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Painting Flowers For You by evans_4eva

Format: Song fic
Chapters: 1
Word Count: 879
Status: COMPLETED

Rating: 12+
Warnings: No Warnings

Genres: General
Characters: Snape, Lily
Pairings:

First Published: 05/10/2010
Last Chapter: 05/16/2010
Last Updated: 05/16/2010

Summary:
Ten years after the death of Lily Evans, Severus is still trying to make it up to her and prove that she was wrong about him. He can't help himself; he is still in love with her.



Inspired by "Painting Flowers" by All Time Low.
I do not own the song lyrics or the characters, just the storyline.


Chapter 1: If nothing is true, what more can I do? I am still painting flowers for you...

Severus looked around him, trepidation building in his stomach. The Dark Lord - as he supposed he must now become accustomed to calling him - was prone to meeting in strange places riddled with dark magic, but this... He looked around him. He had been called to a derelict manor house, he didn’t know where, with enormous grounds containing an enormous...maze?

Strange maze, what is this place?
I hear voices over my shoulders.


He could hear people muttering in low voices which sounded as though they were coming from the centre of the maze. He couldn’t understand...how was he supposed to know how to find him? How was he supposed to know what to do next? Dumbledore hadn’t trained him for this.

Nothings making sense at all.
Wonder, why do we race?
And every day we’re running in circles.


He knew that the Dark Lord didn’t know that he had really fallen from his ranks...funny, really, that the murder of the love of Severus’ life had caused his fall from...well, fall from the dark side. The one thing she had ever asked of him and she’d never see this side of him.

Such a funny way to fall.
Try to open up my eyes


If only she’d known. If only he’d managed to make it up to her.

Im hoping for the chance to make it alright.




Back at Hogwarts a day later, having completed the small mission Dumbledore had sent him on, he readied himself for the coming year. He was dreading this new intake of students...he was going to be there. Severus didn’t know if he could bear it...seeing her eyes looking at him across the hall...and the thought that he would be the spitting image of Potter made it a million times worse...Merlin, what had he done to deserve this?!

When I wake up
The dream isn’t done
I wanna see your face and know I made it home.


He knew he’d made mistakes in his life but so had everyone else! No one deserved this - it was torture; he couldn’t bear it anymore...waking up every morning, that blissful first thought of her - before he remembered. She was the one who had made this castle home to him. The one he’d lived every day for since the day that he first met her, all those years ago...

If nothing is true
What more can I do?
I am still painting flowers for you.


His mind wandered back yet again to that horrendous day - the day where they’d lost each other for good... Even now, he couldn’t believe he’d called her that - that - that foul, disgusting, despicable word. Just thinking about it made him feel sick - and that was before he remembered the way her future fiance (he cringed to think of Potter as that) and his side-kicks had embarrassed him.

Throw my cards, give you my heart.
Wish we could start all over.
Nothing’s making sense at all.


He’d do anything to have her back, even if only to tell her how sorry he was, that he’d changed, that he’d never curse Potter again... If only he could talk to her.

Try to open up my eyes,
Im hoping for a chance to make it alright.


He’d opened his eyes to what Voldemort really was. He’d done it for her! He was fighting now, in secret, against Voldemort, for her! And she didn’t even know. And tomorrow...tomorrow he was going to have to face her son in the Great Hall and watch him being sorted into Gryffindor and see her eyes gazing around with the same bewilderment and wonder that he’d seen on her face so many years before. How was he supposed to hold it together when he was in the same room as that?

When I wake up
The dream isn’t done
I wanna see your face and know I made it home.


If only he’d told her how he felt. If only she’d known that he lived his days for her, dreamed his nights away thinking of her, never once forgetting the scent of her hair, the silly giggle she did when he tickled her, the wicked glint in her eye when she was winding him up...

If nothing is true
What more can I do?
I am still painting flowers for you.


He could still see the way she’d get maple syrup on her chin when she ate pancakes for breakfast, how her hair glowed like magic when she danced, how her left ankle had a freckle in the shape of a heart on it...

(I heard everything you said. I don’t wanna lose my head.)

Even now, she didn’t know.

When I wake up
The dream isn’t done
I wanna see your face and know I made it home.


Even now, he was betraying the Dark Lord, risking his life.

If nothing is true
What more can I do?
I am still painting flowers for you.


For her.

I am still painting flowers for you.
I am still painting flowers for you.


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