy shirt and pants. 

“You came!” Snape couldn’t keep the relief and surprise from his voice. 

Lily grinned. “Of course I did. We pinkie promised.” She paused, and looked up at the sky. “I felt a raindrop. I would’ve brought an umbrella, if I’d known you’d need one.”

Snape shivered, unsuccessful in his attempts to hide his discomfort.

“Are you cold?” Lily asked. 

Severus shook his head, silent, but she had already taken her jacket off. 

“Here. We’ll share.” She wrapped it around the both of them, undoubtedly used to helping him.

Harry thought of his father. Was it right for to encourage the relationship between Lily and Snape? He knew there wasn’t really another way to improve Snape’ life, if that’s what he decided to do. If the two ended up together, would Harry still exist, or just look different? Obviously his father could find someone else (as far as Harry knew, James was popular, charismatic, brave) and there were many places he would be able to find love. Snape was a different story. But Harry knew plenty of people die without ever being loved. Why should Severus be helped over others? Without Harry, would the Dark Lord’s reign be stronger, last longer? Still, he could at least make their relationship less rocky, perhaps try and lead Snape down the right path. 

Rain started to fall steadily now, so the two retreated under a large tree, where only a few drops got through. Harry went behind a tree across from them, using a simple spell to keep dry. They stood side-by-side against the trunk, watching the rain crescendo into a downpour. 

“Sev!” Lily whispered suddenly. 

“What? What is it?” Snape looked around wildly. 

“Shh, it’s a doe…”

He followed her pointed finger and saw it, too—a female deer that looked surreal through the rain, still, ears perked up. After gazing at it for a minute, Snape turned to Lily. “I think it—it’s kinda like you,” he said quietly, face flushing.

Lily pulled her gaze away from the creature.

“What do you mean?” 

“Because…” Snape, embarrassed, looked away from her quizzical green eyes. Harry saw her study him, realize what he meant, and give a small smile.

“You are too, you know.” 

Snape was startled and he turned back to her. “Really?” He tried to hide his joy that she had returned his compliment. 

Harry stared at them in shock. It had taken Harry a while to decipher what Dumbledore meant when he disagreed with Harry at King’s Cross when he was in limbo. He now realized how it wasn’t peculiar that they had the same Patronus. 

At first, Harry had thought the Patronuses were the same because Snape loved Lily, but know he saw how much deeper it was than that. Not only was it representing the happiest times of his life—this moment specifically—but his true personality. He was incredibly gentle, cautious, delicate, and protective. Looking past the rough exterior and his nature in adulthood, it was reflected in his relationship with Lily. There weren’t many other people who served Voldemort and loved anyone, who showed as much emotion as Snape had. 

Lily and Snape stood in the rain for a while, slowly soaking through their clothes. The rain washed out any color Snape’s face might have held, giving him a ghost-like appearance. His hair looked wet instead of greasy, but still unusually long and unevenly cut. Lily’s red hair stuck to her face and her shoes squished when she shifted her stance. Still, the two seemed to be enjoying just standing there in silence together, letting the rain wash over them. 

Then the first rumblings of thunder began, and a hard breeze picked up. “We should probably go back home. I mean, I don’t think…my parents want company. And probably the same for yours…” Even though she didn’t say it out loud, it was obvious her parents wouldn’t approve of the strange, poor boy she had befriended. And with Snape’s family, they probably weren’t fit to have company in general. 

They said goodbye, and before they parted Lily added, “My parents and my sister are going to the movies tonight, and, well,” she paused, as if embarrassed about the next part, “it’s a horror movie, and…I still get a bit scared during them, so I told them I wanted to study instead, so of course they agreed…so do you want to meet by the tree?”

This must be an example of the occasion where they’d meet twice a day—when Lily’s parents aren’t around to be suspicious about her being outside too much. Harry would learn, later, that sometimes when the rest of her family would go somewhere last minute she would go to their meeting place without previous planning. And most of the time, Snape would be there. With no friends, no particular hobbies beyond reading, and not the best home life, he spent a lot of time out of the house. 

“What time?” Snape asked, eyes glinting eagerly. 

“I think they leave at seven and come back around nine,” she responded, trying to remember. 

“Okay. I’ll be there early, just in case.” Snape flashed a rare smile.

Me too, Harry thought.