A Long, Long Time

A/N: Thanks to my beta, Good_Witch!

***

Wait for the day

"Long, Long Time" by Linda Ronstadt

I stood there, exhausted from my memories, still clenching the letter and photo in my hand. Lily. The woman he loved, who was dead, but for how long though? Dumbledore had refused to speak more about it, and now that he was dead, there was no one else to ask. Our life at Spinner's End that summer went along without too much incident after I had slipped out of the castle, rather than face the alternative of being unceremoniously thrown out. Severus had left me instructions as to where our new residence would be in case he had to leave abruptly. I was forbidden to come out of my room when the Death Eaters came to call. I spent lonely days trying to clean the dilapidated old hovel while Severus spent more and more time away with the Death Eaters. Then there were times our presence was requested before the Dark Lord. Not that we needed our privacy.

Married for a year and still a virgin. Oh, we had moments when Severus was asleep and would wander his hands over me and I would hear that damn name, "Lily, oh Lily!" I would lie there, letting him touch me, willing my mind to shut down. I hated Lily, I decided. Then there was that day Severus found out I had taken the letter and picture and he had hit the ceiling.

He strode into the bedroom where I had been resting from a headache. He snatched the cloth over my head and bored his eyes into mine.

"You do realize there are perfectly capable potions to rid yourself of that malady," he sneered.

"Well, I seem to be having them every other day, Severus," I snipped back.

"Alright," he began in his most menacing teacher's voice. "I'm going to ask you only once. If you lie to me, you WILL regret it," he ended dangerously.

I lifted myself up from the bed and stood to face him. "Fine," I answered coldly. "Ask."

He was livid. His eyes flashed with such anger as he bared his teeth and ground out, "Where are my belongings?"

I knew exactly what he meant, and I was in the perfect mood to fight. I sauntered over to him with my arms spread and said sarcastically, "Why, I'm right here!"

"Don't!" he warned, raising a finger menacingly.

I slapped his hand away. I wasn't afraid of him. "Please...don't insult me. Just name it plain, Severus. Ask about your secret...Lily." I added silkily, "Maybe if I dyed my hair red and changed my eyes green, you'd fancy me!"

I had overplayed my hand. He approached me from another avenue. Calm and serene, he smiled maliciously and said, "Jealousy isn't pretty on you, Victoria."

I had half a mind to hex him into oblivion. Instead, I turned from him in order to compose myself and decided to throw caution to wind and go right for the jugular. I swung around on him and with all the naked honesty I could muster, solemnly said to him, "You're right, Severus. It isn't. But, you know what, neither is sating yourself in your own self-pity. No wonder everyone distances themselves from you...eventually. You like being the wounded soul. You gain life from it; it nurtures you. And I'm sick of it. So, to answer your question, Severus, I found your pathetic secret shrine."

I whipped over to my bed table and threw the letter and picture to the floor at his feet. "There, take it back!" I shouted, "That's all you'll ever love, and that's all that will ever love you back."

I snatched my cloth back from his hand. Suddenly I didn't need it anymore. I knew I looked like the very devil, but my head felt much better after shouting. Besides, I wasn't going to let him disturb my peace. I lay back down on the bed and covered my face again, waiting for him to explode.

Instead, he left me softly and in peace. Once he was gone, I peeked out from under the cloth and saw the letter and picture were gone.

"Dumbledore the Fool!" I thought. His great plan of "loving Severus out of his pain" had not made one iota of difference in him. And his attitude was rubbing off on me! I could feel myself sinking deeper into the depression that comes from self-pity. I was becoming numb and I just didn't seem to care anymore. The rest of the summer went by, including my 17th birthday and our wedding anniversary, with very little said between us. There seemed nothing more that could be said. I had spoken the truth, and we both knew it perfectly well. The polite and civil cohabitation from our first months came back, and I started missing our times in the dungeons, just the two of us, sometimes laughing, sometimes silent, but content. Maybe, what I truly was missing was hope. The hope I had a long time ago when I was a bride, looking at that mirror, dreaming that one day Severus would look at me and see me as a woman he could love.

