Severus Snape paced back and forth, back and forth.
It was cold. The stars twinkled icily above. He could see his own breath frosting mistily in the still air.
The cold didn’t bother him, though.
He was used to it.
His long black robes trailed through the dead leaves, making a rustling noise that was loud in the stillness.
She’d said to meet her here. In the old forest where they’d used to go. They’d gone almost every day, before. Just to talk or to play or to pretend they were knights of old on a great quest to slay a dragon, like the characters out of one of her books.
She never would agree to be the captured princess and wait patiently for him to rescue her.
Once, she’d even persuaded him to be the captured prince and then she’d come along and rescued him, slaying the evil dragon herself.
And that was Lily all over.
Slay the dragon and save the weak, even if they didn’t want to be saved.
The essence of Lily.
He hated the potions recipes that