Take Good Care of Her: A Harry Potter Story

Take Good Care of Her: A Harry Potter Story

Author’s Note: Based off of Adam Wade’s song, which was written by Arthur Kent and Ed Warren, with the same title.   

***

Severus stood stock still, his eyes trying not to mist over. Tears were not common for him. As a matter of fact, they’d been perfect strangers since before he started primary school, but today, at this moment, his heart gave them permission to enter his eyes. Through the encroaching water, he watched as a black head leant closer to a red one. Turning on his heel, he stalked away, refusing to watch his heart being ripped out and destroyed before him, and instead sought the coldness of the Dungeon to soothe the ache filling him. He found an empty classroom to hide in, as he knew the dormitory would be full of people and questions. He could hear them without his dorm mates there to give them a true voice.

‘The mudblood is with Potter.’

‘See Severus, she wasn’t worthy of anything, she picked a blood traitor.’

‘A mudblood and a blood traitor – they make a good couple, don’t they?’

He leant against the closed door, the tears finally accepting his heart’s permission. The darkness surrounding him hid them as they slipped out of his eyes and trailed down his cheeks. He bit the palm of his hand to stifle his sobs. His chest heaved as if to throw the pain away, or perhaps it was his tattered heart being forcefully shoved back into its place, bruising it worse than before. Knocking his head against the solid wood, his entire body shook as wave after wave of emotion rocketed through him. Anger, sadness, frustration, envy, jealousy, denial, and eventually bitter acceptance roiled, shaking him until he was sure that all his hopes and dreams were flung from him to lay in the dust at his feet. Gasping, he curled into himself, attempting to fend off the invisible attack.

His breathing slowed to a normal pace and the shakes left him as his emotions settled.

A voice in the back of his mind mockingly told him he should congratulate Potter. That’s what one does when someone wins in a competition – you congratulate the winner. Severus knew he had technically lost Lily at the end of their fifth year, but he had still lurked around her. Just being near her was his greatest pleasure. It didn’t matter if she noticed him, if she acknowledged him. All that mattered was that she was there. She was his greatest treasure – far greater than potions, the Dark Arts, or even being accepted by others – and Potter had taken her away from him. There was no way he could lurk about while she was with him. It would hurt too much; the pain would cut into him like a knife, reopening the wound that was trying to stitch itself closed.

Heaving a belly-deep sigh, he brushed the tears away, banishing them back to their former status. He just had to accept that Lily loved James Potter more than him. He would bow out gracefully, but he couldn’t congratulate them. Not Potter for winning, nor Lily for picking someone who would raise her status in the Wizarding World. He pushed the jealous thought away – he knew Lily wasn’t interested in status. He ran a smoothing hand down his robes and hair. He doubted he would receive an invitation to the wedding, but even if he did, he would decline it. There was no way he could watch her there with Potter, accepting his ring, his vow, his kiss.

Severus squared his shoulders and strode out of the room. He was ready to face the rest of the school.

***

Sirius, Remus, and Peter all peered over James’ shoulder, staring at the unfamiliar barn owl. It clicked its beak at them, prompting Sirius to give it a piece of bacon. The owl then flew off, leaving the tightly rolled scroll next to James’ plate.

James poked it with his wand, checking for any pranks. When nothing happened, he opened it. The other Marauders read the mysterious letter even as James was looking about the Great Hall. Giving up on seeing who the writer could be, James looked back down at the single sentence emblazoned on the parchment.

“Take good care of her.”

 

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