[Severus Snape and Lily Potter Fanfiction, taking place in the year 1981]
Intertwining of wrongly chosen paths result in the accidental meeting between Lily Potter and Severus Snape. All she intended was a normal trip to the Apothecary, unaware that...
well shit I'm a terrible person bc I meant to update weeks ago
i still hope you enjoy it
warning: toward the end there's an extreme kissy scene *wink wink* so stop when you see it coming if you're not comfortable with that jazz :)
edited by my bby malfoyings
dedicated to: malfoyings who is an absolute darling and my fav writer :)
(Here's a little photo to show what it must've looked like when Severus carried Lily out from the water and to Hogwarts)
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----------------- Chapter Thirty-Seven: Tries and Lies __________
||Third Person||
Severus hardly breathed on the way to his quarters.
Her body... all soaked in lake water. The soft, soothing skin on her body was scratched and cut with demeaning blood smeared everywhere.
What happened?
He couldn't wrap his head around it all, but his mind couldn't afford to lose focus. Yes, his hands were shaking uncontrollably with fear and the tears hiding behind his darkened eyes held woeful spirits. Although he was breaking down physically, Severus knew she was alive. The simple sight of her chest heaving slightly: pumping air through her lungs and exerting from her parted lips, sprang a leap in his step.
He kept trying to move his feet in a fast motion, not wanting to be seen by anyone. They'd all want to help; but he could be Lily's hero all by himself.
Finally, after a various amount of times from nearly slipping on the puddled water beneath his feet; they were at the front of the dark shadowy dungeon. Severus effortfully pried the door open to his room, and stumbled weakly inside.
Hurry up, hurry up you sod. She'll die.
Severus wearily placed her on his bed, and turned around so fast that a crick formed in his neck.
She was laying on the Slytherin-clothed bed as the blood and water soaked into the sheets, completely unconscious. Of course -- whilst being oblivious -- Severus was scavenging every cupboard in his room for a revival potion.
The small gasps of air that desperately emitted from her parted lips signified breathing difficulty. Usually someone would be huffing, catching air in grand amounts -- but she was hardly gathering oxygen. There must be water in her lungs.
Rummaging could've been a professional sport at that very moment -- though at that precise moment a flask of sickly olive revival potion appeared in sight. Silently praying to whichever lord would hear him, Severus made a violent grab for the vial through his pale fingers. He felt so utterly lost with someone's life at his hands; he hadn't even noticed why his eyes were so blurry.
