The last thing Severus ever saw in life was a pair of beautiful, emerald eyes. Not Harry Potter's eyes, not really. Not even Lily Potter's eyes, but Lily Evans' eyes – the eyes of the woman he fell in love with. It was what he had always hoped would be his last sight. But standing here, in the empty, dusty Shrieking Shack, he began to realise that he'd probably never have a last sight.

He had never thought there would be an afterlife. He imagined that after death, there would just be darkness. No, not darkness, nothingness. Ceasing to be. But this, save the snake and the blood, looked just like the world he had left. He didn't feel like the same man, though. His hair was shorter, for one thing. And he felt lighter, younger. He supposed he was.

Perhaps he wasn't even dead. Perhaps he was just comatose. He didn't feel he was ready to die yet, but still, somehow, he felt that he just had.

Severus looked around at the exit leading back onto Hogwarts grounds. He couldn't simply stand here forever. (Well, he probably could, but it would get very boring after a while.) He decided to see if he could leave the place of his death.

Soon enough, he found himself looking up at the eerily empty castle, illuminated by moonlight alone. It seemed he could go about as he pleased. Or was he bound to Hogwarts and the surrounding areas?

He made his way to the castle, but found that his usual walking pace took him there quicker than expected, and surreally, he found himself at the doors in a matter of seconds. This was a very strange experience for the ex-Headmaster. He let himself in, however, and proceeded to the Great Hall.

He was understandably surprised at the amount of people he saw here. There were so many of them, crying and smiling and hugging each other. He supposed they must all be dead, too. What a show they made of it.

"Severus?" said a voice near him, one that Severus knew. He turned to his right, and there sat Remus Lupin and wife Nymphadora. His eyebrows narrowed. This wasn't right. They had just had a child…They were supposed to live.

He approached them, and Lupin, the one who had said his name, stood up and embraced him. Severus awkwardly returned the gesture, and looked over the man's shoulder at Nymphadora. Her cheeks were wet with mascara-tainted tears, eyes red and puffy. She smiled weakly at Severus, sniffing helplessly. She looked her proper age of death, whereas Lupin seemed to him to be about ten years younger. He supposed that was what had happened to himself.

Lupin pulled away, looking surprised, and a mixture of sad and grateful. "What are you doing here? I mean, how did you…?" He paused and shook his head. "Sorry. I shouldn't ask questions like that. It's just…So many people have…It's a little overwhelming."

Severus looked straight at Lupin's eyes. The man was no Lily Evans, but he had always served well in her place when Severus had given up on winning her. "You shouldn't be here," he muttered.

"Neither should you," Lupin replied, looking a little guilty. "Listen, we're sorry we thought you were…well, you know."

"When did you find out I wasn't?" Severus was surprised.

"Dumbledore told us."

"He was here?" Severus' stomach lurched with guilt ten times worse than the guilt on Lupin's face. He had killed that old man, that great wizard, whether he was soon to die or not.

A look of surprise that had nothing to do with the situation came over Lupin's face. "I…someone's calling," he said distantly.

"What?" Severus demanded. This stupid afterlife made no sense.

"It's Harry," said Lupin, looking right past Severus. He blinked, and Lupin was gone.

He and Nymphadora both stared at the spot where he had been seconds before. Nymphadora spoke, fearful. "I…You don't suppose Harry's…?"

"No," said Severus tersely, because for some reason he didn't think Harry could have summoned Lupin in death. He had never much enjoyed chatting with this girl. He could see she loved Lupin very much, but at times he doubted the feeling was really mutual. It angered him that Lupin would marry a woman he didn't really love, but it angered him more the way the man had been pressured into it. Despite his feelings on the subject, when Nymphadora patted the spot on the floor beside her, he took it.

"It isn't fair," she said, looking around at everyone else. She blinked many times in succession and then shuddered, as if she were about to cry again. Severus supposed patting her on the shoulder would be comforting, but he didn't oblige. "Fred, too…Fred Weasley, you know…His poor family."

Severus looked down. He had never felt very fond of the Weasley family, but the thought of Molly Weasley, who loved her husband and children more than anything in the world, mourning for the loss of her son made him feel a little ill. He wondered if anyone would mourn him. Lupin might have, were he still alive, but as it happened he wasn't.

