Disclaimer: all characters and names are property of J.K. Rowling. I don't get any payment, I'm just having fun :).
A man in black cloak was nervously striding to and fro in front of large and high doors. The expression of his face was a mixture of anxiety and anger - both of top degree. After several minutes of his silent, but such a tense waiting, a silvery shadow appeared from the dark corridor nearby. A shadow approached the man and whispered something, that made man's face take an expression of great relief. For a tiny second when he closed his eyes and threw back his head, all his wrinkles smoothed out, his sallow-skin, hooked-nosed face became beautiful because of the serenity it radiated.
"Thank you, Baron," he said with respectful ton. "Your information is undoubtedly helpful".
The silver shadow made a sort of a bow and disappeared in the same corridor it came from. Man's face meanwhile changed to show grim pleasure of vengeance. Definitely he was up to make those, who gave him such enormous worry, pay high price for making him lose his nerves. He looked back quickly as he heard a loud "Bang!" and then voices behind him, and hid himself immediately in the darkness of a nearby corridor.
Two teen-aged boys appeared near those doors, where seconds ago the black-cloaked man was on his guard. Boys slowly pushed on one of doors and peered inside. The man in the corridor stood still, making his best to hear lads' talk.
"Hang on..." said one of them - small skinny boy with jet-black untidy hair. "There's an empty chair at the staff table… Where's Snape?"
The man strained in his corner listening to boys' guesses about his presumptive destiny and becoming more grim in the same progression that kids' enthusiasm rose.
"Maybe he's ill?" suggested the second, red-haired thin and tall boy, with unhidden hope in his voice.
"Maybe he is left, because he missed out on the Defence Against the Dark Arts job again!"
Enough is enough, decided the black-cloaked man, and in two steps approached the boys just in time to here red-haired's enthusiastic:
"Or he might have been sacked! I mean, everybody hates him!"
Dark anger flashed in man's eyes to be changed immediately by sarcastic satisfaction as he said:
"Or maybe he's waiting to hear, why you two didn't arrive on the school train."
Boys turned back synchronously - the expressions of their faces were priceless. Harry would laugh out loud if he could, but he was no more than a sort of silent observer, bodiless spirit hung somewhere in the middle of a large hall.
"Follow me" said the man called Snape, turned on his heels and marched away swiftly. Boys, who looked like if they were being led to their beheading, followed him. And as the man disappeared, Harry felt a big hole in his heart, like if the man took away a part of him. He tried to yell, to call him back, but couldn't produce a sound.
"Harry! Harry!" he heard a woman's voice crying far-far away. Suddenly he realized that someone was shaking his shoulder madly. He also realized he had not only a shoulder, but eyes which he opened in a split second, a throat that made a terrible yell, and his whole body that was all in a shiver.
"Again those nightmares?" asked Ginny as she wiped away drops of sweat on his forehead with a border of a sheet. "Again Snape?"
"Yes" Harry muttered with a weak voice, trying to catch his breath. "Again Snape... I can't Ginny, I just can't' sustain it any more!" he sat up on their large bed and buried his face in hands still wet of sweat. "He was so worried about me, he cared about me so much... And he had such a great sense of humour! I can't understand why - why did I never notice any of it? Why was I so blind?"
"Don't worry, dear, - said Ginny hugging her husband, - we'll work it out pretty soon. I'm sure that the ritual went right. Just wait a bit, Harry, ok? Just wait a bit..."
"Hey! What do you think, did we manage?"
"No idea… He can't say anyway. Let's just... Dunno, wait till he can speak?"
"Are you kidding? It could take loads of time from what I know of it! And I'm anxious to understand it now…"
Crap! What Severus was anxious about – is to kill that damned Potter. Honestly – he did everything he could for that prat, why even now, when he is supposed to be dead and buried quietly, he has to listen to this nonsense? He slowly opened his eyes… What the hell? Everything was blurry, strange orange patches were the only thing he could see.
"Oh, here we're coming! My, dear! Finally we can look at him!"
Fuck! Why, on Earth, that Weasley woman always has to scream so loud whether it's joy or disaster? Severus opened his mouth to explain everything he was thinking about Weasley-Potter clan being so close to him, but instead of a well-prepared sarcastic speech the only sound he could produce was a terrible high-note cry. Terrified he shut up immediately, trying with all his might to define what meant all that fuss around him, he still couldn't see anything except for some red patches above.
"Mum! There no need to yell! Look, you gave him such a fright! His eyes are plate-sized because of your screams!"
"But, honey, it's not because of my screams, it's because of his age. He can't focus his eyes yet - it's just nature! Anyway, I want to hold him, give me my precious grandson!..."
And a second after those words were pronounced Severus felt himself hanging in the air and then squeezed with something enormous.
"Oh, what a pretty thing he is!" continued Molly's voice just inches beneath his ear. "I can't stop looking at him! Have you decided already what name you'll give him? I bet, Harry insists on calling him Sirius, am I right?"
Now Severus yelled in a way that stopped all chatters immediately. He understood (thought not completely) the nasty situation he was in, and the prospect to be called Sirius for next several years (till he could find a proper way of suicide) didn't seem brilliant to him. He added some energetic moves to mark his protest and was almost strangled by Molly, who tried with all her experience not to let her beloved grandson to fall down. She was close to lose this battle despite all her perfect mother's skills, because Severus Snape decided to take his life anyway - or to crack his head by the floor, or by being short of air, but he was suddenly taken in other arms - the grip was firm and secure, and the same time gentle. Honestly saying, it felt comfortable. Severus was so surprised he decided to stop struggling for his death for a while.
"Actually", said above him Harry Potter's voice with a tiniest caught, like if the speaking person wasn't sure it's right thing to say, "Actually we're going to call him Albus Severus. I think those two greatest Hogwarts' headmasters are deserving figures to name my son after them".
"Are you sure such name won't... hurt him?" asked Molly Weasley with a quite unsure ton.
"Yes, I am" answered Harry Potter. "Of course I am sure – this is my son, I won't ever do anything that would hurt my baby. I will love and protect him as much as I can!"
And suddenly, (though he still hated Potter), Severus Snape, or, more precisely, Albus Severus Potter stopped thinking about suicide. Because there was something in that Potter's voice that made him feel happy to be treated like this.