Author's Note: I just saw the film, and I think it rather did justice to Severus Snape's death and to his memories. Thus, this piece combines elements from both the film and from the book.
My personification of Death as a man is based somewhat on the character of Death from Elisabeth, a German musical. However, you do not need to know any of that to understand this piece. If you do know it, then I hope that my writing of him lives up to the standards, and that he was, in my mind when I was writing this, played by Mate Kamaras.
Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable elements in this piece, from Harry Potter or from Elisabeth.
Severus Snape saw Death twice in his life.
The first time was in his darkest hour, in that space and time that seemed so separate from all other space and time. The house was dark, but the night was illuminated, punctuated, by bright streaks of lightening. It was Halloween, but for once, no trick-or-treaters danced upon the sidewalks. The streets were quiet. Night had fallen. And so had the greatest, kindest, sweetest witch that he had ever known.
He stumbled up the stairs, dodging debris and toys dropped by the young son. He passed by James Potter's body, glasses askew upon his face and his wand lying to the side, crushed and broken. He paid the dead man no heed, for it was not James that he mourned. It was James's fair wife, fair Lily, beautiful as the flower of her namesake.
He found her lying on the ground in front of her son's tall cot. Her scarlet hair surrounded her pale, far too pale, face, like an angel's halo. She was truly an angel; she was his own personal angel, but sometimes he rather thought that she considered him her own personal demon. Her delicate white wrists stuck out from underneath a blue cardigan, and it was this sight that made him sink to the floor against the wall, clutching his hands to his heart in agony.
His Lily, his beautiful, perfect Lily lay dead in front of him, and there was absolutely nothing that he could do to save her, to bring her back from her eternal slumber. Her son stared at his mother's unmoving body from his cot, and luckily, he did not cry or scream.
He, though, did cry. Tears streaked down his cheeks and into his white starched collar, soaking into his black robes. Small gasps escaped his throat, and he curled inwards into himself, trying to escape what could never be escaped. This sight, he knew, would never leave his memory. This sight would always curse his memories of her, of his Lily, forever darkening the shadows, forever lowering the veil.
He crawled slowly over to where she lay, gathering her up into his chest for one last, cold embrace. He tried to bring warmth to her freezing body, but there was little that he could do. He of all people knew that one could not resurrect the dead through simply application of warmth, but that rational part of his brain refused to work in this, his darkest hour. He rocked her, slowly, softly, against his chest, keening for a love long lost.
And then, he heard footsteps, soft like a cat's. Reluctantly, he lifted his head from Lily's hair, glancing up to confront the intruder into his private moment of grief.
It was a man, younger than himself. He was blond and fair of face, and altogether he looked a little feminine. He moved with the grace of a panther, and every step was taken with purpose. His eyes, blue and black all at once, darted around the room before looking intently upon him.
"Let her go, Severus Snape," the man, who was not quite a man, whispered, not unkindly. He knelt down to meet his dark eyes, granting him a small half-smile. "She's gone."
"No," Severus said, quietly but firmly. "No."
"I do not think you understand, Severus," the man said, and he did not question how this intruder knew his name. "I must take her with me."
"Who…who are you to take her from…from me?" he asked desperately, hugging her still body closely against his heaving chest.
"You shall meet me one day, in a little more than fifteen years from now, but to you it shall seem an eternity," the man replied softly, his eternal blue eyes looking kindly upon Severus. "I am no god, and I am no devil. I am the in-between, and every person, angel or demon, eventually comes to lie in my arms, to join me in the forever."
"You are Death," Severus said with reluctant conviction. "I…I…did…not know that…that you were…like this."
"I'm not," Death said with a laugh. "I appear how I choose. Usually the person I appear to has some input, unconsciously, into my appearance, but here it is not the case. I have appeared in this guise several times before, and it has served me well." He took a breath, regarding Lily with sudden urgency. "Now, Severus, this is not your time. But it is hers. You must let her go."
"I…I will see her again?" he asked, burying his nose into her hair, to breath in her scent before it faded forever.
"One day, one day," Death replied. "And I will keep her safe until then. I have a few…favorites, shall I say, and I will keep her close to me. There is a woman in particular, a woman a little older than she, who will keep her company, and a young child that she can care for. She will…be comfortable, Severus. Now, you must, you have to let her leave."
"Yes…yes, I suppose…" He tilted her face up to his, kissing her lightly on both cheeks and then upon her forehead. He relinquished his hold upon her, and Death gently took her from him, his coat sleeve brushing against Severus's own.
Death brought her face up to his, cradling her in his arms. He kissed her softly, chastely, on the lips, and she fell limp once more. He caught her and held her close to his chest.
Severus sank down to the floor, holding her wand tightly in his hands.
"I never did understand you wizards and your wands," Death remarked suddenly. "You think you can elongate time, twist and turn it until it no longer resembles what it was originally meant to be. But you all face me, one day, and that you cannot erase."
"I…I will await you," Severus whispered, glancing up.
"Don't," Death ordered. "You must live on, in both body and mind. There will be those who will depend upon you for safety and for guidance. You must live for them. You must live for Lily's child. You must live for Lily's love."
"Lily's…Lily's love…" Severus repeated.
