Melt
Severus Snape let the crystals of snow whip at his black cloak as he stood, arms folded. The powdered snow was being lifted and spiraled into the dark air, dancing lightly, and in this cobalt twilight he thought he could hear the bells of the distant town chiming the hour.
Midnight.
Another year, come and gone, and a new one to commence.
He did not know what to expect, after everything he had experienced and endured. He could not fathom what more the world could hand him, in the dismal, half-smiling way it had. Life had not been especially kind to him, nor had it favored him in any way when it came to love, luck, or anything else one wished for.
Yet he knew that he had a purpose, whatever it may be. From his vantage point here, he felt like he could reach out a slender pale hand and grasp the sharp, white purity of a star and hold it to him, drinking in its stark beauty and clarity. If only he could feel the same empowerment to grasp whatever fate had planned for him. He had never felt so helpless, yet so in control, of his own life.
Change was coming slowly to the world. Hours from now, students would wake with their families, warm and bundled, emerging into the icy, fresh new world. Similar to waking up from a long dream, or emerging from deep waters.
He imagined it was what it felt like to be alive again.
Now he had all of the time he could hope for to find a purpose, to find a reason. He lived on as a spirit to count the years, and this was the first he had spent so ethereally. It was a refreshing feeling, if he had to be honest, which there was no point in not being.
He had taken notice of how time had degraded him, making him thinner, more ill, more pale, more irritable. Yet he had never given thought to what else it had given him: new breaths, new chances to experience life and simply exist. He had always met strife, indifference, hatred…now there was bliss. Release. He had left everything behind.
He raised the left sleeve of his robe. The Dark Mark was slowly fading. The more time he spent away from the world of the living, the more it faded. It was almost gone. His sins…they had almost disappeared.
The stars glittered, and he lifted his eyes, imagining that they could still reflect the stars. A tear slid down his pale cheek.
He felt alive.
Walking away from the hilltop, he left no footprints. But where he had stood, the snow had melted.
Happy New Year!
Disclaimer: Severus Snape belongs to JK Rowling, though I often pretend he's mine. No copyright infringement is intended.