An idea of how Severus Snape might have survived the final battle and been given a chance to take down Voldemort himself.

He lay face down, listening to the silence.

He was weightless, fearless, in an effortless state of being. The pain and regret usually so familiar to him were now absent. Without them, he was empty, lost.

The action of his hand jerking to find his wand – one ingrained into his subconscious from years of trusting nobody – reminded him that he had hands. The failure of said action to result in a wand being procured told him that he was defenceless and with this knowledge he was no longer fearless, though he could not remember what exactly he had to fear.

As if his fear had triggered some sort of switch, his wand appeared beside him where he was sure it had not been before. He reached for it and observed his perfect milky forearm as he did. For some reason, he got the sense that something was missing, although he could not remember what and knew that he certainly did not mourn its loss.

On further inspection he found himself to be completely naked, with nothing, in a vast expanse of nothing, besides of course the wand which had just appeared. His first instinct in response to this was that he must cover himself up, hide his scars. This told him that he had scars, although looking down he saw none. On command, a set of robes appeared and he pulled them on, glad to cover up whether he had scars or not.

Looking around, he noticed things beginning to assemble from nothing. He was on a hilltop, country fields falling away at either side of him. It was a scene he thought he recognised from somewhere, but he could not quite place it.

Finally, he realised what was missing from his arm. The dark mark. It was gone. This, if nothing else, made him realise that he must be dead. Nothing but death could free him from that.

Now he remembered dying, though in a detached way that held nothing of the pain of the actual event. Pulling back his sleeve, he marvelled again at his clear forearm. He could not quite believe that the constant reminder of his biggest mistake had been erased. Could this mean that he had earnt redemption?

'It is gone.'

Severus spun around. Albus Dumbledore stood behind him, watching him intently.

'Severus.' He reached out a hand, whole, white and undamaged again. 'You are free. From both your masters.'

There was water on his face and he became aware of the fact that he was crying. It registered that this should be something he wished to hide, but for some reason, he did not. It also registered that he should now feel fear, standing in front of a man he had killed and waiting for judgement, but instead he felt … safe.

'I'm dead.' He said with certainty, knowing that it was true.

'Are you?' Dumbledore replied, a twinkle in his eyes.

'Yes.' Severus told him, feeling oddly like a schoolboy again. 'I'm dead. I died. I can remember dying.'

'Then perhaps you are.' Dumbledore allowed, though Severus got the sense that he did not think so at all.

'If I am not dead, then where are we?' He asked carefully, trying to find a question that would force the old man to explain.

'Why, I do not know. Where do you think we are?' Was the infuriating answer given.

Severus looked around again and the memory slotted in to place. In the daylight and free of lightening it was different, but deep inside he could feel that it was the same place.

'This is where you met me that night, when I begged you to save Lily's life. I told you that I would do anything.' He said, remembering her as he did so and wondering how he ever could have forgotten.

At this Dumbledore looked around himself and nodded.

'Yes, I suppose it is. A promise you fulfilled, don't you think?'

'I could not save Lily. But yes, in a manner of speaking. Why are we here?'

'I could not be completely certain, but I would guess that it is because you made a choice here. A choice which determined the course of your life when you were at a crossroads. Now you must choose again, so we are here again.'

'What must I choose?' Severus asked, Dumbledore's answers only bringing him more questions.

'Life, of course. Life or death. The only real choice in the end.'

'But that's not how it works. You don't just choose to live or die. Why do I have to?'

'That, Severus, is the question. Can you not guess the answer?'

'I would assume that you have done something to me. After all, you are supposedly the greatest wizard of our time.' Snape drawled sarcastically, Dumbledore's cryptic answers breaking through the haze of tranquillity that had settled over him in this place to reach his usual temper. 'I imagine resurrection is just a casual hobby for you.'

'I did have a hand in it, I confess, though certainly not the one you might expect.' Dumbledore replied, looking strangely disappointed that Severus had not been able to guess what it was that was holding him here.

Ignoring the way that Dumbledore could have achieved this for a moment, Severus asked a more pressing question.

'You could have brought yourself back. Why would you waste that chance on me?'

'Waste, Severus? I assure you I have wasted nothing. But in any case, I doubt very much that I could have given this chance to anyone else, even if I had wanted to.

'Think, my boy. Which of my actions have you never understood? It will come to you, in time.'

'Harry.' The name sprang unbidden to his lips, though he couldn't seem to remember who it belonged to. 'Is Harry alive?'

For the first time, shock registered on Dumbledore's face, but he hid it quickly.

'Harry, Severus, not Potter?' He asked, his eyes twinkling as ever.

The name Potter sparked forth a burst of inexplicable anger in Severus and when he prodded at that anger it quickly explained itself. Flashes of James Potter swept through his mind until suddenly the images stopped. In their place, he saw a pair of eyes. Bright green eyes, watching him as he died. Watching with … sadness?... as a man he must hate almost as much as he hated Voldemort died. Severus knew for a certainty that James Potter would not have been sad to see him die. His eyes would have been cold, steely blue.