"Severus, I'm sorry you're…" Nymphadora faltered, but of course her meaning was clear. "Well, you shouldn't be. It isn't fair," she repeated, voice cracking. She sniffed, and started to blink furiously again. Severus waited until she recovered, knowing she would keep speaking. "Bellatrix Lestrange killed me, you know. My beloved cousin." She laughed a little, but it was an empty expression and she seemed bitter. "It was supposed to be the other way."

"The Dark Lord killed me," Severus said blankly.

Nymphadora started. "Oh! I'm sorry, you didn't have to say –"

"It doesn't matter." He doesn't want to have this conversation with her. He understood why Voldemort killed him. It was for a stupid reason. No more needed to be said. The only reason he brought his own death up was to leave the topic of death alone altogether.

"Sorry," she said again, whispering so that he can barely hear it. Maybe she thought he couldn't.

Fred Weasley is on one knee at the far wall, talking tenderly to a trembling Colin Creevey. Colin Creevey. Tiny and brave. Nymphadora was right about one thing – this is unfair. But then again, Severus has known his whole life that fairness is a manmade concept which nature doesn't comprehend.

Fred looks up and spies Severus watching him. They lock eyes for a few seconds, then both look away. Severus sympathises with the Weasleys more than he ever has. George has now lost a twin. That seems incredible to him – incredible and horrible.

"Are you glad Lupin is with you?" Severus only realises how uncaring that is until after he says it, but he lets the question hang there until Nymphadora replies.

"No," she says. "I love him. He should be alive. I told him that."

"And what did he say?"

"He said…" Nymphadora's words visibly catch in her throat, and she has to stop and swallow before continuing. "He said he wishes we were both still alive. He said he loves me too…" She trailed off, and then said again, as if to reassure herself, "He loves me, too."

"Yes," Severus said, looking back at the far wall, where Fred was now embracing the sobbing Colin tightly and comfortingly.

"He loves his friends more than he loves me," Nymphadora said suddenly and mournfully. "He loves you more than he loves me! I can tell. He never says it, but I can tell."

Severus is taken aback. He had thought that Nymphadora believed Lupin to be deeply in love with her, and that his hesitation to marry her had been because of a want to protect her, as he always maintained. But here she was, telling Severus that her husband loved him more than he loved her. Slowly and robotically, Severus placed a hand on her far shoulder and left it there. She leaned over and wrapped her arms around his middle, sobbing into his chest. Severus stiffened further. This was not what he was used to, or what he wanted; especially not from Nymphadora.

"What's going on?" asked Lupin from above them. They both looked up, pulling apart. Nymphadora tried to dry her eyes, but she was still sobbing. Severus stood up and Lupin took his place, holding his wife in his arms and letting her cry on his shoulder.

Severus watched them muttering things to each other from behind now, looking somewhat peevish. Their relationship annoyed him. Lupin went on pretending to be in love with her, while Nymphadora went on pretending not to know he wasn't.

Lupin murmured something in her ear. She nodded, sniffling again. He helped her up, and she walked off to hug Fred. Lupin, meanwhile, turned to Severus. "I'm sorry."

"Everyone must stop apologising to me; it means nothing. What on Earth are you sorry for?" Severus snapped.

"For being with her," Lupin said sheepishly, and then looked down at his feet, blushing as if ashamed of his words.

Severus was stunned. "Why?" was all he could think of to say, so he said it, softly and disbelievingly.

"Because I should be with you," said Lupin. Severus could hear the ringing, apologetic truth in the man's voice, and felt closer to him than he had for four years. "I only married her because…you became so distant from me…It's only now I realise that I'm more in love with you than I could ever be with her. But it's too late to change my mind now."

"And what about Black?" Severus didn't pretend to forget about Lupin's past relationship with Sirius Black, even if they barely spoke about it.

"Sirius…is my best friend," said Remus, and his eyes flickered back up to meet Severus'. Severus had to admit that he loved those eyes. Deep amber-brown, with that hint of puppy-dog charm, they were not the eyes he had always hoped would be his last sight. But he loved them just as much as if they had been.

"So what will you do now?" asked Severus. Surely Lupin was not asking for an affair – no, he was not that kind of man. Severus vaguely wondered if sex was possible in the afterlife. A slight warmth and an answering twitch in his loins suggested yes.

