Delusion (A Severus Snape love story/Harry Potter fanfiction)

Chapter Thirty-Eight - Anonymous letters

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Snape shoved his way through the thronging crowds, ignoring insults and jeers as he dodged the identically clad adults laughing and joking on the pavement.

He realised suddenly just who they were, cursing his stupidity for walking this way as he struggled to get through.

His thoughts drifted back to the paper laying abandoned on the table amongst empty coffee mugs and stray granules of sugar. He imagined the waitress clearing up, muttering about how he was a disgusting bastard.

Again he cursed, this time the ticket vendor. Just his had he known about him and Melody? Unless... Unless she had told him. Unless she had told some trashy witch magazine about them, drunk on fame and wanting to extend her time in the spotlight.

She wouldn't do that he tried to argue. She's not like that. But he began to realise, with a bitter sense if impending dread, that he didn't know her at all. They had been apart for almost two years, and she had changed.

She was rich, successful. A top of the line job as a player in an internationally renowned quidditch team, mingling with designer men with their designer houses and cars.

And here he was, stuck amongst her team's supporters making their way from a friendly match, thinking that she wouldn't change. Of course she would. She wasn't the girl he had fallen in love with all that time ago. She was a woman, independent and headstrong as she forgot the stupidity of her time with him and moved onto her own coach. Talk about a better model.

A group of teenage boys blocked his path, snorting with laugher as they all poured over a magazine. Snape froze, staring at the cover as they flicked lazily through the pages.

Could it be... No! Surely,

"Give me that." Snape grabbed the magazine, frowning as a familiar face grinned up at him.

"Oi! Get your own, old man." one boy snarled, snatching the magazine back as Snape scowled.

"Look at him, getting all worked up about her. She's too young for you mate! Find someone your own age and stop peeving on Weasley."

Snape skulked off, brooding as they yelled and shouted insults after him. Melody didn't seem the celebrity sort, modelling in magazines and doing photo shoots. But, as he reminded himself, this wasn't his Melody. She was long gone. He had let her go.

He rubbed his temples wearily, grinding to a halt as he tried to sort out his swirling thoughts. Distracted, he apparated, landing a block away from his home - not that he noticed.

He muttered and grumbled under his breath. He was being foolish, stupid, naive. But no, the feelings were still there. All too real, all too painful.

He didn't want to admit it of course, that would be weak. He couldn't tell anyone, hint in the slightest that he could possibly regret leaving her.

When he reached his house he slammed the door do loudly it rattled in its frame, disrupting a layer of dust on the doorframe and disturbing the neighbours dog who barked raucously as Snape wrenched open the study door and stepped inside.

He was immediately met by the familiar scent of books and new parchment, mixing with mouldering, moth eaten curtains and faint reminisces of a woman's perfume he was unable to rid the room of.

He went to his desk, fingers trailing lightly across the wooden surface as he grabbed a heavily varnished box settled ontop, padlock undone.

Pulling out a handful of letters he growled, overwhelming anger riding in his chest as he tore the parchment over and over again, throwing the scraps into a jolting fire which swallowed then greedily, licking his fingertips as the scraps blackened and burned, writing now unreadable.

He continued shredding letters, feeding the fire which roared and crackled in the grate until the box was empty par one scrap of parchment.

He lifted it gingerly in his fingertips, reading the familiar script as a bitterness filled his mouth, eyes narrowing and lips curling.

The letter, oldest of the bunch, was yellowing and curling at the edges, ink pale and faded as he deciphered the small, neat sentences.

You think I don't regret?

I have so many regrets my love, and being with you was not one of them.

But leaving you... Leaving you is more than a regret, an error, a mistake, it's a lesson.

I've learnt it now though, my love. I promise. I've learnt my lesson.

I'll try and be a better person, like you tried to make me. I really will. But it's so hard without you here beside me.

I've never felt so alone... So tormented. Why did I let you go? How could I let the best thing that ever happened to me walk away?

I'm selfish my love. I need you back, I need you in my arms eventhough I know, I am certain I will just hurt you again.

You will never forgive me, I know that. For I will never forgive myself.

If I said I was sorry you wouldn't believe me.

My love, now and always.

Snape fell asleep clutching the letter. It had no address, no sign from the sender. But neither did the others that lay as ash upon the hearth. They were all letters he was too afraid to post. He knew it was too late. A love letter wouldn't fix a broken heart, nor could it bring Melody back. He hoped, a tiny, childish part inside him, that she never stopped loving him. He never stopped loving her.