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Snow in May has everyone talking that Voldemort left a curse on England even in death. Those of his Death Eaters who remain – very few, this time – and their mourning families, whisper it with bitter, exhausted glee. Everyone else – with fear. With disgust and annoyance and contempt as well – but never quite without fear. Snape wants to shout at them – this is what it means to be immortal. You are giving him what he wants even when he has lost. But no one will listen to him. He is not even supposed to be alive.
He is not supposed to be alive, but he is. He has a vague understanding of how that happened. He wonders if it is worth much to stay alive – what has he got left?
Even that man who saved him – his friend, his mentor, his lover – looks like he wishes Severus had died instead.
Perhaps it was really Narcissa’s doing then. Lucius could never say no to her.
It hurts him the most that he betrayed them twice. The best people in his life after Lily, the ones he loved most, the closest thing he has to family now that his mother is dead. And yet, of all the people he’s betrayed, he’s done it to them not once but twice.
The unseasonable snow feels appropriate.
Severus is too old, has been through too much to kneel in front of anyone, to beg anything of anyone. He had promised himself that if he survived the war, he would never kneel and beg again. But he still cannot bring himself to meet their eyes.
He really has no right to stand here, in the middle of their home, and hope for their understanding, if not their forgiveness. He certainly should not entertain the notion that he could ever again presume to intrude on their marriage. He should never have to begin with.
They do have the perfect marriage. Not only by some archaic Pureblood standards, but by simply human stands of two people who love each other and are partners in everything. They have raised their son as the center of their world and have built a home around him and their love.
The only mistake they had made was allowing Severus to lodge himself into that idyllic home.
He would have betrayed them anyway, but this way it is worse.
“Severus,” Narcissa says finally, her voice soft. “You need to look at me now.”
“Yes, look us in the eye and—” Lucius begins, but Narcissa gets him to fall quiet with a gentle hand on his arm.
He owes them at least this. So, he looks up and meets Narcissa’s eyes.
“You and I both chose love in the end. I can appreciate your choices. Lucius has forgiven that in me, and I forgive that in you.”
She does not smile, but Severus reads the genuineness in her eyes, and a little bit of relief settles in his chest. “Thank you. You were always so good to me, Narcissa.” He does not insult her by trying to tell her that he loves her too. With effort, he allows his eyes to move to Lucius.
Lucius stares him down, slipping away from Narcissa’s hand on his arm. He stalks toward Severus and stares him down. “You don’t deserve this…”
Severus stares up at him, his heart beating fast.
“But I don’t want you out of our lives.”
Severus feels his knees go weak for a moment, and holds himself up by strength of will. He nods, very solemnly. ‘Lucius, I—”
“If you betray us again, I will kill you.”
Snape allows himself a sardonic smile. “That is fair.”