Chapter 157: A Desperate Man in the Dark
Chapter 157: A Desperate Man in the Dark
Sherlock stood watching him, shaking his head helplessly. He didn’t urge him, just waited patiently.
Snape stared at the small house for a long time, eventually drinking the Polyjuice Potion.
His appearance rapidly changed; his hair became neat and smooth, and his weathered face reverted to its youthful state.
Apart from the look in his eyes, which didn’t match that of a typical teenager, Snape had returned to his appearance at seventeen.
He climbed over the fence surrounding the yard and entered the garden. He clearly remembered Lily’s room—it was on the ground floor, the farthest to the right.
Before their falling out, they had often chatted through the window, dreaming about which House they would be sorted into at Hogwarts.
There was also this patch of grass where, during the summer after his second year, Snape had secretly come to see Lily. He was discovered by her sister, Petunia, who screamed that he was a freak and told her mother that he had trampled their lawn.
Behind the small house was a little back garden. In the summer, he and Lily loved to sit by the wall, gazing at the stars. Although the sky was always dark and hazy, they could always guess what the constellations looked like based on what they learned in Astronomy class.
Snape had never truly believed he would ever set foot in this yard again.
Yes, he had fantasized about it many times, but those were just dreams. Now, he was here in reality, and the person he had longed for was just on the other side of the window.
His eyes had become moist without him noticing. Snape sniffed, looking at the dark, curtained window, and gently tapped on it with his fingers.
The person inside didn’t seem to be sleeping deeply; the slightest movement woke her, and the soft light from the bedside lamp came on.
“Who’s out there?”
Hearing the voice he had only heard in his dreams for the past decade, Snape forced his voice, trembling as he spoke.
“It’s me, Severus.”
The person inside seemed to pause for a moment. After a couple of seconds, she got out of bed and pulled back the curtains.
It was a beautiful girl with long, wavy auburn hair. On the other side of the window, she frowned and glared at Snape.
Seeing her face, Snape couldn’t hold back his tears anymore. They silently streamed down his cheeks as he stood there, mouth agape, staring at Lily like a wooden statue that only knew how to cry.
On the other side of the window, Lily saw Snape’s expression and felt a bit at a loss. She opened the window.
“What do you want, Snape?”
Snape, almost in tears, braced himself against the wall. He apologized in a low, humble, and remorseful voice.
“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. It was wrong of me. I shouldn’t have said those things to you.”
Lily looked at him, lips pressed together, her face expressionless.
“You’ve apologized to me many times for this,” her voice was cold. “I’ve already told you, I will never accept your apologies.”
Snape lifted his head, looking at her with such a pitiful gaze. He had never begged anyone like this, pleading for her forgiveness.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I only ask for your forgiveness. Everything else doesn’t matter. I haven’t thought about anything else. All I need is your forgiveness, just that.”
The words he had spoken to Sherlock about reclaiming Lily and taking revenge on the Blacks had all been forgotten by Snape.
His only wish now was so simple: he just needed this girl’s forgiveness, just one word of forgiveness.
But Lily still looked at him with cold eyes.
“Do you really need my forgiveness, Mr. Snape? Your talent in Dark Magic is well-known, and all the students in Slytherin House look up to you. You have your own friends—Rosier, Wilkes, Mulciber, and your most respected senior, Malfoy. Even after Malfoy graduated and joined those people, you still kept in touch with him. You get along so well with them. Why do you need my forgiveness?”
Snape tried to explain but couldn’t find the words.
Because everything Lily said was true. The word "Mudblood" was just the final straw. Before he said it, their relationship had already grown distant due to Snape’s obsession with Dark Magic and his preference for friends who favored pure-blood theories.
All he could do was make promises, hoping to regain her trust.
“I won’t, I’ll cut ties with all of them. I won’t study Dark Magic anymore. I won’t do anything you don’t like!”
“You’ve said these things to me before,” Lily remained unmoved. “But after each promise, you didn’t change at all. I’ve thought a lot about our relationship over the summer, Snape.”
Lily calmly watched Snape, who was in a pitiful state, and she wasn't even willing to call him by his name.
"In fourth year, when you dragged me along to study dark magic with you, I should have realized it then. You're just like your friends, you enjoy those torturous things, and you admire that person's theories without any attempt to hide your reverence. Your words were just a reflection of your true feelings."
"All our friendship ended a long time ago, and there won't be any future for it. You don't need my forgiveness, and I won't lie and say I don't blame you. We have no connection left."
Snape's face turned ashen, his eyes becoming vacant once more, and he was too despondent to utter a single word.
After discovering he had traveled back in time, he had fantasized that if he apologized to Lily more sincerely, more genuinely, she would forgive him. But all of that was just a fantasy.
What had been done, the mistakes committed, could not be so easily forgiven with a mere apology and a promise.
If Sherlock had brought him back to 1977, or even earlier, Snape might have had a chance to make things right. But now, he had already committed all his wrongs.
He had even planned it out on the Knight Bus: if Lily forgave him, he would immediately find a way to replace himself in this time. After graduating from Hogwarts, he would take her away from Britain, far from everything, to change the future and escape that cursed fate!
But all of that was just a fantasy in his mind.
"It's very late, and I need to sleep", Lily said coolly, about to close the window.
Snape, however, nervously held onto the window frame, staring at her.
"You don't have to forgive me, but you can't be with Potter! It's dangerous for you! It will cost you your life!"
Hearing his words, Lily's face turned angry.
"We aren't even friends anymore, so don't overstep your bounds! Who I choose to be with is none of your business!"
"No! Please believe me, Lily! I'm begging you, you really can't be with him! That person will kill you, he will kill you!"
Their loud argument caught the attention of Petunia, who lived upstairs. She opened her window and shouted down at them.
"If you keep arguing, I'll wake up Mum and Dad!"
"Bang!"
Lily slammed the window shut, pulled the curtains, and turned off the lamp.
Snape stood motionless in front of Lily's window, like a soulless shell.
In the dark night, a desperate man stood alone.
At this moment, Sherlock sighed softly and walked over to Snape, looking at him with a shake of his head.
He grabbed Snape's arm, dragging him like a lifeless puppet, and led him away from the Evans house.
"Try to let it go, old boy."
While Snape was talking to Lily, Sherlock had been leaning against the wall, listening to every word.
On the dark, quiet street, Sherlock led Snape aimlessly.
He knew Snape didn't need comfort; if comfort were effective, Snape wouldn't still be so regretful after all these years.
As they walked past a street, Sherlock spotted a Muggle bar that was still open and pulled Snape inside.
The city was small, and few people ventured out at night, so the bar was nearly empty.
Sherlock found an empty table and sat down with Snape. He tossed a golden Galleon to the bartender, who was polishing a glass, to verify its authenticity.
He had Muggle currency on him for emergencies, but the bills were from around 1990 and wouldn't be usable in this era. He could only afford to pay with Galleons.
"Whiskey, rum, or tequila—any strong drink will do."
The bartender quickly determined the Galleon was genuine and promptly brought them two bottles of whiskey.
"If you need more, just let me know."
Sherlock waved him off, indicating they didn't need further service.
He set up the glasses and poured a full glass for both himself and Snape.
Snape stared at the glass in front of him, still in a dazed state.
"There's nothing left to say, Severus", Sherlock said, raising his glass. "Drink. It will help you stop thinking so much."
At this, Snape finally moved.
He numbly picked up the glass, the reflection of his pale, disheveled face in the glass, and downed the drink in one go.
(End of Chapter)
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