He could feel himself slipping in and out of consciousness, and his hand fumbled for the bezoar that he had tucked in his pocket, just in case a situation like this had ever arisen. It was his backdoor option, his way out of the wizard world that had rejected him, branded him as traitor. Finally, his fingers closed around the life-saving stone and he popped it into his mouth, waiting for it to take effect.
As he felt himself begin to regain strength, Severus placed his right hand tightly over the place where Nagini had bitten him. When he had finally gained enough strength, he focused on the healing words that would close his wound and completely heal him. In the chaos of the final battle, no one noticed him slipping away. Giving one last look to the place he had once called home, he shook his head and apparated to Spinner's End.
The house was quiet and empty, perfect for his needs. Stripping off his torn and dirty robes, he tossed them into the fireplace, starting a fire with his wand. Then he collapsed on the dusty couch and fell into a troubled sleep.
When he woke up in the morning, every inch of his body ached. Groaning, he pushed himself up into a seated position, burying his face in his hands. The first order of business would be to take a shower and wash the grime and gore of the previous day off him. "Merlin's beard, this is going to be awful," he murmured as he stumbled upstairs to the bathroom. Muggle technology was so inefficient, but he couldn't afford to use magic. He was bound and determined to live life as a Muggle, no matter how mundane it might be.
After the shower, he was feeling a little more human, a little more alive, and he went to his bedroom. Opening the closet, he pulled out a crisp white shirt and a pair of black trousers, before going over to the dresser and grabbing out boxers and socks. Getting dressed was a challenge, as his body was determined to remind him that he was still injured from the battle, even if he had fixed the wound on his neck.
Severus went down to the kitchen and found absolutely nothing more than tea in his cupboards. His first order of business today would be stocking his pantry. Brewing a pot of tea, he drank a cup as he read the paper, catching up on what was happening in the Muggle, no in his, world. He was distressed by all the turmoil that seemed to be commonplace out here and folded the paper, setting it aside.
Finishing his cup, he rummaged around for the money he had stored away in the cookie jar, for use in just such a life-changing event as the one he'd just been through. He walked down the street to the corner market and picked up some essentials, including more tea, some milk, and bread. "Did you find everything you were looking for, Sir?" a too perky clerk asked him and he nodded curtly. She seemed not to take the hint as she began to go on and on about the glorious weather they were having, despite the call for thunderstorms, and how everyone just seemed to be in an extraordinary good mood.
He tried to be polite, knowing that his former persona would do him no good in this world. "Thank you, have a nice day," he finally said, taking his bags from her hands and beginning the trek home. When he got there, he packed away the food and then went back into the living room, collapsing on the couch. Maybe he needed to sleep again, and with that thought, he trudged upstairs and crawled beneath the covers.
His sleep, this time, was far from dreamless, and he welcomed the visions of him and Lily talking on the banks of the lake, laughing at some joke she had just made. It was a happy memory, one he had suppressed long ago, and he felt a certain amount of peace settle about his soul as he listened to her voice. Be happy, Sev. Thank you for saving Harry. He nodded and she leaned forward and kissed his cheek softly.
When he woke up, there were tears on his cheeks. He hated crying, his father had made certain of that, and so he swiped his cheeks free of the offending tears. Looking at the clock on the wall, he saw that it was past five and he had slept most of the day away. Still exhausted, he ignored his grumbling stomach and stumbled off to the head before washing his hands and then going back to bed.
When he had finally slept enough, he woke and padded downstairs. On his stoop was four days' worth of newspapers, and he marveled at how long he had been out of it. Going into the kitchen, he poured himself a glass of water and fixed himself some bread and jam. The light meal did little to fill the hunger in his belly and he fried up some bacon and eggs. Finally carving a dent in the hunger that gnawed at him, he washed the dishes and then began the long task of getting everything clean. He hadn't used the house in a long time, hadn't been there since he took the Oath with Narcissa.
By the time lunch came around, he had the kitchen clean, and he made a sandwich to eat while he read a chapter from the first book he picked up off the counter. Knowing he had to get some exercise, he ventured outside and walked around the block, taking in how much the neighborhood had changed since he had grown up there. A few older women waved to him as he went along and he waved back.
He was tired by the time he got back to the house and he sat down on the couch, picking up his book and reading more as he gathered his strength again. Getting up, he did some more cleaning, knocking the cobwebs and dust off his book in the living room.
After a light supper, he finished cleaning the ground floor of his home and took stock of the life that stretched before him. Being magical gave him a slightly extended lifespan, so he had to make arrangements for that, live carefully on the money that he had stored in the walls of this place. It wasn't like he could get a job in the Muggle world, he had no credentials, no job history, none of the earmarks of a successful person. Thankfully, the money he had earned during his tenure as a teacher at Hogwarts would last him a number of years.
Still, he had to do something with his life. He couldn't just hole up in this house and rot away. That wasn't who he was. Perhaps there was a way he could continue to do something relating to potions, without getting found out. But to do so, he'd have to purchase an owl. And to do that, he'd have to set foot in Diagon Alley and head to Gringotts. Which led to the very real possibility of him getting found out. It was a chance he was willing to take, though, to keep himself busy.