AN: Chances are, there are details wrong. Chances are, there are some things that don't make sense. Chances are, some rough spots exist. There's a good possibility it isn't even any good. It's just a one-shot, though, an idea I couldn't get out of my mind since the "Poor Severus" comment made by Dumbledore during the chapter in Deathly Hallows entitled "King's Cross." The comment sort of cemented in my mind that Dumbledore had to have had a bit of contact with the dead as they moved on.

Waking up from death was never a thought that had crossed Severus Snape's mind. Sure, the very real threat of death tomorrow, even today, existed, but what came after death had never been something Severus pondered over. Death had no importance when each and every day anymore was spent lying and deceiving, yet... here death settled. If Severus had ever thought of death, he certainly never would have imagined the truth.

But waking from death would surely mean... those green eyes, etched onto the back of his own eyelids... those green eyes belonging to-- it was only then that Severus realized that fingernails were digging into his hands balled into fists. No, those weren't the green eyes he wished to see. And so, quite suddenly, he opened his own black eyes so that he would no longer have to see the green.

Seeing a white sea of nothingness was hardly better than the eyes of a boy who would surely be staring down the same empty walls soon enough. So this is death, was the man's initial reaction, just as spotless as a blank page and just as nearly depressing. At least death didn't hurt as much as a blank page that wanted a letter written out upon it did. Letters had to be painstakingly crafted to ensure that the words were clear and couldn't be interpreted in quite the wrong light, he had discovered early on in his life.

The man supposed that he ought to get up from where he was now sitting -- but what was one to do in death? Surely there had to be something!

And that something was fulfilled by way of one Albus Dumbledore.

Severus could hardly believe his eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be dead?"

"Are you not dead yourself?" asked the man who had walked into the white out of nowhere.

"I... I suppose that I must be," said Severus. More to himself, he continued, "Or perhaps this is just some sort of hallucination and perhaps I'm not dead... but that would be quite impossible, all things considered."

Albus took a moment to regard the younger man, then admitted, "I'm not sure that I meant to see you here so soon."

Broken from a quiet musing on hallucinations, Severus snapped his head up to Albus. A moment later, Severus stood and merely asked, "Is that the confirmation of my own death, then?"

"Well, yes."

"And 'so soon'? Did you intend to bring upon my death, then?" A perplexed look briefly crossed Severus's face. The look left so quickly, though, that Albus supposed that there may have been no question in Severus's mind about the matter once the words had occurred to him.

Albus narrowed his eyes slightly. "Dear Severus, do you believe that, as I stand here, I know of how you died?"

"I..." Severus trailed off to nothing. After a moment, he started again, "The Dark Lord wished me dead after I told him that I know nothing about some Elder Wand. That snake of his attacked me upon command."

"Well, I suppose that course of action should have been also been an expected option."

"Expected? Over some legendary wand that he apparently stole out of your grave? How in the hell was I supposed to know about a fairy-tale wand?"

While Severus glared at a white wall far away, Albus inhaled slightly. "So, you were aware of the story of the Deathly Hallows?"

"Aware?" he scoffed and shook his head. "I was well aware. My mother shouted at me every single time I showed any interest in an impervious Invisibility Cloak, like the one in that tale. 'Stop living in those stories, Severus! Magic is no fix-all!' she would say. And I suppose, though I rather not admit it, that she was perhaps right about something."

"And so you never believed that these objects existed?"

"Are you trying to suggest to me that these... Hallows... that they truly are, well... real?"

Albus nodded.

"So, all these months I've heard the Dark Lord talking quite enthusiastically about this Elder Wand... he was going after something that actually existed?"

Again, Albus nodded.

Things concerning this wand started to make sense in Severus's head. "And, so, now... the Dark Lord is truly in power of this wand? He can truly kill Harry Potter, then?"

"Ah, well," Albus smiled sadly at the things Severus had worked out, "that is what it seems to be."

An odd look, some mixture of anger and helplessness, played upon Severus's face. "The boy's certain death is now my fault."

"It's interesting that you would be willing to take the blame, but I'm not sure if his death is certain," admitted Albus. "Harry will have to walk into death willingly, but that doesn't mean he will have to die."

"You--!" Severus stopped short. "You told me that he would have to die!"

"Would you rather have carried that burden with yourself in death, Severus?"

He glared at the man looking at him benignly. "And how, Albus, do you expect the child to live?"

"I suppose you know that Voldemort used Harry's blood to concoct that body for himself, correct?"

"Yes."

"Well, as long as that connection survives, so does Harry."

"How utterly convenient."

Albus shrugged slightly. "That little oversight gives Harry a chance to go back. He may still die, but I believe him competent in dueling. Of course, I'm sure there are other ways that don't involve wands... though this wouldn't do for Tom Riddle."

A look of horror struck Severus's face. "You don't believe that he can out-duel the Dark Lord, do you?"

"It's certainly possible."

"If that's what you believe..."

"It is, provided he knows that he must walk into death willingly."

"I've taken care of that, Albus."

"Oh?" The old face looked pleased. "Oh, that's good! May I inquire as to how you managed such a feat?"

"If the boy weren't so willing to walk into death-traps, I'm not sure that I could have relayed the message," Severus said. "Although, I don't believe I would have had to leave the child a vial of memories if your Minerva McGonagall wouldn't have been in the way when I tried to get the boy earlier in the night."

"So that would explain the reason as to why Harry had used the Pensieve."

Severus looked confused at this remark. "How did you...?"

"How did I know? Did you ever think to wonder about why my own portrait seemed a bit more, ah, sentient than others?"

"No. No, I didn't question."

"Should you have lived, you would have discovered a portrait of myself without such brilliant plans."

There was a pause between the two men. Albus spoke first, "You ought to move on now, Severus. There's not much to be gained by sticking around here."

"But how do you suppose I leave?"

"I cannot speak even for myself yet, but, I've been here for a while... there's a place you call home, I'm sure. If you wish to go there, you will. You needn't worry about anything in your mortal life now."