For the Love of Lily

His tears sketched silver tracks down his snow white skin. They radiated in the moonlight that filtered through the bending trees. The area looked magnificent; it was a true testament to love straight from a fairytale. Many ash, willow, and maple trees, accented by a dense carpet of ferns set the scene. The centrepiece in this fantasy was a waterfall plummeting past the rope bridge, and crashing into the yawning river below. The impact released a spray of water mixed with mist, which added a haunted quality to this rain forest. The concussion of water blotted out his cries of longing for the one true blossom in his life. A blossom extinguished like a flame in a windstorm.

The troubled youth squinted with his almond eyes black as night and wet with anguish, while he traced his memories of precious meetings with – her. Looking up from his distress, the hoary beams caught his hooked nosed profile; it glowed pale in the raven eve. He swept his vision across the foliage of trees, grass, moss and ferns that surrounded him. The delicate shades of green reminded him of her eyes, emerald tunnels that seized him, and dragged him into the depths of such splendour, the reaches of her profound and beautiful love.

She trusted him; she loved him; Lily saw something in his being nobody else could. It was her quality, her splendid eminence to find that hidden light. He felt a subtle caress, feather soft, scented with lavender; Lavender – her favourite perfume. He placed a sallow hand upon his neck, and Snape savoured the feeling as if Lily’s touch rested there. His gaze lifted to the stars that smiled in a diamond carousel above his flaccid curtains of raven black hair. He stared into the midnight sky and searched for her, as if he could reach out and pluck her from his dreams. A shooting star, a comet tail with a spray of crimson filtered through the swirls of cosmic dust. He imagined her long scarlet hair sprawled across his lap. A wonderful image of when they counted stars on their backs in the spring night from the distant past. Her laugh haunted him while it unfolded in his mind the waves of memories grew.

At once, he stood from the musty ground. His racing mind knew the need to tell Dumbledore his story. His agony only the wise sliver-haired wizard would understand, and the world would come to know. He needed to tell of his heart when it shattered on the night Lily was no more. The evil Voldemort murdered her in cold blood; he was the king of the Death Eaters, an order he revived from ancient times. The young Snape needed to tell of the night he lost himself, and closed a chapter of his heart. How he buried his soul away from all knowing minds. The eve when the once alive gaze of beetle-black tunnels became empty pits. They were wells of anger that would one day seek her revenge.
Severus Snape was a Death Eater no more. …

For the Love of Lily


Joined March 2011

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Artist's Description

This is a fan fiction piece from Harry Potter.

Snape loved her, he always loved her; nobody ever owned his heart as she. The young Severus Snape makes a move Voldemort never suspected.

Artwork Comments

  • Short-Shanks
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