Author note: Thanks to my sister, Nethea, for the plot bunny. She was telling me about a theory. Here's my take. ONE SHOT DRABBLE COMPLETE!
Distant shouting…the sounds of hexes…the cries of pain…
The echoes vibrated against the walls. Yet, the room was still. A tattered lace curtain floated lazily around a shattered window as a ghost drifting on the night breeze. That was the only movement in the room. The moonlight cast shadows that changed as the clouds crossed over the pale orb that sat in the sky. And yet, the silence, the stillness of the small cube of space was almost palpable.
It was not unlike a cemetery; cold, dark, motionless. And like a cemetery still, death had been here.
The wooden planks were stained crimson from the blood that had pooled from the wound. The red plasma, once gushing onto the floor, now stood stagnant. Pale fingers of one lifeless hand were soaked in the life liquid. One arm extended from the hand and the other bent under the torso. Both legs were straight and parallel to the ground.
The body of Severus Snape was the same as the room…cold, dark, and motionless. He had done his best to find redemption, salvation in his dying moments. The last thought across his mind was that Potter would finally know the truth about everything and, in doing so, would know what kind of man Severus truly was.
This was his only comfort in a life filled with so much pain, so much excruciating torture. If Cruciatus wasn't enough, then watching the love of your life marry another was. Everything he had ever done was in fulfillment of a promise to help destroy a tyrant bent on domination. Severus Snape had indeed been what some would call a hero, or a fool, depending on your outlook.
After all, what had he really gained? Here he lies in his own blood, quite literally drained of all life. What did he have to gain by taking this path so many years ago if he knew, and it is evident he knew, that he would not live to enjoy the spoils of all his hard work? Why do the dangerous things he did? Why be a double spy and take brutal torture when delivering bad information or have his faithfulness questioned in the midst of conflict?
His deep obsidian eyes stare blankly toward the door…all the horrors those eyes witnessed. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul. Was Severus's soul as dark as his eyes? Or is it an optical illusion, like film, reversed when examined; black eyes, white soul, like a negative of a muggle photograph?
The moonlight breaks through another cloud and its ray shines through the window casting its light on a piece of glass next to the body. The small broken shard was once the lip of a phial. Now it remains shattered under his dead weight. One drop of crystal blue potion sits precariously on the sharp edge. If it is tipped, it will surely fall, cutting its form into pieces. If it remains still, then it shall stay whole.
Perhaps Severus had been tipped. Perhaps the cliff on which he clung fell away under his feet and his life was forfeit. The light shifted with the clouds once more, the reflection of which could be seen in a small droplet of crystal blue on his now indigo lips, and it shone in his eyes which were turned to the window.
The room was like a cemetery. If given the right setting, the right timing, one could almost hear the dead breathe.
AN: hehe…yeah the theory that a Potion's Master, with an indepth knowledge of poisons, could get bit by a snake and not have the antidote and blood replenishing potion at hand…interesting. Fan imagination rocks!