Hello! This is my first Harry Potter fanfiction. I just got into it about a week ago, and I have watched all the movies by now. Of course, Snape is forever my favorite, and I thought he deserved better, so this came about. I apologize for any discrepancies with spells and the like as I have not gotten my hands on the books yet. I did my best to keep Snape in character. Sorry if he isn't!
It is also pure coincidence that the writing and uploading of this work corresponds with the one year anniversary of Alan Rickman's death, but what better way to cheer up than to read some Snape lives fanfiction?
RIP Alan Rickman. We'll miss you always.
Severus Snape knew working for the Dark Lord—or against him—was highly dangerous. That was why he never failed to carry a small vial of Felix Felicis on him, whether he needed to use it or perhaps someone else who had gotten themselves into a dangerous situation.
In the darkness of the Shrieking Shack, barely recovered from being thrown out the window by McGonagall, he knew the Dark Lord was coming. He knew he would try to gain full control of the Elder Wand, for it had been him who had slain Dumbledore. From beneath his robes he drew the tiny vial, which glittered like a tiny star in the night.
"Don't fail me," he muttered, and downed the potion.
The effects were almost immediate. Though Severus knew the feelings were induced, for once in his life he felt that all would be well.
It was not a minute later that the door to the Shrieking Shack banged open and the Dark Lord himself swept in, Nagini following close behind.
"You have preformed extraordinary magic with this wand, my lord, in the last few hours alone." Severus told him what he felt was the right thing to say.
"No," Voldemort croaked. "No. I am extraordinary, but the Wand resists me."
"There is no wand more powerful," said he. "Ollivander himself has said it. Tonight, when the boy comes, it will not fail you, I am sure of it. It answers to you, and you only."
"Does it?" Voldemort asked.
Severus feigned ignorance. "My lord?"
Voldemort began to circle him. "The Wand…does it really answer to me? You're a clever man, Severus. Surely you must know: where does its true loyalty lie?"
"With you, of course, my lord," said Severus.
Voldemort stopped circling. "The Wand cannot serve me properly because…I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner." He stepped towards Severus. "You killed Dumbledore, Severus. While you live the Elder Wand cannot truly be mine. You've been a good and faithful servant, Severus…but only I can live forever."
Severus braced himself. It was coming. "My lord…"
Before he could finish, Voldemort lashed out and cut him. It was not an incredibly deep one, but enough to cause him to fall back against the wall in shock.
Voldemort regarded him coldly. "Nagini, kill."
The snake struck, burying her fangs in the side of Severus' neck. Terrible pain lanced through him, but he did not cry out. It's not working! he thought to himself.
Satisfied with her work, Nagini slithered back to her master, and they Apparated away without another word.
"Vulnera Sanentur," Severus whispered weakly to himself, briefly raising his hand to touch the wound on his neck, his hand coming away bloody. "Vulnera Sanentur."
Just then, the door flew open, and the Potter boy and his two lackeys entered. As soon as Potter sighted him, he was at his side instantly, pressing a hand to his neck.
Severus' vision was growing fuzzy. Perhaps I'm dying after all, he thought to himself. The potion didn't help me. He wasn't sure if it was emotions, the urgency of the situation, or purely because of the pain, but tears leaked from his eyes.
"Take them…" he gasped to Potter. "Take them, please."
Potter looked back at his friends. "Give me something. Quickly, a flask, anything!"
Granger dug around in her pouch and pulled out a tiny glass vial, handing it to Potter. He pressed it to Severus' face, gathering up a few of the precious tears.
"Take them to the pensieve," Severus said. He still had that feeling that all was well, though he was dying. "Look at me," he told Potter.
Lily's green eyes met his.
"You…have your mother's eyes."
Darkness overtook him.
He was surprised when he next opened his eyes to find himself still in the Shrieking Shack. He didn't know what he had expected to find when he died, but the Shrieking Shack was not one of them. He tried to sit up, only to growl in pain as his wounds complained. He looked down to see the cut Voldemort had inflicted crusted over in dried blood. He reached up and carefully felt at his neck. It too had scabbed over, possibly because of his spell.