***

It was a great relief to get back to Hogwarts, although times had changed. The Anti-Voldemort Movement was wracking havoc among the new Ministry of Magic. Harry Potter and his lot were all over the countryside doing God knows what while Severus and I languished at Hogwarts as spies. I hated the detestable practices the Carrows inflicted on the students. At least Severus and I had a common mission: to try and protect the students as best we could. I knew whose he was, how much he had respected Dumbledore and how he hated serving the Dark Lord, but I never pressed for any of the particulars of his sabotage. I was changing. I smiled less. I had given up my childish fantasies that I would ever be anything more than a needful thing.

Severus was downright beastly at times to the staff now that he was the new Headmaster. But suddenly, around the turn of the year, pleasant changes of events were occurring in our marriage. We started spending more and more time talking again, and I realized how deeply he needed reassurance. There was much more than just self-pity underneath him. I realized I was married to a truly insecure man who felt no one could accept him or love him for himself. Being Headmaster did not help his anxiety. He was used to being hated, but the downright mutinous behavior of the students wore his resolve thin. There was so much he couldn't tell me, and I knew he was aching to. There was nothing I could do to exorcise such deep-seated demons. All I could do was accept him with all his many flaws.

Once, I went into his office and he was standing at the portrait of Dumbledore, crying. I was completely shocked. Out of pure instinct I reached my hands up and around his shoulders and hugged him. He turned around and took me into a crushing hug, then slipped down, grasping my legs, sobbing, gasping for breath. "Please," he whispered, "please tell me I'm not lost."

My voice choked up, and I gazed up at Dumbledore and saw the tragic smile I had seen the day I accepted my marriage proposal. I reached down and held the man in my arms, stroking his hair.

"I love you," I whispered softly, "and please don't feel you need to tell me you love me too. I just want you to know after all this time, after everything, that I just love you."

"What if I can't believe?" he whispered back.

"Then it's not going to stop," I breathed.

***

As the school year wore on, I spent more time at night trying to reassure him of his mission. Every night, I silently told him how proud I was of him and would never leave him. Every night, I kept my promise to be a source of support, just by sitting close to his side and holding his hand silently. There was nothing for me to say; I had told him I loved him. I stopped expecting anything from him. I just accepted him as he was. I was starting to learn the art of listening to my husband's silence.

And then one night, to my shock, he finally gave up the fight and looked into my eyes. I had been talking to him in bed about nothing of consequence and became uncomfortably aware of his eyes. I tried to avoid his penetrating stare, but he would not let me be. Then he took me in his arms.

He pulled my arms down on the mattress, and I slid down on my back as he rose over me. I was frozen in the unknown. He undid the buttons on my nightgown and slipped it over my head. I was still frozen in disbelief. He kissed me and enveloped me with his breath, hands, and desire. He fumbled away his nightshirt, and I felt my knickers slide down my legs. He urged my legs apart, and the pain I felt with his penetration was nearly eclipsed by the force of his need. It was tender and full of emotion. All of his pushing away and rejecting of love came crashing down. He couldn't touch my skin enough. I felt his lips all over every inch of me. Then, as he rocked inside me, he cried, saying, "Thank you," to me over and over. When he gave in to his passion, he climaxed, screaming the most precious name I could ever hope to hear, for the name he cried out was Victoria. Then it was my turn to break down. I cried and cried and he held me.

After I calmed down, he finally told me about Lily: how much he loved her, how much he hated himself for hurting her when she had been his best friend, for being a part in her death, and how he wished that he could have married her. His regret was that he could never allow himself forget, never forgive himself; it was as if in forgiving himself, her death would be lost and meaningless.

"Then it's not going to stop," I said.

He was silent for a while and then spoke, unable to look me in the face. "Victoria, what has happened...I have never been with a woman. I have never..." His voice broke. "Can you forgive me for doing this to you? I never wanted to take this from you. You deserve a whole man, a man who will be true and devoted to you and only you."

"Shhh," I whispered, looking into his eyes. "You said my name when you were inside me. Was that real?" My heart throbbed with fear at the possible rejection.

He looked at me with such sorrow. "Yes." He breathed deeply and lifted a hand to my hair. "You have been my friend, my companion, the dearest..." He stopped speaking, apparently too overwhelmed to speak.

"Really?" I squeaked, my voice barely audible.

