Untouchable

He stood, leering, at the frightened first-years before him. They had all heard about the horrible Professor Snape and how he terrified everyone who wasn't a Slytherin.

They cowered behind their cauldrons, or, better yet, their friends. One, a pathetic slip of a girl with straggly black hair, was so terrified that when he looked her in the eye, she squeaked and fell off of her stool.

He sneered. Oh, how the standards had fallen. The mighty Gryffindor courage was all but gone in these children. The intelligence of the Ravenclaw had fallen, the loyalty of the Hufflepuff dead. All because the savior of the wizarding world had disappeared.

Oh, yes, how he felt the irony. The wizarding world was falling apart just because the defeater of Voldemort, the man who captured more Deatheaters than any wizard on record, the Boy-who-Lived, Harry Potter, was no where to be found.

He had defeated Voldemort, been carried away from the battle and disappeared right from their hands.

There had been many speculations as where the powerful wizard had gone. The romantic writers of Witch Weekly theorized that Harry had taken his fiancé, Ginny Weasley, married her and settled down somewhere in a sunny island. The hopeful thought he had gone to recuperate from the battle by way of vacation.

The realistic, like he himself, knew that he had joined his parents, Godfather and many of his friends in the eternal sleep of death.

Not suicide, he knew Potter was too strong simply to give up. He also knew the lines of Trelawany's prophecy well.

'Neither can live while the other survives.'

It was very clear, to him. Albus Dumbledore knew that too of course. There was very little one could get past the late Albus Dumbledore. Yes, he had died too. Long before the final battle. Voldemort had attacked the school, not to get to Potter, but to kill his mentor. He had succeeded by holding a first-year captive and luring Albus out by threatening to kill her. Voldemort knew that Albus was a bleeding heart, he knew he would fall for this trick; he knew the old wizards weakness.

He lured the old man out and literally had his Deatheaters beat him to death. His power was undeniable, however, his body was old and frail. He died of blood loss.

How Snape felt the irony. The greatest wizard in a millennia was killed by muggle means.

Albus knew that, in order to kill Voldemort, Harry had to die at the same time, or before. Because they couldn't survive at the same time, neither could be killed by anyone else. But, if the one died, the other would be vulnerable to death by anyone's hand, providing they were skilled enough to kill them.

The way Voldemort was defeated was rather genius. Rather Slytherin-like, actually, which surprised Snape to no end. Hermione Weasley, nee Granger, had told him that the Sorting Hat had tried to put Gryffindor-born Potter in Slytherin. He couldn't imagine Harry Potter being in Slytherin, it was preposterous. His magical heritage was rooted in the Gryffindor house.

To kill Voldemort, according to Potter's accomplices, he had faced him in a wizard's duel, without any seconds. The battle was hard and quick. Their wands being useless, they used more traditional weapons. Swords, axes, daggers, staffs… The list of weapons went on. Harry may have been younger and faster, but he lacked Voldemort's experience. Voldemort had taken many a life by killing them with weaponry. He enjoyed the goriness of the death. Just as he enjoyed watching Harry die of a stomach wound.

The blood from the wound seeped through his body, causing almost all of his major organs to collapse. Potter's accomplices, under every invisibility charm that worked as well as an invisibility cloak, watched for a moment as Voldemort cackled in his infamous high-pitched cackle. Then they made their presence known. They made their presence known by shooting off as many killing curses as they could.

Voldemort's death was an ugly one. He didn't die as a usual person would. Draco Malfoy said it was because he was such a drama queen.

When the killing curses hit his body it was lifted up into the air in a graceful arc. When he landed, his body went into a fit, his limbs lashing out. His skin changed from its usual pale colour to a burnt black, his eyes sunk back into their sockets and shriveled up. His skin wrinkled, decayed and faded into nothing. His muscles soon followed suit. Soon all that was left was a grotesque skeleton, in a black robe.

None of Potter's accomplices saw this rapid decomposition. They were knelt by his body, trying as fast as they could to save him.

Hermione Weasley was using her mix of muggle and wizarding knowledge to suss out the quickest way to save him. Ron trying to re-inflate his lungs, and other major organs.

Most surprising of all was Draco Malfoy, who was pouring potions over his larger wounds to close them. He had decided to not follow his father's footsteps, and had gone to Albus for support, who had welcomed him with open arms.

Not everyone felt the same however. Ron Weasley had still not got over his animosity towards the pale boy. He tolerated him, but never truly trusted him.

Potter, on the other hand, had learned to trust him, although somewhat grudgingly. However, they had become companions. Not friends, there was too much history between them for such a thing. They had come to what he understood to be a truce.

Their attempts, as far as he knew, were not totally in vain. They had managed to resuscitate him. They healed almost all of him major wounds. The only one they couldn't heal was the one his heart. He would never truly recover from his death, nor would he ever recover from his parents, Godfather's and friends death.

However, as soon as they had exited the building, Potter had disappeared. One minute, they were carrying him, the next their hands were empty.

He had simply gone, without any explanation. He was too weak to have apparated, and he didn't have a portkey. Hermione and Ron Weasley had searched for months for any trace of him. Nothing had ever been found. Aurors had returned to the scene of Volemort's defeat. The bones were still there, but all signs of Potter had disappeared. His blood had been cleaned from the ground. It was one of the greatest mysteries of the wizarding world.

It made him horribly angry. How dare that Potter brat disappear at such a time when the Wizarding world needed him most of all! Of course, they had needed him to kill Voldemort, but that was by the by. They needed him to prove that he was better than Lord Voldemort. They needed him to prove he was the saviour of the Wizarding world, and not just another boy.

It wasn't fair, he mused, that the boy had such a weight placed on his shoulders. But then, nothing in life truly was fair. In order to survive, you have to be untouchable. You have to be cold and callous if you want to survive. Harry Potter never understood that. He lived with his heart on his sleeve, even after learning Occlumency. He was easily touched by other people's plights. It was one of his downfalls, but also one of his greatest traits.

He was untouchable, not cold-hearted or evil, whatever the students of Hogwarts thought. He loved. He felt pain, guilt and happiness. But he understood the need to hide those feelings behind a mask, which was something no Gryffindor could ever master.

To survive, he lamented, you had to be untouchable.

Well, that's all folks! You wouldn't believe how long this took to write! I started it in March I think! Still, I'm rather proud of it. Please review and tell me what you thought of Professor Snape. I was going for cannon.

xx

Dannie