A/N: Well, this is my Snarry fic, so I'm a bit nervous of how this will turn out. I'm not sure how often I'll post, unfortunately, as I'm not planning this in advance, and it's unbeta'ed. (If you want to beta, pm me^_^) I am excited about this plot, and I hope everyone reading this will enjoy it too! I'm always happy to recieve reviews, and they encourage me to write quicker, and even write more than otherwise, so review away! On to the story! -Auro


Severus Snape. The most feared Potions Master at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. At least, he used to be. Not much to be feared of when said Potions Master is dead. Well, he's supposed to be. Everyone think's he is. But, for some reason, the man is alive and well. If 'well' can be constituted as living in solitude and never venturing farther than his yard. Out of everyone Snape knew, even in passing, only one knew he was alive- Minerva McGonagall. The woman was insufferable, but she was also his lifeline, bringing him food, and news of the Wizarding World struggling to build itself up again.

Snape moved to the door of his tiny cottage, hidden in the remote jungle of a remote island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. It was perfect for his resources, because it only had one other village on it, and the islandlers knew to keep their mouths shut about him, if anyone ever came asking. Stepping outside, he donned his Japanese styled hat, blocking his face from the sun, all the years skulking in the dungeons having apparently done irreparable damage. His jeans were dirt dusted, though he still wore his heavy wizard robe, not willing to completely give up his wizarding ways.

He walked quickly and purposefully towards his gardening shed, undoing any of his wards he'd set up last time with some quick, wordless magic. He grasped several tools, including a spade, and then made his way to the garden he kept, growing full of vegetables and herbs, as well fruits and even some flowers, though they were few and far between. His garden was lush, and overflowing with obviously cared for plants. It was easy to see that Snape spent quite a lot of time outside tending to it, though if asked, he would either deny it, or snap out something to do with having nothing else to occupy him. Bending down, he began to dig around weeds attempting to invade his space, and patiently culled them back, mostly likely, even Snape was willing to admit, the first time he patience for anything since Lily was in his life.


As dusk began to settle in the evening sky, a lone figure cloaked in emerald made it's way up the dirt path towards a lone cottage, set into the trees. They noticed the man digging in his garden, before the man noticed them. "Severus." She said warmly, standing off to the side, from experience. It came in handy, considering Snape turned around with his wand drawn, a curse halfway spoken.

He quickly cut himself off, snarling. "Minerva. Couldn't have given me a warning? Or called ahead, perhaps?" Years of solitary living had done nothing to dull Snape's sharp tongue, something McGonagall noted with amusement.

"Would you have allowed me to come, if you knew, Severus?" She asked rhetorically, already knowing the answer. "I have come to ask a favor." She admitted, knowing he didn't appreciate drawing small talk out.

"No." He drawled, going back to digging the weeds out of his plot of land.

"You don't even know what it is I'm planning to ask you!" She cried, exasperated already, only having been in the man's presence for a few minutes.

"I believe it is safe to assume that someone, somewhere, has approached you, needing help with a drastic and mortal problem that you believe only I can solve." Snape murmured, not looking up. "Am I correct?"

McGonagall sighed. "Yes, but,"

"No." He said again. "No one is to know I'm alive. We've discussed this. It's better this way."

"For God's sake, Severus! The Ministry has given you an Order of Merlin First Class! What could be the worst that would happen?" She demanded, knowing this person would need the help of only this man- no one else would work.

"They would revoke it, Minerva. I'm dead." He said flatly, standing and turning to face her, wiping his long, pale hands on his dark jeans. "It is safe to give such an honor to a dead man; An alive former death eater, the murderer of Albus Percival Brian Wulfric Dumbledore, they would give to the dementors in a heartbeat."

McGonagall sighed. "I should have known that this would be hopeless. I will return with the news that their life is forfeit, I suppose." She said, playing one last guilt trip, though she knew it was pointless.

"Who is this person?" Snape asked, telling himself he wasn't curious, just that if he even considered helping them, he deserved the information he asked for.

"If you won't help them, why should it matter who's life is ending?" McGonagall countered, starting out down the lane once again, leaving the black haired man to his thoughts, and bitter self-doubts.

"Meddling old fool." He mumbled, walking into his house, not bothering to put his gardening tools away, something he'd never forgotten to do since his time being here. "I owe no one anything. The person can just find someone else to help." He murmured, though a seed of guilt stuck in the back of his mind throughout the night, keeping Snape from his sleep.

"Damn her." He muttered the next morning, pulling on his black slacks and Wizarding Robe, looking much as he did when teaching, though several years older, and thinner, if possible. "This does not mean I'm helping." Snape growled to himself, setting off down his dirt path, poorly made, and headed for the nearest floo station, to take him to Hogsmeade, so that he could meet with McGonagall, and agree to give this mystery person at least a chance, a chance to prove they were worth abandoning his secret, even if to only one person.