WARNING :: SPOILERS ::
If you have not read Deathly Hollows yet, then the story will be lost to you. I beg if you do not like major plot spoilers, that you do not continue reading this story.
E U P H O R I A
My god. What a horrid way to go.
That was the first line of dialogue that flashed through the dying Snape's mind. Quickly, he retched forward - grasping Harry Potter - and imploring for any reminder.
He does have her eyes.
This was not the way Snape thought he would go. Certainly, the idea had played over in his mind since he joined the Deatheaters in his youth, but not in a transaction such as this where the dark lord would humiliate him by killing the man with a snake while his name remained to be tainted traitor to the lines of good.
In short, nasty snakebites to the neck are not worthy of hero worship.
Now, if he had only thrown his body between the Dark Lord and Harry Potter when the moment called for it, visibly to all known sacrificing his life to the potter boy's while bravely playing the traitor in Voldemort's face... now that was a death worthy of hero worship.
Instead, Snape would die cold, alone, and marked as a traitor. He would die selflessly and broken, always unappreciated and loathed by the very community he was protecting. Protecting for their sake? No. But that was hardly the point, at least, Snape thought he deserved a little bit of appreciation that he will probably never receive since the only people who knew his true allegiance were dead (such as dumbledore), or about to die (Harry).
Well, it isn't as if he didn't deserve this humiliating death, really. It was a sad death, but one deserving of the worst kind of traitor. The sort of traitor who murdered his best and only friend in a world that had done nothing but throw pain in his direction.
He sighed, pallid lips drawing air. He deserved this. He truly did. He understood when it was too late that all along he could have had her, and yet when she would ask him to change, he stubbornly maintained the route to evil in the name of Pureblood. Only James actually moved on from being a git to a man, all because Lily only asked him t-
It was then that it occurred to Snape - He had just sighed.
The dead do not sigh. Nor do they think, for that matter.
Eyes flicker, points of black narrowing as the light dazzles his senses. By god, where did all this light come from? Is he at St. Mungo's? Did he survive?
Frustrated, paper greasey hands clutch the ground on either side of him, hoisting his upper body upright with surprising ease. No pain, no stiffness. His head turns, eyes adjusting to the scenery.
... Swings and grass, bright sun melting into a flawless sky. A familiar playground. Moreover, around him, there stood several bodies. In front of him, the strange smiling face of Sirius Black.
His mouth gapes.
"Good going, Severus," The handsome young man pipes, offering a toothy grin, startling Snape who was used to receiving sneers or glaring frowns from the man. Slowly in a sea of voices and standing figures, Black's company revealed itself to the startled professor. Lupin with hands digging into the pockets of his jeans as he blushed, Tonks twisting her nose and winking at Snape with her hand fixed on Lupin's backside. Then there was the Cedric Diggory kid, Mad-Eye Moody with both eyes and limbs comfortably attached, James Potter not a day older than twenty - arm looped around one of the Weasley Twins (it might have been Fred or George, Snape never cared to tell the difference) who guffawed.
"What in the name of Merlin's Beard." Snape gasps.
The youthful and ageless James Potter first steps forward, breaking the circle. As handsome as ever. Without hesitation, he claps both hands together and repeats the voiceless annunciation.
Snape is speechless.
The others follow - A house-elf, the Weasley twin, Tonks, Remus, Sirius, several centaurs, all following along until the entire playground around Snape roars with applause. There are many faces he does not recognize, many faces he recalled only briefly in passing at Hogwarts. Many faces he had saved from Death eaters - saved, but would eventually lose.
They were all applauding. Even Sirius Black, who trades claps for the occasional whoop.
Snape's mouth is agape.
He is going stark mad.
"On the contrary, Professor," A warm voice bellows over the orchestra of clapping. Slowly, the applause dies down, and the crowd splits evenly - giving path to a familiar, comforting sight. Dumbledore strides through, long hair a disarray with the breeze and stopping only a few feet from the baffled wizard who stay strewn on the ground. "On the contrary. I do believe you are going stark... sane."
Snape does not know what to say. His mouth still fixed ajar, tongue and teeth drying in the shock of awe and confusion. Dumbledore uses this silence to his advantage, the audience behind him serves to enhance his figure- all attention remains focused on the confused professor.
"I told you," Dumbledore stresses with a childish grin, "That your soul was untarnished."
"Dumbledore." Snape finally starts, his voice dry with momentary shock and disuse, "...Dare I ask, where I am?"
He only smiles, "I don't know. Just where are we exactly?"
Snape's eyes scrutinizes his environment again, gaze flitting from person to person then swallowing the small gravel stones strewn on the ground. His ears prick at the outrageous laugh of a child, and in alarm, his head swivels towards the swing set.
A little girl, no more than eleven, swings back and forth like a pendulum on the playground set. With every rise, gravity draws her down and returns to the repetitive game. And as she falls, she laughs.
With every swing, Snape's heart swells
The child jumps off at the highest arch, feet bracing into the gravel without slip. Clumsy fingers push back knotted red hair, revealing bright green eyes. She turns her head and stares straight at Snape.
She smiles.
"Snape... I believe you two have quite a bit to discuss," Dumbledore stresses, knitting his fingers together and stepping backwards - melting in line with the crowd.
The girl arrives a few feet away, offering a bold smile with her words, "Hi Severus."
"Hi Lily." There was a childish quality to his words, humiliated and humbled by this experience. Snape had not taken notice that, like the girl across from him, he too had transfigured. He was no longer a tired old git of a man, but rather - like her - a child lay prone on the ground. Wrinkles construed with age were erased, replaced by youth and vigor. He is now smaller, younger.
In the eyes of his company, Snape became a child. He was all along.
Lily offers a hand with a bright smile, "Welcome home."
An impish grin split the young Snape's lips, as if he had forgotten how to smile and felt awkward yet amused that he was trying. He hadn't truly smiled since his youth when he would be side-by-side with her. Snape's smile reflects hers, hand bracing hers as he lifts his small body up. Severus laughs and starts forward, half-expecting Lily to give chase as he breaks through the crowd towards the swing set. James is quick to share an understanding smile with Lily before the young girl darts to join her old friend returned. "Hey Prince!" Lily cries, "Wait up!"
There was no bitterness here. No hate. No jealousy. Only love. And as Severus and Lily compete in a game about who could soar higher on the swings, he could feel nothing else but love swelling in his heart.
He finally found his home.
- fin
Author's Notes ::
Snape died so miserably and terribly. He deserves his happy ending. So here you go - for the real hero that sacrificed everything. Here is your piece of heaven, Severus.