AN: Standard disclaimers apply. Harry Potter is all JK Rowlings, OC are mine.

I am not a native speaker, so if you find any grammar or vocabulary mistakes, you might keep them.

Death is not the end [1]

Be mindful of the prayers you send
Pray hard but pray with care
For the tears you are crying now
Are just your answered prayers
The ladders of life that we scale merrily
Move mysteriously around
So that when you think you're climbing up, man
In fact you are climbing down. [2]

PROLOGUE

His restless pacing, billowing his blue cloak like a balloon and letting it falter whenever Ulrich turned all at once, was one of the obvious sign of his inner turmoil. Another one was that the old man twined his whiskers, leaving already four strands of white hair resting on his chest, it was one of his nerving habits.

For once Ulrich hadn't don his hood. It rested neatlessly folded on his shoulders, revealing his long white hair gathered in a ponytail, his jovial, wrinkled features. The most catching sight were his green eyes, more keen then ever. This was a rare occasion and he didn't want to miss the opportunity; he awaited his companions with anxiety, it was an once in a life-time chance.

Announcing his first fellow, fire lit in the alcove to his left, smoke formed on the ground, condensed, the stench of burned flesh emerged, filled the room. Disgust mingled with anticipation in Ulrich's wrinkled features. Astaroth was reliable accurate and the putrid smell was as unbearable as always. Why couldn't Astaroth show his dislike in another fashion, why did he always have to provoke? A demon was a demon after all, he supposed. The smoke got more distinct, a silhouette twice Ulrich's height though thinner could be spotted.

The prickling sensation in his neck told Ulrich that Leander was close as well, the mist in the opposite alcove condensed, spreading a pleasant scent of damped earth and wood, swamping the burnt one to the wall. The old man couldn't deny to be relieved, a feeling of sickness had already taken possession of him, making it necessary to suppress the urge to escape the room. He didn't bother to turn around and greet Leander, he knew him well enough and trusted him; it was Astaroth he needed to keep an eye on.

Freezing cold was the next sensation running towards Ulrich, catching him, a glacially wind blowing into his side informed him that the last one of his fellows was about to join the Highest Court of the Elders. He heard the cracking stones in the last alcove once the freezing cold took possession of it, leaving small fractures behind. Jinneh had appeared. Later Ulrich would have to take care of the cracks, otherwise this alcove would break down. He seriously doubted that a haunted one bothered about something so insignificant like a broken alcove, but it disturbed Ulrich's own sense of order.

Never loosing sight of the first alcove, carefully observing it, while Leander and Jinneh appeared, Ulrich saw the large, dressed in a red cloak, figure stepping out of it. The mighty demon's face was hidden within the hood of his cloak, but the old man could spot small clouds appearing in front of the hood when Astaroth breathed, the foul air spreading by exhaling. Not for the first time Ulrich noticed that he unconsciously hold his own breath as soon as a cloud appeared to prevent inhaling the sickening stench.
'You called.'

Ulrich grimaced upon Astaroth's deep, rough voice filling every corner of the enormous room, never caring to greet. His voice indicated his annoyance for being called on a short note, reflecting even through two mere words. How on earth did the demon achieve such a habit? It wasn't by nature, Ulrich knew enough demons, but none was of Astaroth's calibre.
'Indeed. I called.'

His own voice wasn't as full as Astaroth's, not so far carrying, but it was loud enough for Leander and Jinneh to be heard and he had laid enough authority in it to make Astaroth wait.

Behind him Leander had stepped closer utterly quiet, his warm and refined voice resounded like a song.
'I, Leander, from the realms of elves, have arrived to speak for my kind.'

He didn't need to turn around to tell that Leander had thrown back the hood of his green cape, glaring at Astaroth with open animosity. The demon was powerful and resourceful and once earned his trust, he was beyond being faithful, contradicting him wasn't wise, but the history between the high-elves and the demons was a long one. The current problem they were facing was, that Astaroth hadn't given his trust Ulrich, Leander nor Jinneh but the Greys.

Snorting, Astaroth straightened to his full height, exhaling an enormous cloud of foul air that Ulrich was tempted to hold the sleeve of his cloak up to his nose. He knew Astaroth would see this as an affront and he suppressed the need. Leander wouldn't be this considering.

Once again, the deep, rough voice tinted while Astaroth removed his red hood, revealing a red face dominated by a large mouth filled with sharp, spiky fangs, a long, carrotlike nose pointing to the ceiling, between the felted shoulderlength hair two goatlike horns could be spotted.
'I, Astaroth, from the realms of demons, have arrived to speak for my kind.'

The last, black cloaked and hooded figure arrived, making the other three bracing themselves. She never dared to remove the hood and to reveal herself. The figure didn't have legs and feet, hovered above the ground, the cloak was torn in pieces at the bottom. She didn't need to raise her voice, it rang in everyone minds.
'I, Jinneh, from the realms of the haunted, have arrived to speak for my kind.'

To suit formalities, Ulrich greeted as well
'I, Ulrich, from the realms of mankind, have called you.' Ulrich paused looking intently at his three entirely different fellows. 'Now that we have all gathered here, I shall remind you: for the balance.'

A unison murmur formed upon three lips and one mind: 'For the balance.'

'Of what I have to reveal today, is news concerned to us all if we want to achieve our goal.' Ulrich paused theatrically, he had never been able to resist a dramatic side effect, to boost tension. 'A Grey one has been born, a pure one. And a second Grey one is on the rise.'

Within a second a murmur arose, everyone uttered questions and expectations, instantly a discussion started, Ulrich stepped in, his hand raised.
'Dear fellows, please, one after the other. We won't get far if we continue like this.'

