Author's Note: A warning that this is an epilogue, of sorts, to "The Demiurge" and if you haven't read that yet you'll be a tad confused on what Gilgamesh is doing in England and why he says he's married to Lily

The summer of 1996 belonged to Severus' demons and the past that should have long since stayed buried. Voldemort had returned, as youthful, vigorous, and disarmingly beautiful as he had been before his death, as if he had never died before. More, he made no pretense of not having somehow in some impossible way, gotten Eleanor Lily Potter under his thumb.

There was this bond between them, since the very first time he had horrifyingly seen Ellie Potter in the Riddle manor, that was not a light one and not one easily broken. And all he could think was that somehow Severus had failed before he had even begun, that his claws were sunk so deep into her pale skin that there could be no removing them now.

That had been years ago now though, two years ago, and yet somehow time had made it only worse. The war was beginning and the ministry already falling to it without hope of surviving the year, Albus now suffered a curse from which he would soon meet a bitter painful end that Severus could only slow at best, and the fate of the world rested upon the trembling shoulders of Neville Longbottom or else the unwilling shoulders of Ellie Potter.

"Ah, so you are the mongrel who derives joy from the tears of children," Severus looked up to see the golden red-eyed man staring down at him with an amused and contemptuous smile as if merely by sitting there in despair Severus provided him pitiful entertainment, "I have been looking for you."

And perhaps the worst of all in the summer of 1996, was that after two weeks in July of their lord and Eleanor Lily Potter's absence, the pair had then returned with an Einzburn child homunculus and Rin Tosaka inexplicably in tow as well as the golden-haired man who called himself Gilagamesh of Uruk.

If the children were distrustful and unnerving, sticking close to the dark lord and Ellie Potter, the last pair they should be trailing, then the man himself was a demon. It was his eyes, his eyes that seemed to see past all of Severus' occlumency barriers and into the wretched fabric of his soul. His sharp eyes saw, and the derived amusement from the sum of Severus' mounting failures.

"For me, my lord?" Severus asked warily, Goyle had made that mistake first, had not addressed the man as a king, and in return his head had been cut off by a sword appearing from a shimmering golden portal to some other world much to the dark lord's silence and seeming indifference.

No one had made the same mistake of the dark lord's new ally, new brother in law as he inexplicably called himself, since.

"I have been told by my wife that I have not lived until I have ruined Severus Snape's life and reputation," the man's thick golden necklace glowed not only in the firelight, but that burning light that seemed to shine from the man's pale skin, as if starlight moved through his veins instead of blood.

At his words, Severus couldn't help but pale, and wonder what part of him could take this strange man so very seriously. To wonder if he wasn't, somehow, in some way, Gilgamesh of Uruk after all, removed three thousand years from his own lifetime.

Because even with all the mystery a part of him was more than willing to take Gilgamesh at his word.

"Your wife?" he questioned, forgetting subservience for the moment, but the very fact that he had to ask seemed to amuse the man further.

"I believe the mongrels refer to her as Eleanor Potter," Gilgamesh dismissed, Severus clearly among the mongrels, and at his words he felt himself pale further and realize that he truly had mostly seen the man around Ellie Potter and rarely without her. That when he looked at her he would soften, if only for a moment, and the way he'd reach out for her hand or disappear with her into the night…

"Ah, you are displeased," the man noted as he poured himself a glass of Malfoy's wine, without any regard for the vintage or price, "Is it my wife that displeases you or the fact that she is my wife?"

"I would hardly say that I am…"

"Hold your tongue, mongrel," the words were sharp and biting, those of a king rather than any ordinary man, "That I tolerate your worthless presence at all is generosity on my part, should you think yourself clever enough to lie to me I will have no choice but to return your cur's body to the earth and the maggots."

"Forgive me, my lord, you do not seem like a generous man," Severus said slowly, indeed, that he was ruthless enough that the dark lord was willing to allow others to bow before this golden idol said more than enough about whatever generosity he possessed.

"I am the king of kings, and a king is generous unto his vassals and wretched to his enemies. As the subject of my brother you fall under my own kingdom," Gilgamesh explained, as if this was all perfectly rational and far beyond someone like Severus to question, "That, and I am in need of amusement, my wife insists upon returning to your magical school in the Fall and I find my brother's revolution tedious at best."

And why was it that Severus was somehow certain that Gilgamesh had said as much to the dark lord's face, yet still lived to tell the tale, and why did that very thought terrify him beyond all measure?

"Oh come, though it is your place to cower before me I had not expected you to do it so soon," Gilgamesh said as he sipped his wine in contempt, looking at Severus and finding him lacking, "After all, you have never been so wise as to fear my wife."

Fear, fear Ellie Potter? Sometimes yes, he feared her, or he feared what she represented, but even now he felt his features twisting into disgust at the very idea of it.

"She is far too lenient on you mongrels, she could have been the queen of heaven even before meeting me, and yet she let you drag her through the mud," something in Gilgamesh's expression twisted as he thought of Ellie Potter, "In that she and Saber are of a kind, the suffering and torment they will endure for what they deem the greater good of their people. I will never understand it."

A smirk then, across pale lips, "Perhaps your head then, mongrel, as a departing present for this school where she insists I do not follow?"

"I do not believe she would appreciate that, my liege," Severus said slowly, and the man considered him, then seemed to relent.

"No, I believe she would be rather put out," he said with a sigh before nodding towards Severus, "Besides, it'd hardly do to derive her of entertainment. Though I must say, even the dark prince Kirei Kotomine was far more of an entertaining monkey than you're proving to be. So haunted by guilt, at every turn it bleeds off you, and yet you're still so terribly blind to everything that matters. It has made you dull, hasn't it mongrel?"

And Severus did not dare respond, did not dare to answer yes or no or ask what he meant or how he knew, just watched as those lips curved into a smile, watched as he stood towering above the seated Severus with wine in hand and said, "Your death, I think, shall be the most pitiful one of all."

Author's Note: Written for the 400th review of "The Demiurge" by Kuroyuki no Ryo who asked for... well, not necessarily this fic, but the events of the next grail war which I decided to interpret as a short story of the aftermath of the fourth grail war. Mostly, Gilgamesh following up on a drunk conversation he and Lily had in a karaoke bar and being his usual wonderful self while Severus slowly dies on the inside.

Thanks for reading, reviews are appreciated.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Fate/Zero