"Yes, yes," Death said. "Now, I must leave. There are others who wait for me still tonight. Do not fear for her, and do not fear for yourself. You have met me once, and most who have met me no longer fear mortal, material things. I must leave, and you must stay on. Do you understand? Do not attempt to meet me before your time, for I will not come to you."
Severus nodded, understanding Death's meaning. "Yes…now…go…" he murmured. He gazed at Lily one last time, and he watched as Death abruptly turned and walked off into the air, disappearing from view, carrying her with him into the forever, the eternal, the land of the dead.
The second time that he met Death, he was the one who was dying.
The snake, the Dark Lord's precious pet, had struck him deeply in the throat. Blood, red and full of life and death, seeped from his neck and stained his starched white shirt. He did not even try to press his hands against the wound, to stop the bleeding, for he knew that it would be worthless.
He heard a noise from the corner of the room, near to the door, and he thought that it was Death, coming for him at long last. It had been a long time since he last saw him, over fifteen years, as Death had promised. He had been ready then, at Godric's Hollow, and he was certainly ready now.
But it was not Death who entered the room; it was instead Harry Potter and his two mismatched friends, annoying Hermione Granger and idiotic Ron Weasley. Though the three were covered from sight by their leader's Invisibility Cloak, he could still tell who was there. Their curiosity, their blatant inquisitiveness, was as blaring as a policeman's sirens.
He watched as Harry threw the clock off of himself, and he saw as the boy's emotions went from concern, to fright, to hate, and back to concern, all in the space of thirty seconds. Anxiously, Severus moved his hands back to his wound. It would do little good to appear to need the help of this boy, even if he was dying. Men of weaker spirit would beg for help, but Severus knew what was coming for him, and he was not scared.
Harry kneeled beside him, looking down on him without a hint of disdain. Suddenly, struck with a thought, Severus grasped the front of Harry's robes and dragged him closer to himself. He knew what he had to do. Even though he hated the man, distrusted him with all his might, Albus Dumbledore had asked him to do this one last thing, to tell Harry Potter this one last piece of information.
He let the memories seep from himself, along with his lifeblood and his tears. "Take…take it," he whispered, hating the mangled mess that his voice had become.
He saw the recognition flutter in Harry's beautiful – her beautiful – green eyes, and he saw a hand reach out and give the boy a clean, empty flask. He felt Harry lean down and reach for his wand, siphoning the memories into the flask obediently.
He felt the last of his blood, his memories, his love depart from him, and he loosened his hold on Harry's robes. It was long past time to leave, and he knew that Death would be waiting, patiently, perfectly for him, to take him away to see his Lily once more.
But there was one last thing he had to do, one last sight he had to see.
"Look…at me," he whispered, begging, pleading with the boy.
Harry tilted his head to meet his eyes, the perfect green meeting the cursed black, and that was all. That was all he had to see, and he had hope that he would find another set of those beautiful green eyes, soon, soon, soon.
He let his hand fall from Harry's robes, turned his head to the side, and felt himself die.
Minutes passed, but they seemed like hours. His soul rested anxiously in his body, ready to leave and join its mate in the forever.
And then, he heard the quiet, barely noticeable, footsteps that he heard all those years ago at Godric's Hollow. He opened his weary, dead eyes, and there Death was, kneeling in front of him, taking his battered body into his gentle hands.
"It's time," Death whispered. "I'm sure you're ready?" And it was a question and a statement all at once, and Severus most certainly agreed with every word of it.
With a kind smile, Death brought his head to his own, sealing his mouth with a kiss. He felt the disorienting jolt of his soul leaving his body, and he watched his body fall to the ground in a heap.
Many men before him had thought that dying would be unpleasant, would be slow and merciless. But Death was neither slow nor merciless, and he let Severus walk beside him, as his equal. He joined his hand in one of Severus's, and the two walked off into the forever.
When they reached that place, Death relinquished his hold on Severus, instead letting him walk beside him. He no longer needed a guide; this, for it was where Lily was, was home. The two walked quietly for several minutes, finally reaching a little cottage by a river. It was bordered on all sides by grass, green like Severus had never seen green before. Everything was unearthly beautiful, and he supposed that he must have done something right with his life after all.
Death grinned at him, showing teeth that were never meant to kill. He pointed gracefully to the bright red door of the cottage.
"Go on, Severus," he said. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?"
Severus nodded, though butterflies floated in his stomach. This was it. This was the moment.
But he had a question. "Death," he said, stopping the man before he disappeared again. "What about…James?" he asked.
"Her earthly husband?" Death clarified. "Marriage is 'until death do us part', is it not?"
And with that, he smiled and disappeared again, leaving Severus to stand there in front of the cottage.
He shook his head, feeling his black hair against the nape of his neck. It was long, as it always had been, but there was something different, something cleaner about it. He put on a hesitant smile and walked forward, knocking the door.
It swung open, and there she was.
Her hair was scarlet as ever, and her green, green, green eyes looked excitedly upon him. She seemed to hold her breath for a moment, and then he felt her upon him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He breathed in her scent, and it was exactly as he had remembered it, all those years ago.
She did not have to speak, but he knew the words that she was feeling, for he felt them too.
I love you.