"Yes," he said resolutely. He then lowered me on the bed and began to touch me in all the places I had yearned for so long. Being a novice, I guided him to the most imitate area I ached for him to touch. I shook violently at his first caress of my swollen womanhood and saw his eyes linger as he slowly gazed up and down the length of my naked body. After so much longing, I came fast and violently, responding to the deftness of his fingers, saturated with my wetness. As I moaned and shuddered, he leaned over me and whispered into my mouth, "I do love you," and took my moans into his mouth.

Afterwards we lay on the bed and I slipped my hand in his. I had never felt so happy, so satisfied, in all my life. After a long time, I finally spoke.

"Severus, you know Potter is coming soon. You need to do...to finish what you started. I can't be there at the end, but I'll help in any way I can, and I will stay and fight. I'll help you keep your promise...for Lily. But I need you to know that Lily forgives you."

He sat up and looked at me angrily. "What do you know of it?" he snapped.

"Look what you did for her son! All these years...you did what you could, and you will see it to the end. She knows. She forgives."

"I don't know if I can believe."

"Then it's not going to stop."

"I love you, but I still love her, and it hurts still...so much."

He looked away, and I reached up and drew his face back to mine. "I know. But you have to decide for yourself. Lily's gone. Only you can truly save yourself from this pain because if you don't, it's not going to stop."

Suddenly, there were deafening sounds and scurrying. He then hissed and clamped his hand over the Dark Mark. We looked at each other, understanding immediately without words. The Battle had begun. Severus leapt out of bed and was dressed in a flash. He grabbed his wand and turned to me, wanting to say something. I motioned for him to go on. "I'll find you," I promised. "Go, and hurry!"

He gazed at me naked and kneeling on our bed one last time with longing in his eyes and then swiftly turned and was gone.

***

I was there at the second Battle of Hogwarts. I saw Remus and Tonks fall. I walked along the war-torn corridors that were so eerily silent and hollow. Earlier, in my desperate flight from an unknown Death Eater, I stumbled upon the dead body of Fred Weasley propped up against the wall and had been unable to scream, only to get up on my feet and continue my mad dash. Once I had found myself momentarily safe, I realized the battle was now concentrated in one area. The great shouts and echoes coming from the Great Hall mesmerized me. Half conscious and exhausted, I did not expect to see what I was to find. I witnessed the spectacular defeat of the Dark Lord by the hand of Harry Potter. I swelled with pride as Harry vindicated my husband's memory and told the truth of his bravery and the true love of his life: Lily Evans Potter.

After it was over, I walked aimlessly, my hair tumbling halfway down from the bun from which it had escaped. My black, silk dress was ripped in several places from various injuries, and I was covered in bruises and blood. My wand hung limply from my hand. I was so numb. During the battle, I had not been able to find Severus. Then when the Dark Lord fought Harry, I learned the fate of the only man I ever loved.

I walked among the dead and wounded half hoping to find Severus' body and half hoping I wouldn't. I just didn't want it to be real. Faces and faint smiles reached my sight, but I could only half-heartedly respond. I heard whispers as I weakly limped by. Finally, I stumbled upon Harry Potter and we looked into each other's eyes. I saw the eyes of the woman in that photograph staring back at me...the eyes of Lily. Without a word, he strode to my side and wrapped a firm arm around me, supporting me, and took me to the Shrieking Shack where Severus' body lay bloody and lifeless. I stood numb and then finally crashed to my knees with my hands covering my face. I started to wail, like my very soul was leaving me. Harry knelt beside me and held me with one arm across my chest and arms and his head on my back as I cried, wailed, and screamed. I cried over what had been and what should have been and what never could be. It seemed like days passed as I released all the emotion over the past two years. When I finally fell silent, Harry rose to leave me to mourn and talk to Severus in private. I grabbed his sleeve, and without looking at him I said, "He never stopped loving your mother... I was a fool."

"No," Harry replied, "I think you helped to give him the courage he needed to complete the promise he make so long ago. Besides, how can loving make you a fool? I'll be back with Ron later to reunite him with the... others." He gave my hand a squeeze as he walked away.

I nodded as the tears streamed down my face. It was time now for goodbyes, to face the truth of everything that had happened. I lay down on the floor next to him and placed my warm hand into his cold one.

It's not

"Wise Up" by Aimee Mann