He killed himself.

The words flew around Severus’ mind as the people around him disappeared. He hadn’t known it was possible to feel any more abhorrent.

He understood now. He knew what was really at stake. He was the only one who could stop this tragedy from occurring.

“I’m ready, Lily,” he whispered hoarsely. “Take me … take me back.”

She looked at him, a steady flow of tears pouring from her beautiful eyes. “Not quite yet, Severus. One more stop first.”

Their final destination was Hogwarts’ Great Hall. There was clearly some sort of event happening, due to the lavish ice decorations and an abundance of flowers. At first Severus thought heavily that maybe it was the wake of Harry’s funeral—but then Ron ran into the hall from the antechamber, calling, “Severus!”

“Different reality?” Severus enquired.

“Yes, technically. But I’m hoping the events aren’t impossible for our own.”

They watched as Ron—who looked several years older than the last time Severus had seen him—skidded to a halt in front of alternate-Severus. Both were in dress robes—brand new dress robes, Severus noted—and looked nervous.

“What’s wrong?” alternate-Severus asked, looking the young man up and down.

“Er … it’s Harry. He’s a bit nervous … could you talk to him? I’m not really good at the mushy stuff.”

Alternate-Severus hurried into the antechamber. Harry was standing in front of a mirror, also in his best, looking blissfully older—Severus had never been so happy to see someone had aged—but quite pale.

“Cold feet?”

Harry whirled around. “Dad! I didn’t see you there.”

For some reason, the word ‘Dad’ didn’t surprise Severus any more. In fact, he felt strangely … warm.

“Are you all right?” alternate-Severus asked, venturing closer. “Ron said you were getting nervous.”

Harry did look a bit agitated. “Yeah—just a bit.” He paused. “Any advice?”

“On getting married? I’m afraid not,” alternate-Severus said with a sigh.

“I just keep thinking … what if I mess up?” Harry bit his lip, suddenly looking much younger. “What if I’m not what she expects? What if—”

“Harry.” His father gently took his shoulders. “It’s all right. No-one’s expecting you to be perfect. Nobody is perfect. You’re both going to let the other down from time to time.”

“Great pep talk, Dad.”

“I’m just saying, you’re both in the same boat. It will be fine. And when you do mess up … just say sorry. Before it’s too late.”

As if from far away, Severus felt Lily take his hand.

“Don’t I … can’t we watch …”

“Now, Severus, why would I want to spoil it for you?” Lily said, smiling for the first time since she had appeared. “With any luck, you’ll get to experience it for yourself one day.”

“Don’t I even get to find out who he’s—”

“No!” she said with a small laugh. “Come on, Severus. It’s time for us to go.”

He took her hand one last time, and when the whirlwind had finished, they were back in his quarters. Somehow, they felt very bare and lonely now.

Lily was back to looking like a ghost, and Severus had to force back tears. He couldn’t describe how it had felt, to see her, feel her, beside him again—like no time had passed; like she was alive once more. But now …

“I never left him,” she said quietly.

“Sorry?”

“Harry. I never left his side. It broke my heart, everything he went through … all those times he used to cry for me in that damn cupboard, and I couldn’t do a thing about it.” She wiped away angry tears. “It took me all this time to find a way to help him. Severus …”

“Yes?” he whispered.

“Please … when the time is right … tell him how much I love him. Tell him that I sent you to him.”

Severus nodded, unable to speak any more. Lily was beginning to fade away, and his heart broke; he felt like he was losing her all over again.

“Lily—wait—” He almost choked; the words were so hard to say around the Quaffle in his throat. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Severus. I know.” She smiled tearfully. “I watched you too, you know. I know you’re a good man, really; you just need some sense knocked into you sometimes.” Severus let out a strangled chuckle. “And I know I was angry before, but …” She took a deep breath. “I forgive you, Sev. And I’m proud of how far you’ve come.”

A weight seemed to lift off his shoulders at the words, but he barely noticed, eyes on her translucent form. “Don’t go … please …”

“I have to,” she replied, mouth trembling. “This isn’t where I belong anymore; you know that.”

“I love you.”

He hadn’t said those words in a long time. And he knew they wouldn’t enable her to stay. But he had to say them again.

“Severus.” Lily drew nearer, even as she was fading; she came right up to him and kissed him. Well, sort of; they barely touched, but he could feel her presence—a ghost of a kiss.

“I love you too,” she whispered after finally drawing back.

“You—you do?”

“I never could stop.”

She was barely there anymore. Severus couldn’t move; couldn’t think; couldn’t say anything else; he just watched as she faded away to nothing. As she did so, he heard one, last, echoing instruction.

“Make me proud, Severus Snape.”

She had gone.

Severus didn’t know how long he remained standing for, as if expecting her to come back. But she didn’t, and finally, he moved.

He picked the Firewhiskey bottle up, hesitated, and put it back in the cupboard. He wandered through his quarters as if in a trance. Eventually, he sat down on his bed, and wept.