Title: Of What Sweet Rest

Author: Kitty Hazard

Rating: Mature

Pairing: SS/HP

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Anything or anyone you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling and associated publishers and distributers. I just like to play in other peoples sandboxes for a little while. No profit is being made from this work or any other works I have published.

Authors Notes: Due to popular demand, I am writing this as a continuation of Full of Grace. I have attempted to work on this particular piece for a very long time but always found myself turning out rubbish instead of the story I really wanted to tell. So many of my readers have asked me for a sequel and I couldn't just give them some half-assed, uninspired "Just kidding, Snape's alive! How convenient! …and then they have sex," fic that I truly didn't think should be allowed to see the light of day. So I am hoping that this story doesn't disappoint too much, considering that anticipation and imagination can never compare to the actual thing. I hope so much that you all like this and that I have done justice to my readers.

"And then there stole into my fancy, like a rich musical note, the thought of what sweet rest there must be in the grave." –Edgar Allen Poe

Of What Sweet Rest

By Kitty Hazard

Everything was completely out of control. This night was worse than Harry had ever thought possible, even in his darkest moments. Time and again, Harry was forced to watch as people he knew, people he cared for, were hurt or killed and yet nothing could have prepared him for The Battle for Hogwarts. Harry was completely overwhelmed, the battle raging while he tried to do the only things that would ensure that The Dark Lord died for good this time despite the resistance fighters who desperately needed help.

The dead and dying were littered throughout the once sacred halls of Hogwarts and Death Eaters were swarming through the shattered wards like a plague and despite everything, Harry – in that moment – only wanted to get to Severus, just for a moment, just wanted to see him before Harry faced his worst nightmare and confronted Voldemort for their big showdown – their last showdown.

Harry had tried so very hard to reach Snape before everything went to hell, tried to show him that he remembered his promise, remembered everything about that night in the Forest of Dean, that Harry so wanted to continue their conversation, just wanted a single minute to breathe each other in before resuming their roles, but he hadn't gotten there in time. Things had gone from zero to one hundred in the blink of an eye and even though much more important and world-altering events were taking place, Harry was ridiculous and selfish and just wanted one moment where he could stand with the man who saved him from not only drowning in a frozen pond, but from himself.

Harry had been at the end of his rope, hopelessly wandering the countryside with Hermione while Ron had gone off with no chance of finding them again even if he had wanted to and certainly no closer to destroying the singular Horcrux they did have, not to mention the ones that they had no clue where to start looking for, and without Snape, he doesn't know how much longer he would have lasted under the strain. That one fragment of time had solidified his resolve, helped him cope with the dark thoughts and feelings that were consuming him and gave him a taste of what could be waiting for him at the end of this painful road.

Instead of sneaking in and out of the castle, with any luck after a nice visit with his old professor and with one less Horcrux lying around, everything went to hell and the final battle was on him. People were fighting for their lives, for the future of the Wizarding World, for the triumph of good over evil and Harry was stuck in a tunnel, hiding like a coward while Voldemort's forces stormed the castle and wrought death and destruction like nothing Harry had ever seen. There was nothing to prepare him for what was happening and so Harry shut down his heart and focused on ridding the world of Voldemort's Horcruxes.

Having thought himself safe in his self-inflicted numbness, he had no warning as his emotions slammed back into him with a vengeance, as if to punish him for their brief absence. Snape's voice, begging Voldemort to be allowed to find him, seemed to wrench something loose in him and the world seemed to both slow to a crawl and speed up to the point where Harry couldn't keep up with the horrific events progressing in front of him. His throat was so tight he doubted that he could have spoken even if he had to, his stomach was knotted and writhing with hopelessness and overwhelming dread. He couldn't seem to draw proper breath and his body shook with impotence and fear. Everything in him was rebelling against his inaction and he watched in agony and grief as a terrible scream rent the air while Nagini followed her master's orders.

"Kill" Voldemort had said, and the great snake's cage flew at Snape. The snake's fangs pierced his neck as he failed to push the enchanted cage off himself. His knees gave way and he fell to the filthy floor as Voldemort walked away.

"I regret it," he said coldly but there was no remorse or sadness in him. He left the shack to take charge with a wand that he believed would now do his full bidding. He pointed the wand at the starry cage holding Nagini, which drifted upward, off Snape, who fell sideways onto the floor, blood gushing from the wounds in his neck. Voldemort swept from the room without a backwards glance, and the great serpent floated after him in its huge protective cage.

