A/N: A couple of quick notes on this piece. Severus Snape has not yet iterated to Harry that he needs to die in order for Lord Voldemort's downfall to be completed. The only information that he receives, by the beginning of this book, is that he will need to face Voldemort, and, as the fifth book states, one of them must die. This story will maintain canon characters, and there will be no pairings generated. The story takes place at the end of book seven, and will build upon a potential, thready and difficult, but catapulting friendship between Harry and Severus Snape. And please note that for plot development, Nagini has the unique ability to practice Occlumency.

Thank you for reading. Know that your thoughts are always appreciated.

{All original characters belong to JK Rowling}

His Decision-

Ties of Black and of White ~

" . . . told you that it was originally Nagini who created this illusion." Harry was deathly still, and held his tongue tightly, not wanting to interrupt the peace that could shatter this minute. Lord Voldemort walked around Snape languidly, not wishing, it seemed, to spend any more of his time out in the midst of the battle, tired apparently, of the troubling prospect. He would much rather, at this particular minute, speak with Snape. He did not know what to think about this new dynamic in the interaction between Snape and his master. However, he was jolted by his next words.

"Nagini is a very unique snake, Severus, as I'm sure that you are aware. Whether or not you are an excellent Occlumens has no bearing upon this discussion. The fact is that ability to see through the confined areas of your mind is of utmost importance to Nagini. I however, find myself confused on a certain matter." There was a pause. Snape had nothing to say on this matter, it seemed, for he was deliberately refraining from answering Lord Voldemort. Harry wondered whether the reason for this was perhaps an undercover tactic of some sort, of which he should not like to be aware of, however the case might stand. He carefully sealed his lips so close that fire could not have escaped from them, his heart beating wildly. He was careful to stay hidden from the interest of Voldemort's keen eyes though, shading himself from the malicious red glow, within the tunnel.

Harry did not want Ron or Hermione to follow him up to the shack, because of the fact that it was not the best way to manipulate his way out of the situation. It may not have been a possibility anyway. He did not know what type of plan Voldemort was concocting, but every time his head burned, he knew that living up to certain expectations where he was concerned would most likely be impossible. Nevertheless, for the short term, he knew that this was the best way to attempt to sabotage everything that Lord Voldemort, and his ideas that had caused the immense amount of misery that they had upon the world, to finish him. Until it was all complete. This is what Harry would do. He only knew that above all, he had to do everything alone . . .

Snape turned swiftly on his heel, and all Harry could see was a flash of black that swished in front of his vision in a whirl of dark heat. He gulped. He had the impossible feeling arising within him that this was not the best way to interpret Lord Voldemort's intentions. He could only watch Snape and listen to his steady but utterly cool drawl.

"The restraints have fallen. What is left of the Order of the Phoenix is now crumbling to your forces, My Lord."

"Severus, you are not designated to the role of finding Harry Potter and bringing him to me, but I am under the impression that you are eager to escape my presence for some reason." Snape stared at him for a moment, his white face slack and papery, not saying a word. The Dark Lord stood against Snape without saying anything. From opposite sides of the room, the two of them were juxtaposed against each other in a very interesting light. Harry had never noticed before, how well Snape's black hair shined underneath the light- Voldemort's wand light.

"I am disappointed in you, Severus. Nagini has communicated with me very recently, you know." Harry looked at Snape again. The Potions Master was quiet. His face could have been painted over in death. He did not seem to have a line in his being to enumerate, and his throat was no longer working with his usual drawl. Harry was in fact unable to make any type of determination concerning the current predilection he held, and he actually found that the Potions Master had become an impossible enigma. He didn't want to crack his trouble, though. He was frightened at the notion of what may become of the next action that Snape decided to take, in spite of himself. Harry could see only the overall infamy of Voldemort's wrath, and the ultimate, true terror that would become those who were in his field of capricious vision in the final end of the war. As his eyes once again rove to Snape's broad breadth of black form that took up the array of stunted space in the cabin, he watched him slowly move forth.

One second passed, and then two, and then finally . . . three seconds passed, and Harry was unable to stay in his current predicament without clenching his hands tightly in painful prevarication.

Lord Voldemort crossed the room in a flash, and Harry was slightly startled by how well the snake-like man with his apparently thin, seemingly meat-less frame, and appearance of sheer malignancy, as well as cruel frailty could move. The axe of a thin wand cut in front of him through the insubstantial, bleak light. He plunged his own wand hand into his pocket, without being able to fully explain his reasons. The wand was point directly in front of Snape, who still did not move one muscle, and Harry fingered his wand critically, counting the moments.

"Explain to me, Severus, exactly why you have been communicating with Abus Dumbledore's Order on a regular basis."

"My Lord?" Snape had drawn his wand as well, and it now lay smoothly in front of him, but he made no move to use it as he spoke now with a cool and collected tone of voice. "I apologize, My Lord. Your meaning is unclear to me."

"Is it?" The words flew straight through the air like a knife, and Harry thought, that if they were crafted from real material, a thin silver knife would have gone right through Snape's heart. "I am surprised at you, Severus," Lord Voldemort continued, while he was softly and in uncharacteristic manner around the room like a fine, spinning lace. Snape watched him warily. "I thought that you were clever in the most, shall we say, uncanny degree." He grew quiet. Harry could feel the pressure in his head building. Voldemort seemed to be contemplating his words carefully.