Jinneh hissed and glided backwards, Astaroth looked in disbelief at his fellow, baring his fangs, speaking first.
'We haven't had a true Grey one for the last sixhundred years, Wizard Ulrich.'

'For the last sixhundredseventeen years to be precise my dear fellow Astaroth.' Leander cut in, stressing the 'dear' unnecessarily, earning a wicked groan and exposed fangs from the demon and an approving hiss from the haunted one.

Ulrich didn't care for once, he couldn't hide his mischief, yes this was a rare occasion indeed. And all his fellows were taken aback by the tremendous news, knowing what it meant for all of them.

The haunted one hissed 'We want proof, Ulrich.'

'Sure.' With a flick of Ulrich's hand the backyard wall vanished, enabling the view on endless racks filled with sandglasses. Their ends could not be guessed: not in length, not in height and not in width.

With a second flick of Ulrich's hand, one sandglass came flying along the corridors, no one could tell where it had started. Eagerly three pairs of eyes observed the sandglass and upon noticing the colour, open disappointment mingled in two expectant features, one grumbled in disdain. It was a marbled blue-green one and landed in Ulrich's extended hand.

The haunted one was the first to find her footing back. Echoing inside their heads, her silken voice sent shivers down the spines of her comrades. 'How extraordinary.'

Not being able to hide his pride, enjoying the momentum, Ulrich presented the sandglass filled with grey sand.

Jinneh waved her hand through the sandglass and her fellows looked at her questioningly, waiting for her assessment. She gave her analysis without hesitation. 'Deeply disturbed it is.'

'Dangerous?' Astaroth bared his fangs.

The haunted one moved a second time through the glass and took her time to answer. Just when her companions started to be anxious, she came to a conclusion: 'No, but we should watch it closely. Early training is advisable, sheltering is not an option. Too many obstacles and hardships lie ahead.' She turned slightly to Astaroth. 'Your type. Deliciously wicked, you'd call it.'

Astaroth kneeled and touched the sandglass, it started glowing red. 'We offer unconditional support, protection and knowledge of our way.'

'Is the demon's decision unison?' Leander demanded to know.

'No, but we will take care of the few deviators.' Something in Astaroth's posture and his wide smirk told them that they wouldn't like to be in their shoes.

'We will support it, at all means. We are one, a true Grey one is too rare and precious to be wasted.' Jinneh made the haunted position clear.

There was only one fellow left and Ulrich evaluated Leander, obvious disdain had never left the high-elves features. 'Leander?'

'I don't like the prerequisite, but I have to note it. Full patronage will be granted, but I can't guarantee acceptance. On the one hand we can't close our eyes in front of this one not being a pure one by our standards. On the other hand we can't deny the fact that this is a true Grey one.''

'Once again being picky when you can't afford it, precious High-elf?' Astaroth was amused to the fullest.

'What are you planning, Ulrich?' Leander demanded to know, ignoring Astaroth who never stopped smirking.

Ulrich stepped over to the nearest shelf, standing on a separate place near the entrance. It was filled with sandglasses of all colours containing grey sand and various amounts of black and white sand at the bottom. With care and thought he placed the new sandglass on a separated space in the shelf. It was unique indeed, no other sandglass was marbled and only a very few other contained grey sand only. 'At the moment: Nothing. The Grey ones themselves will take responsibility until the proper education in the wizarding world is finished. When time has come, we'll complete it. We can't risk to disturb the flow of time by intercepting too early, too insecure it is.'

Jinneh and Astaroth gave their approvement for now, they would speak up later.

Ulrich winked his hand a third time and a second sandglass came along the corridor, once again three eye-pairs observed the sandglass eagerly until it was close enough to note that it was blue. There was a fair amount of white and black sand layered by grey sand.

'Now, this a fairly interesting fellow, too.' Stated Astaroth, moving closer, licking briefly his lips and snarling, it was his way of expressing interest. 'Deliciously wicked, too.'

All at once feeling troubled, Ulrich placed the sandglass to the others on the separated rack as if to secure it, not wanting to discuss the matter further. In nothing it differed significantly from the others within this shelf.

Leander eased the suddenly arisen tension by clearing his throat. 'I assume that we'll keep an eye on this one closely until we make a move?'

'Yes, we will. Standard procedure. We shall wait, we have time. Plenty of it.'


[1] Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds; album: Murder Ballads; song: 'Death is not the End'

[2] words by Nick Cave, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds; album: 'No more shall we part'; song: 'Oh my Lord'; 2000


A/N:

Dear readers,

The idea for this fic was born when I learned about Snape's fate in Harry Potter. I didn't like how Rowling finished him off after the life she created for him, it seemed so unfair and unjustified for his character.

In the beginning, I wanted to write only for myself, I started plotting, trying to stick to canon and be IC, using the gaps Rowling had left in her books. I am not completely satisfied, I had to bend Snape's character. Anyway, this is the best I was able to pull of and I am at a dead end, a point were I need feedback, someone who tells me this part sucks and this part reads smoothly.

The fic is rated 'M' from the beginning for use of language, explicit graphic violence and sex content in later chapters, if you are offended by this kind of stuff, I recommend you not to read any further – and please beware of evil plotting from my side.

I considered Nick Cave being the visual incarnation of Snape – ignore his nose -, and I do have problems with Alan Rickman in this role – no offence, really, Rickman is an actor, while Cave is a songwriter and singer.

As a reminiscence, I'll have Nick Cave's songtitles as chaptertitles and as a title for the whole story.

Anyway, I hope you do enjoy reading.

Mara-Amber