Maybe the Felix Felicis did work, he thought. It seemed that he had fallen in such an awkward manner that Nagini only managed to pierce the side of his neck, not puncturing the major veins.
"Vulnera Sanentur," he growled, placing a hand to his neck and the other on his chest. "Vulnera Sanentur." He repeated the incantation several times until he felt the wounds begin to close up completely. The pain he had previously felt subsided, and he managed to push himself up into a better position.
For the first time, he noticed the sunlight streaming into the Shrieking Shack. Normally he did not care much for it, but for some reason it felt good to gaze upon the light. He was lucky to be alive, literally.
With a jolt, everything else came crashing down upon him.
So…when the time comes…the boy must die?
Yes. He must die.
Had Potter seen his memories? Had he gone to face the Dark Lord? Had he died? Thousands of questions stormed through Severus' head. He stumbled to his feet, disregarding the pain that still throbbed throughout his body. It didn't seem right that he would cheat death and Potter would die. Worse yet, maybe the Dark Lord had won! He grappled for his wand within his robe, getting ready to Apparate into Hogwarts, when he stopped to listen. He did not hear a sound, rather it was the lack of noise that gave him pause.
All was calm, and quiet. Had the Dark Lord won, surely there would be a ruckus like none other. But no, there was nothing. There was stillness.
Hope sparking within him, Severus raised his wand and Apparated away.
He did not expect several things.
For one, he did not expect the Great Hall to be turned into an infirmary when he appeared in the middle of it. He also did not expect Apparation to have such an adverse effect on him, as he stumbled and nearly fell over. Lastly, he did not expect to see a majority of Hogwarts' residents to be present in front of him, watching their Potions Master stumble about like a fool.
For a small eternity, there was not a sound. Then a voice said: "Severus?" Minerva McGonagall's stunned face appeared in his dizzy line of sight. "Severus, is that really you?"
"No, I'm an impersonator," he hissed irritably, trying to gain his balance but failing. "Of course it's me!"
Minerva took him by the arms, steadying him as she peered up, studying his face, still looking stunned. "Oh Severus, it really is you!"
Before he could get a word in edgewise, she had seized him in a hug so fierce it caused him pain and began to sob. He could only stand there in confused silence as she cried, unable to formulate any words. All the while he was consciously aware of the students' gazes fixed upon him, they too seeming as stunned as Minerva.
Fortunately, Madame Pomfrey came to the rescue, saving him from further embarrassment. "There's nothing to see here! Get back to work!" Carefully, she led the pair to a far corner of the room, where prying gazes could not see.
"What are you crying about, Minerva?" Severus growled at her.
The Professor finally broke away from him, wiping at her eyes. "Harry told us all that you were dead!"
The realization settled over Severus. "Oh. What day is it?"
"The 3rd of May," Pomfrey supplied, her eyes looking watery as well.
I was out for quite a few hours, he thought. No wonder.
"He told us that the snake got to you," Minerva said between sniffs. "I was going to send out someone to get your body soon."
"The Dark Lord," said Severus. "He is…?"
"Dead," said Minerva.
Severus closed his eyes. He knew he should feel relief, but there remained the one dreadful question. "And…and Potter?"
"Alive."
Severus' eyes snapped open, staring into the other Professor's tear-filled ones. "Alive?"
She nodded, her smile growing. "The boy lives, Severus."
He stumbled backwards, suddenly feeling very dizzy again. Pomfrey helped him sit down against the wall. "How?" His voice was barely above a whisper.
"He found the Resurrection Stone."
Of course. Once Potter revealed he had to die, the Stone would come to him. He was so relieved he could have laughed.
Pomfrey ran a quick diagnosis on him. "You're all bruised and cut, Severus!"
"What would you expect from being attacked by a snake?" he replied.
"I'll get you a healing potion." Pomfrey bustled away.
"How did you survive, Severus?" Minerva asked quietly.
"I had a little bit of luck on my side." He stared at her, waiting for her to catch the meaning.
She let out a laugh of pure disbelief. "Liquid Luck?"
"And you thought me foolish for carrying it around," he said with a smirk.
Her eyes grew tearful again. "I will never call you foolish again. Or a git, for that matter."