"Nothing, I suppose," sighed Lupin.

"Lupin, have you always been so weak-willed? Stupid question. Of course you have." Severus was, of course, remembering the seven years Lupin had spent following Black and Potter around and never telling them he thought they were wrong to tease Severus. "Look. It's not too late. We've bloody well got eternity. And she knows, anyway."

"She…oh," said Lupin.

"Yes, oh."

"Can you get a divorce in heaven?" he joked weakly.

"I hardly think this is heaven. I don't think marriage matters anymore anyway, not here."

"This is…so…everything."

"That's not a sentence. Are you going to speak to her?"

"Oh, Severus, I don't know if I could, yet."

Severus understood why, but he also understood that it annoyed him. "Very well. Take your time." The talking and crying around them was beginning to get to him. It didn't fit the moment he was supposed to be having. He scowled and walked out to escape it.

He stopped in his tracks when he reached to stairs, doors shutting behind him, and found that Albus Dumbledore was standing on the lowest step.

"Hello, Severus," he said politely, smiling and eyes twinkling, the same expression Severus always remembered him having.

"Albus," he said with a nod. "Lupin told me you'd been here."

"I trust that that is not all he told you," Albus said, and Severus almost gaped, but caught himself and remained stony-faced. "It is almost over," he continued, as if he had said nothing before that. "Harry has done well. I think even you would be proud of him."

"I would not count on it. There are some things that never change," Severus replied, watching Albus pass him on the steps and enter the school. Shaking his head, Severus continued down the steps, and a split second later found himself sitting at the lake's edge.

He had barely had had a moment to collect his thoughts when he sensed the presence of someone else beside him. He looked around, and found that Lupin was sitting there, looking at him helplessly. When Severus opened his mouth to speak, Lupin leaned forwards and kissed him.

Severus allowed himself to be pushed lightly back onto the soft grass, and for Lupin to rest his body atop Severus' own. He kissed back, feeling that this sensation had been lost to him for too long, and that his parting with Lupin had been needless. There was nothing to compare with the way he felt when he was around Lupin – besides potions-making and Lily before she stopped being his friend, it was the only thing that made him happy.

Severus ran his hands through Lupin's hair, thick, brown and soft to the touch. like it had been when they were back in their twenties. He supposed that they were, at least physically. Lupin's hands rested on the grass near Severus' head, but he ground his hips against the raven-haired man's, and Severus responded with the same.

Eventually, Lupin tore his lips away, and pulled back down Severus' body to attend to the silver buttons of his robes. He began to undo them with a painful slowness, and despite the wonderful situation, Severus felt compelled to ruin it by mentioning Nymphadora. "Did you speak to her?"

Lupin didn't look up. "What? Oh, yes, of course." Severus' pale chest was now exposed to the night sky. He closed his eyes in satisfaction as he felt Lupin's warm, wet tongue scale the length of his torso, from stomach to collarbone, and then circle his left nipple. Lupin began to suck on his nipple, and Severus moaned, forgetting any complaint he might have had about Nymphadora.

Lupin left that area soon and began to work on undoing more buttons. Severus felt the cool air flush against the spot where Lupin had had his mouth, and he shivered, almost wishing that Lupin was back there but still eagerly anticipating what was to come.

His robes now hung uselessly on his arms, seeming to serve only as a sort of picnic rug. He felt Lupin's teeth graze his hip, and lifted his hips obediently for Lupin to pull his underwear down off his body. The cold night air hit his hard-on, making it seem somewhat less impressive, but Lupin fixed that by closing his warm, welcoming mouth around it.

Severus moaned again and bucked his hips gently. Lupin's shaggy bangs tickled the insides of his thighs, almost making him want to giggle like a schoolgirl. The warm blood pumping excitedly around his groin made up for the cold he felt on his chest and face from the weather.

Outdoor sex was something he'd done before (only with Lupin, of course, because of all his sexual partners only Lupin had been so delightfully adventurous) but somehow this seemed so much better than any of those times. Was it the stars, winking down at him, or the moon, washing him in its tranquil white glow? Or was it simply the knowledge that nothing here could go wrong? The weight of the real world had left his shoulders. No more double life, no more bratty students. Lupin was all that mattered to him right here, right now.

And they had eternity.