Sweet Silence

A little something for first thing in the morning, as it is here in the wonderful UK.

Enjoy ~ SS19


"He is fading, Albus. I do not think he has much time left." Poppy Pomfrey's voice was sad but almost accepting. She was tired, too. It had been a long fight - and for her to now admit it was most likely hopeless darkened the very air in the room. She turned from the window to look at those gathered before her, "I do not think he is even fighting any more."

Albus Dumbledore watched her for a moment, before nodding. "I understand."

"I have tried everything - but I think he truly does not want to get better - he's tired, Albus."

Albus turned away with a whisper of, "I know."


He stepped into the private room off the Hospital Wing's main ward and looked at the figure lying in the bed. The pillows were upright so he was practically sitting up. Against the pale sheets, Severus Snape seemed so weak and frail. But he did smile at Albus - there was always a smile for Albus - and Albus smiled back. "Good evening, Severus."

"Hello." Severus' voice was soft, something Albus was not used to hearing. He crossed the room and sat next to the bed, not entirely sure what to say.

"It looks like a nice night." Severus murmured. "The stars are out."

Albus nodded, "It is a wonderful night - I wish I could take you out to see it."

Severus tilted his head back and let his eyes flutter closed, "It is no matter."

Albus leaned forward and brushed his fingers against Severus' left arm, "Poppy says she does not think you are fighting."

"I do not want to fight. I'm too tired. I am not afraid to die, Albus."

The very bluntness of Severus' words frightened and comforted Albus, because this meant that Severus was starting to be like his old self - albeit a very weak version. He had cruelly forced Severus to continue fighting in the war last year, which had led to his abduction and thus imprisonment in Riddle Mansion. Five months had passed - and it was only after Lord Voldemort had been defeated that they had been able to rescue Severus. Albus still remembered, in perhaps the most chilling detail, how he and Harry Potter had broken into that cell and found him - how Albus had gathered him up into his arms and Severus had hardly responded to his touch.

Since then it had been an uphill struggle.

Albus looked at the number of cards that populated a small table by Severus' bed - get well soon messages, well wishes and other such things, from people who realised they had underestimated their Potions Professor and protector - Severus did not care for most of them, or so he said, because Albus knew he had read all of the cards several times when alone.

"Is that all right? That I do not want to fight?" Severus murmured, and Albus looked at him for a long moment, before replying, "I will miss you."

"Don't. It's what I want." Severus answered, with the ghost of a smile.

There was silence between them, which Severus broke. "Albus. Will you sit with me?"

Albus looked at him, "I am sat with you."

"No. Sit…with…me. Just once."

Albus understood - "I can do better than that - would you make one final trip with me?"


It was not far, in the end. But now they could see the night sky - even if it was simply an enchantment. Albus had forced his creaking bones and muscles into submission and had sat on the bed next to Severus, one arm gently pressed around the younger man's shoulders. Severus was watching the stars. There was silence between them - they did not feel they had to break it - just silence.

They were no longer doing.

They were simply being.

Albus carefully stroked Severus' dark hair, not needing to say anything. Anything sentimental had been said in the first days after the rescue, when he had pleaded with Severus to remember who he was, told them so much about their relationship and what they had done and what they had become. He had told Severus more times than he could count, back then, how much he loved him.

They had moved past words.

Severus' body was light against Albus'; he had lost much weight because he was not able to eat. Black eyes flickered towards Albus, "Is there any music?"

"Music, my dear?" Albus nodded, "Anything in particular?"

"No. Just something."

Albus picked up his wand - Severus was not able to do that either now, not since his magic had been permanently impaired; the torture had ripped Severus' very essence, it had been so thoughtless and deep - and waved it once. Soft classical music, Severus' favourite piece, filled the air and Albus saw that ghostly smile once more.

Severus closed his eyes and turned his head slightly, wanting to listen to the music, and Albus did not feel the need to interrupt him. He simply placed his hand on top of Severus', stroking a finger against the weathered knuckles, listening to the music and the soft breathing of his friend and watching the stars.

The music finally drew to a close, and it took Albus a few moments to realise that there was truly silence now.

He glanced down at Severus, eyes closed, that smile still present, and realised that the expression would probably never change again.

It had been soft. Painless. Easy. Gentle. That was all that mattered to him now.

So Albus sat in the presence of a spiritless body and listened to the silence.

Silence that meant the greatest fight of them all had ended - and it had not ended it in defeat, or victory - it had simply come to a close, at a time of Severus' own choosing.

Such sweet, sweet silence.