He raised an eyebrow at her. "Don't go assuming you'll have to be nice to me now that I've cheated death."
She shook her head with a laugh, wiping away a few stray tears. "It's not that, Severus, it's just…he told us. Harry told us about what he saw in your memories."
Severus scowled. "Those were confidential."
"Don't worry, he only shared with Hagrid and I." She paused, drawing in a shaky breath. "I want to say I'm sorry for calling you a coward or for ever doubting your loyalty."
"And for throwing me out the window?"
She smiled. "Yes, that too. Will you forgive me?"
"Of course," he said, putting on an air of nonchalance. "You didn't know. No one did. I don't blame you."
Minerva sighed in relief, a few more tears escaping.
Normally Severus would have jabbed at her sentimentality, but for some reason he could not bring himself to. Admittedly he himself was feeling rather emotional, and it was certainly not because the Potter boy was alive.
At that moment Pomfrey returned, giving him a healing draught. "This should help you."
He accepted the potion and downed it quickly. Almost immediately the stinging of his cuts faded and his head cleared.
"How do you feel?" Pomfrey asked.
"Almost normal." He made to stand up, but Pomfrey pushed him back down.
"Don't even think about getting up. I think some bedrest is in order."
"I hardly think that will be necessary—"
"Don't give me that, Severus Snape!" Pomfrey waggled a finger under his nose. "Don't tell me bedrest isn't necessary after you've just narrowly escaped death!"
He scowled at her, looking for all the world like a petulant child. "I wish to speak with the Potter boy, Madame."
"I'm sure the news of your presence will reach him quickly if it hasn't already," Minerva said. "I will see to it that he reaches you. Besides,"—she smiled fondly at him—"I don't think I'm ready to let you out of my sight again just yet."
Severus felt almost relaxed in the bed Madame Pomfrey had made for him. Though he largely preferred silence, the sounds of the students chattering away in the Great Hall soothed him. Perhaps it was just the mere fact that they were alive, and not enslaved under the Dark Lord.
Though many undoubtedly had questions, Madame Pomfrey had strictly ordered them to leave him alone. Even if she hadn't, he got the feeling they would be too scared to approach him. Just as well.
His peaceful reverie was broken by the slam of a door and footsteps pounding on the stone.
"Where is he?" an all-too-familiar voice asked.
Severus did not hear the response, but the next thing he knew, the Potter boy was coming to a halt in front of his bed. Green eyes wide with amazement and disbelief, Harry gaped at him.
"Snape!" he cried, forgetting his title of "Professor" in his shock. "How did you—how did—"
"Professor McGonagall filled you in, I trust?" Severus queried. He felt a weight lift off his shoulders as he saw the Potter boy standing in front of him, alive and well.
"Yes, she did, but…" Harry stared at him. "I thought you had died."
"Clearly not," Snape retorted. In a slightly softer tone, he added, "For a while there I thought I was dying too, until I woke up."
"Professor, I…" Harry trailed off.
"Well, speak up, Potter!" Some of Severus' snappishness returned. "Just because I'm not teaching doesn't mean I have the time to listen to you stammer!"
"I wanted to say I'm sorry," Harry blurted out. "I saw your memories and I wanted to tell you how sorry I was because I never realized—"
Feeling rather abashed, Severus held up a hand, stopping him. "Enough rambling, Potter. Your apology has been accepted, though I feel it is I who should be apologizing to you."
Harry's brow furrowed. "Professor?"
"My actions towards you over the years were not kind, and for that I must ask your forgiveness." Severus briefly felt a pang of uncertainty, wondering if he would actually accept.
"Of course, Professor!" Harry said. "After all you've done, it's the least I could do. You're the bravest man I ever knew, and I'm just so glad you're alive."
"Of course," said Severus drily. "I told you in the first year that I could put a stopper in death, but you weren't paying attention, of course."
Harry flushed. "Actually I was paying attention. I just didn't believe you."
Severus snorted. "Insolent boy!"
Harry only smiled at him, eyes glittering.
"Potter?" he said after a long pause.
"Yes, Professor?"
"I'm glad you're alive too."
If you have any suggestions on something to write next, please feel free to tell me!