Time stopped as Harry knelt next to Snape, unknowing how he even made it from the tunnel to where Severus was lying, watching his last thoughts seep out of his eyes and mouth, hearing his wrecked voice begging Harry to take them. Hermione shoved an empty vial into his hands and he somehow managed not to tip it out over his robes as his hands shook desperately. Harry passed the vial back, about to beg Hermione to give him the last of their Dittany – to beg her to help him save Severus – when Snape grabbed his robes and dragged Harry down so that they were eye to eye. Startled and frantic, all Harry could do was comply.

"Look…at…me," he whispered, the hands holding Harry's robes shifting and grasping both sides of Harry's face despite the wetness flowing down them.

Harry lifted his eyes from the shredded mess of Snape's throat and met his eyes. It was completely devastating. Silent sobs wracked Harry's chest and he felt his grip on reality slip away from him as the fire in the back gaze started to dim.

Wanting to shake Snape as hard as he could to get him to hold on – though for what, Harry wasn't exactly sure – but he was afraid of making the uncontrolled bleeding worse than it already was. Harry pressed his free hand onto the wound hard, suddenly realizing that if Snape's hands were clawing into his face, nothing was staunching the blood flow, a shuddering wail escaping him as he felt the ruined flesh for the first time. It was much worse than it looked, and it looked horrific.

Snape was dying. A sad smile lifting one side of his mouth as though in apology, Harry watched his lover's eyes as the grip on his face started to slacken and despite his resolve not to, Harry used the grip on Snape's neck to rattle him as best he could.

"No," Harry whimpered, trying to control his shaking to better hold what was left of Snape's blood inside his leaking neck. "No, no. You can't. You have to stay."

"Harry," Hermione whispered, curling her hand around his shoulder firmly, as if to pull him. "Come away."

"No! What is wrong with you? He isn't – he's going to… No." Harry snarled, jerking violently away from Hermione's grasp.

Harry firmed up his grip on Snape's neck, feeling the thready pulse weaken alarmingly further and watching the obsidian eyes Harry still clung to losing what was left of their life. Another whimper escaped Harry without him even knowing it was coming.

Something was clambering around on the wooden floors near them, probably a herd of rodents, and Harry heard a sharp intake of breath from Hermione but Harry couldn't be bothered to look until something sharp dug into the hand Harry was still using to hold pressure on Severus' neck. He yelped, his bloody hand coming up to swat at whatever it was until a soft trill made him pause.

Leaning over the nightmarish wound and letting shimmering tears float down onto the torn chaos of broken skin and pulsing vasculature was Fawkes. Snape's eyes had closed while Harry had been looking away and Harry scrambled to place his hand on the other side of Snape's neck and almost broke down when he felt a light pulse tickling the tips of his fingers. Harry's eyes were flitting around Severus' face, waiting for some sign of life while Fawkes continued to hold vigil over the slowly healing gashes. Harry felt rather like he might faint with relief.

Just as Harry was beginning to feel a bit steadier, a high, cold voice spoke so close to them that Harry jumped to his feet, thinking that Voldemort had reentered the room.

Voldemort's voice reverberated from the walls and floor, and Harry realized that he was talking to Hogwarts and to all the surrounding area, that the residents of Hogsmeade and all those still fighting in the castle would hear him as clearly as if he stood beside them, his breath on the back of their necks, a deathblow away.

"You have fought," said the high, cold voice, "valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery.

"Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste.

"Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately.

"You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured.

"I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

Both Ron and Hermione shook their heads frantically, looking at Harry.

He smiled sadly at his friends and then took a moment to gaze at the prone figure occupying the blood-stained floor in front of him and wished, just for a moment, that they had more time. For that brief minute, Harry imagined what could have been had things not worked out the way that they had. Imagined Snape's arms around in the freezing forest, pressed against the tree and having never felt warmer. It wasn't to happen again, he wasn't to even see Snape's eyes without impending death reflecting in them one last time even though the man was just feet from him. He was still unconscious and Harry will never get to tell him all the things he had been saving up inside himself until they saw each other again. Harry would have to go without ever speaking a word of it. Without ever finishing what they had promised to finish.

Straightening his spine, Harry explained briefly to a completely befuddled Ron and Hermione as they all started picking their way back towards the tunnel they had come. He didn't bother to calm the shaking in his hands as he made his way to the Headmaster's office to borrow a Pensive.

A/N: Hello everyone! I am so thrilled to give this sequel to you all after so long. I am so excited to hear your thoughts about this story, even though it's already finished (but I can certainly take some input from all of you and make some changes). Please just take a minute to drop me a review and let me know what you think. I love you all so much and pray that you all haven't given up on me. :-)