NOTE: THIS IS A SPOILER FOR DEATHLY HALLOWS. DON'T READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE BOOK!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter.
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A figure emerged from the shadows of the Forbidden Forest, a black cloak draped over the shoulders. The only thing that made the figure stand out from the darkness of the night sky was the little white satchel in its arms. The figure held the bag in dear life, if it fell to the ground the figure's existence would cease to be. In some sense, that was the case. The only sound the was heard as the gentle foot steps and the rushing sound of wind.
The figure reached it's destination and raised a hand, covered by a solid black glove, and pushed forward on the door in front of it. The figure stood unmoving when the door fell off it's hinges and to the ancient floor below, the dust casting upwards. The dust of years passed filled the figure's lunges, causing a fit of coughs and hacks to fill the old house that was known to the world as the Shrieking Shack.
"Didn't bother to have someone clean this place?" a voice of a female came from the hood. The woman waved her hand in front of her cloaked mouth, trying to send off the remaining dust.
The woman walked on top of the fallen door, creaking as she went. She jumped slightly on the years of poor care floor, creaking as it's door brethren. The windows were grim and covered in boards of wood or dust or whatever remaining parts of an creature that lived here previously. Furniture, from chairs, sofas, tables and even a bust of a stature were either covered in thick dust or a sheet.
A lump of black decorated the floor, spurting crimson liquid near the top. It was a body. Others might cringe at the sight of a newly fresh dead corpse; the woman didn't show any signs of discomfort. It seem like the man belong to this over run house, everything dead inside besides the insects and small rodents that took residence here. But, as the woman walked towards the fallen figure, she saw or found neither one.
The woman slump to her knees when she was close enough to the man. She turn the body over, finally cringing at the sight of the almost torn away neck. Long and lack black hair framed the pale, almost pearly, white face. She wasn't sure if it was from natural reasons for the man to have ghostly white face or by the blood lost. If it wasn't for the open eyes, she was sure this man was asleep. She reached forward and caressed the man's forehead like a lover would do to soother their partner. The woman stopped and let her hand turn limp and fall off the cold body.
There was only a brief silence as the eyes under the hood looked down at the figure below her. She finally spoke, her voice a strange accent from the country around her, "Things I do for old friends." she breathed, her voice sounding tired.
The woman put down her satchel in between the man and herself. Reaching in, she pulled out two silver vials and what appeared to be a golden ring. She reached for the vial with Latin wording on it, and brought it towards her hood. The top disappear for a minute only to be brought back down, the topper gone. The woman turn her head away from the man and spat out the waxy topper. It rolled off, collecting dust, and hid itself under a chair.
The open vial in her hand contains a white, with a blue hue, liquid inside. With her free hand, she craned the head of the man towards her. Parting his cold lips open with the edge of the vial, the woman practically had to force it down his throat, only a few tinkles escaped from the corners of the mouth. She watched as the large wound in the side of the neck heal, leaving no evidence that it was ever there.
She did the same to the first vial to the other one, this time filled with burning red liquid. It looked like it held burning flames in the vial. A ruby and golden phoenix, it's wings spread out wide, was used as a topper as the first one had only a plain old topper. She spat out this fancier topper into her gloved hand and place it back into her bag. The woman open the man's mouth wider, not wanting to spill the liquid like the first one. She tipped the vial into the man's mouth, the red liquid almost sending out a song-like tune as it went down the man's throat.
The woman jumped in her spot as she heard rasped breaths and coughing. She seemed in joy as she saw life come back into the ebony eyes. The eyes looked around wildly, looking around the room, the owner trying to locate where he was. The coughing and hacking cut off as the eyes rested on the woman, trying to look into her hood to see her face.
"Who-?" his cracked voice tried to sound before he was cut off.
The sound of foot steps were heard from the paper thing walls. The woman looked over her shoulder, her shoulders high in fear. She saw the tops of two heads from the blurry window to her right. The woman quickly whipped her head around and stared back into the man's face. She threw her empty silver vials in her bag, hanging it over her shoulders. Reaching down, she took the wrist of the man. With her free hand, she positioned the golden ring over his ring finger.
"Trust me," she breathed before slipping the ring onto his finger. When the ring nestle in it's place, it made the pair leave the Shrieking Shack in a blur of black.
Just as the two disappear, two more forms appeared at the door way. Much like the earlier pair, it was a man and woman. A tall man stepped over the door, his black and unkempt hair framed his face with a pair of glasses balancing on his nose. A woman followed after him, her hair fizzy and brown. They looked no older then eighteen but their faces were pale and grim. They both looked over the house, startled to find it empty.
The woman reached forward and laid a hand on the shoulder of the man in front of her. He stiffed, startled by her hand. He finally let his shoulders slack and fall down.
"We have to go, Harry," she said, almost a whisper, "The others could be worried."
Harry shook his head, not listening to his friend's words. "No, Hermione, we came here to retrieve Snape's body and…and found nothing!" he screamed in rage, slamming his closed fist against the wall behind him.
Hermione's grip tighten around Harry's shoulder, trying to sooth the ragging beast in her friend. "I…I know that you want his body to rest but you have to take in account that maybe someone else got his body before us. Harry, it's been nearly a day since h-he died," her voice became softer then before, "Anyone else from the Order has taken his body. We'll go search for it, if anyone else has taken it, when we get rest." she tried to reason with him.
He seemed to understand. His green eyes hover where the spot where the body of Severus Snape once laid. He forced his eyes closed, not wanting to see bloody spot anymore. Harry couldn't raise his wand and remove the blood not now, or ever. He sighed and turn back to Hermione.
"Come on, we need to see the others." he half order, leading the way out of the Shrieking Shack, his friend behind him.
Was it so hard to bury the body of a hero of the war?
Author's Notes: Just something I want to do. I don't know if I will continue the story, just giving it a test. If you want to see more, just leave a review and tell me what you think should happen next.