If you had asked Severus Snape where he thought he would end up when he died, the most probable choice of words would most likely be hell, of course.
He never expected his life, or afterlife, to turn out this way.
He could still remember, in almost haunting detail, the moment in the Great Hall when he fired a curse towards the Chosen One, and his colleague, a woman of such blunt courage and determination that he admired her, stepped in front to protect the boy.
He knew this scene. Lily had died in it, and it was not his job to ensure that Minerva did, as well.
So he flew out the window, into the night, leaving behind a Severus shaped gap in the glass.
Later that same night, he would stand, never fearful, only relieved, as the Dark Lord he had pretended to serve for 16 years prepared to execute him, and think, well, this is the end...
Perhaps if he had 'good behavior' in hell, he could get time off and... and see Lily again.
Maybe he could visit Albus, as well.
Still, for all his thoughts on death, and old friends, and finally, finally getting eternal rest, he could never have fully prepared himself for the shock and utter surprise that accompanied the feeling of the heavy snake striking, sinking long, venomous fangs again and again into his neck, till he thumped to the floor of the Shrieking Shack, and his former master left him, his so-called favorite, to perish on the floor of this hovel.
His body was made a prison, the venom in his blood the jailer. He was making movements he didn't know how to stop, his eyesight growing blurrier every second, a strange heat behind his eyes that made them feel coated with something boiling and syrupy. It was getting harder and harder to breathe, and with his eyes slowly blinding, it was hard to tell one thing from another.
When the Boy-Who-Lived himself came into the Shack, with his two friends on his heels, weeping openly for the life of a good man, no matter how much he had disliked him, Severus had first imagined it was the original James Potter himself...
But there was nothing that could keep Severus from seeing those eyes, those green, green eyes, for anything but what they were - Lily's.
He poured every bit of strength into every fibre of his being into the arduous task of secreting memories, memories he had long hidden up, held close to him, never to part with them, or so he had once thought, and they gushed out as silvery liquid, pure as his love for the one woman he had done everything for, the one he had given his life's work to... Take them... Take them...
Look at me, he remembered saying, haltingly, wishing with all his might to die staring into the eyes of the only woman he had ever loved, his life-long weakness, his soul's only strength.
He remembered, as the eyes of his mortal body dimmed and closed off, as his heart stopped and the breaths stopped rasping down his throat, a feeling of euphoria, of relief, of such freedom as he had never experienced in life, and he woke up, in a place that looked like Kings Cross, the station that had brought him home in September and away from it in June.
But, he realized, it was so clean. Pristine, white, and pure. A voice called his name, Severus! and he was suddenly aware of people clapping him on the shoulder, embracing him, one even pressed a kiss to his cheek... And he looked up.
Before him, looking altogether pleased, and remorseful, and appreciative, and so very grateful, were the people that had made him him.
Albus Dumbledore, a proud look in his twinkling eyes, looking young again, and holding a bag of lemon drops. His mother, remorseful, but oh, so tender was the look in her eyes... Sirius Black, jovial but with a plea for forgiveness in his grey eyes, James Potter beaming at him, a look in the Hazel eyes that said thank you, thank you, Remus Lupin, wise as sage, welcoming him with a look that said see? They're not SO bad, Severus, welcome home...
And Lily, standing straight backed and elegant, on her husband's arm, red hair bright and dark against her skin, green eyes jewel bright and flashing, saying my son, Severus, thank you for protecting my son.
Then Lily stepped forward, embraced him, and he buried his face in her hair, clinging to her desperately, a strange ache in his chest, tears springing joyfully into his eyes, and his heart swelled...
I'm sorry, Sev, she said, and I forgive you.
Can you forgive me? she seemed to ask. I should have tried harder to save you.
You've already been forgiven, his eyes answered.
James Potter came up to him next, Sirius Black ever present at his side, explaining that they were wrong, so very wrong, and they'd like a second chance, a way to redeem themselves, to know the real Severus Snape instead of Snivellus, and told him that they were missing a fourth Marauder...
He took both proffered hands, the clap on the shoulder from Lupin... And for once, he felt truly accepted.
He faced his mother, and she rushed to him, hugging him tight and kissing his cheeks and his forehead, lavishing upon him all the affection she had neglected to give in life. She was speaking to him between her hugs, telling him she was so sorry for neglecting her boy, but she was so very proud of the man he had become without her...
He wept into her shoulder, taking the comfort from her presence.
At last, he turned to Dumbledore, his mentor, the man he loved as a teacher, whose eyes were twinkling behind his crescent moon glasses, still bearded, looking so very pleased, and he offered him a lemon drop.
As they lead him On, he thought to himself that maybe, just maybe, hell could wait.
Heaven felt pretty good. Even if the train was Gryffindor red...
Come on, Sev, Lily said, placing one hand in his and the other in her husband's. Let's go home.
And they did.
A/N: So... What did you think? This is my second fic, so it's not very good... But, you know, practice makes perfect! Read and Review!