Snape's black orbs peeled away the layers of Lord Voldemort's statement, by roving to the side more quickly than the Dark Lord could possibly work through the various layers, of what had ironically lay open in the air. They shifted craftily to the side, but Snape still appeared not to have any idea as to what Voldemort meant in his words. His words may have actually passed over him, by the way Snape feigned total and complete detachment from his circumstances.

"My Lord, I have not taken any type of role in the headmaster's plot to defeat you through the Order of the Phoenix, other than, of course, the necessary means." Here he made a slight bow towards Voldemort, which actually looked more like a one degree curvature of the head dipping downward. Voldemort hissed faintly into the air.

"You lie." Snape looked back up.

"My Lord . . . " Voldemort began to pace around him with a furious swish of black, that would have complimented Snape's everyday garments nicely were it not for the obvious contempt that he held for his master spy. Harry would have thought that loathing might be a more acute, and a much more accurate word, in this instance.

"For several years you have been silently defying me, Severus, in a manner that I have been heretofore disposed to think of as mere inability to follow each order I have given to your excellence."

"My Lord?" Snape still sounded blank, his voice as cool, pure, and blameless as whitewash. Voldemort swiveled around so fast on his black boots that, momentarily, Harry thought there may have been some discrepancy between the attachment of the actual boot to his foot and the move. However, his snake-slitted face was a miraculous display of sheer iciness and fury which made him feel unhinged in some sense, although the well was deep inside his body, a feeling much removed from real life. He was watching this display from an emotional chasm that hadn't quite been able to catch up with his mind at that moment. Those red eyes danced with a fluid ease that made him feel a bit nauseous.

"You have deceived me, Severus. I do not know in what manner precisely you have accomplished the task that should have been impossible. Indeed," he said, lowering his eyes in a minute degree for but a moment, as though he were now speaking to himself, "I do not know how it is possible for someone even of your particular calibre to deceive me." He seemed to enter into his own measure again though, instantly, while his eyes snapped back onto the face of the Potions Master. They stared at each other, and then Voldemort smiled slowly. This action alone caused Harry to feel for the first time, as though fear had a real definition. He could not help but to think, that as he watched the slowly diminishing embers of life from Snape's paling, sickly features, that this definition could even present itself to the notorious master of the Hogwarts dungeons, much loathed and feared by the students who crossed him.

"You- don't- " Snape was struggling to find the coherency needed to escape from this situation, but he somehow seemed to understand his fate with ominous recognition, before even Harry. Harry, who now had no scruples- he now knew the truth. Before Snape even moved his wand in a mark of survival, without a second thought, he quickly threw himself out from his designated area, and between the closing space held by Lord Voldemort and the Potions Master. Voldemort's eyes widened marginally, but, behind him, Harry thought that he heard a low hiss spent by Snape that cleared the air between them. However, nothing that either of them displayed to show their recognition played any part in the decision he was making. He looked at Snape for just a split second then. His black eyes were narrowed at him, but they were inscrutable. He cocked his head slightly to the side, and Harry could not tell whether or not he was considering him or he had concocted a plan to murder him within the minute. Lord Voldemort however, was clearly furious.

"Harry Potter," he said in a low tongued hiss. "Yet again you have proved yourself to be completely in disregard of every command that I have ever given." He now cocked his head as well, as though he were considering Harry to be a confused fly that had somehow zoomed up between them guilelessly. "But of course, this would not make the smallest difference to you, would it? You are Albus Dumbledore's puppet." Harry gave a quick firm of affirmation to this, completely ignoring the trembling that was coursing through his body like vehement electricity, angry with him for his actions. He swallowed tightly, but looked straight into Voldemort's eyes when he answered,

"Yes, I am." Voldemort gave another low hiss. Harry was beginning to feel somewhat undernourished and underfed, like a beggar that had sought staples only to meet his untimely death instead. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all. But, he knew what had to be done regardless. He wiped a bit of sweat from his temple. He could detect nothing from the formidable blackly swathed presence behind him. Snape was standing stoically and quietly, as though, perhaps, he thought, waiting to see how this would play out. He looked back at Voldemort. His thin lips were curling in an amusement that Harry would probably have liked to have ignored.

"Well, Severus, it seems as though you are fortunate enough to have gained a follower." He let out a low chuckle. The murmur of his silent voice swept throughout the cabin with an immense chill. "Let us see how we should determine the next victim whose death will be of utmost value. I am under the impression that Harry would like to take your place in our duel," Voldemort enumerated almost mildly. His red eyes cut straight into Harry's now, who could not help but to face the terrible, and inevitable truth. His time was up. All of the Horcruxes had by then been found and destroyed, and, above all- this was it. He was the last Horcrux. He turned back to the Potions Master and met his gaze evenly.

Snape swallowed a couple of times and looked as though he was struggling to say something to him, but the tunneling dark orbs that had glared at him with the thickest loathing imaginable for several years were no longer showing malevolence. He blinked at him, but his gaze was relatively indeterminable. Harry could not tell if he was shocked, faintly surprised, unable to make a decision based on his feelings, or whether he was simply detached from the situation. However, he was able to make one conclusion. Snape knew that he had his mind made up. And as he stood there looking steadily into the face of the man that had tortured, teased, and bullied him mercilessly through all of his years at Hogwarts, a mutual tie of understanding swept between them, tying them together, momentarily. And then, whatever he had seen in his eyes was gone, as Voldemort called him again, and he turned staunchly on his heel, to face what he knew, after all this time, would have to come.