'Harry.' He said firmly, knowing now, for perhaps the first time ever, who that really was.

'He is, he will be, he was.' Dumbledore replied vaguely, seemingly uninterested in that topic.

'I never understood how you could let Harry die.' Severus said, feeling as though he had to justify himself. He was irritated that he couldn't seem to understand what Dumbledore was trying to tell him, but the fog in his mind was not giving him any answers.

In his frustration, his hand clenched around his wand as though it could give him the answers he desired. He traced his fingers over its familiar smooth ebony handle, his… That was it! His scowl melted away and he looked down in astonishment. For the first time in over three years, he was holding his own wand.

It was an evening in February and the sky outside dark and stormy. He was standing in the headmaster's office with Albus Dumbledore, each of them considering his ever darkening mark. There seemed to be no doubt now that the Dark Lord would return to power within the year and with Potter in the Triwizard tournament it was proving harder and harder to protect or prepare him for the challenges to come.

Dumbledore heaved a sigh, tearing his gaze from the rolling storm clouds outside which he had been focusing on for the past several minutes as he thought. He fixed his eyes instead on Severus's face, none of his usual bumbling persona present in his sharp stare.

'I'm afraid I will have to ask far too much of you in the war to come, Severus. I trust you realise that I will never request more than what I feel is absolutely essential for the light to prevail, though it may be hard to remember it at times.'

When the headmaster's pause dragged on, Severus assumed that he was expected to give some reply, so he nodded briefly.

'Yes, I am prepared.' He said, although they both knew that preparation for such an uncertain future was impossible. What he was truly prepared for – to sacrifice his life – went unsaid, but hung heavy in the air between them none-the-less.

'Then I must begin my requests now.'

Severus snorted at this. They both knew that the headmaster's requests had begun years ago. Dumbledore had the grace to flinch at his unfortunate choice of words but pushed forward despite it. What he had to ask would not grow any easier or more reasonable with time.

'I must ask you to give me your wand.'

Severus stiffened immediately and gave a brief shake of his head. 'Headmaster I –'

Asking a wizard to give up his wand was tantamount to telling him to stop breathing. Without the easy access to his magic, he would be lost. Severus's stoic mask shattered and he struggled to breathe at the thought, though deep inside he knew that the headmaster could not intend to leave him defenceless.

'You know I would not ask this of you if I did not think it essential. You must use this wand instead. It will serve you well. I will ensure that your own is kept safe.'

Seeing the alternative wand was enough for Snape to gain control of himself again, though he was still filled with despair at the prospect. With a different wand, there was no telling how well each of his spells would act. If one were to fail in a crucial moment it could be the end of Severus Snape.

For a moment he held out, searching desperately for a reason to refuse, but Dumbledore would hardly ask this if it there was an alternative. Going against all of his instincts, he withdrew his wand and placed it carefully on the desk. He watched with a feeling of emptiness as the headmaster picked it up again and stowed it in his robe, undoubtedly to be hidden somewhere he would never find it as soon as he left the room.

Snape gazed longingly for a moment longer after his own wand but eventually had to pick up the new one he had been given. Magic immediately rushed to his fingertips and from that he knew that it would at least work for him. Casting a few simple spells, the results appeared adequate and his terror dissolved into mild dissatisfaction.

He was surprised to find as the year progressed that this strange wand performed well for him. It was slightly more swishy than his own and prone to performing feats at times seemingly based more on his needs than intentions, but overall he had very few complaints. In the grand scheme of things, it cost him little to comply with this one of the headmasters wishes.

Severus shook his head in astonishment, wondering how he ever could have forgotten that evening.

'The wand you insisted I use rather than my own. I presume that is the key to this puzzle?' He asked.

'Yes.' Dumbledore beamed at him as one looks at a child who has just learnt to tie their shoelaces. 'The wand is the key. Can you hazard a guess as to why?'

'It's not just a wand, is it? Sometimes I got the feeling that it was almost… sentient.' Snape felt insane voicing such an idea, but Dumbledore's smile only widened.

'Indeed, indeed. That wand is certainly much more than it seems. Once upon a time, it belonged to Lily Evans.'

'To Lily? But I know Lily's wand, I was there when she bought it. I would have realised…'

'You knew the wand she grew up with, certainly, and are right in thinking the one I gave you is not the same. Her old wand was broken around three years prior to her death, in what was her first real confrontation with the forces of Voldemort, I believe.'

Severus winced. He remembered that night well. It had been his first true confrontation with the order, junior as he was in the Dark Lord's ranks. Prior to that he had been kept back, his skills at potions being put to use. It had seemed like an honour to finally be trusted in the field.

But it was also the first time he saw Lily again, fighting as he had always known she would be on the opposite side. It had been the moment he saw her there that his loyalty to his master first failed.

The unthinkable had happened. She had been caught unawares by a Death Eater and fallen to the ground, her beautiful red hair glinting in the light of the fires burning all around them like a beacon to him.

Without thinking, he had acted. The nameless, faceless Death Eater was dead before he hit the ground. Finding Lily merely unconscious, he had pulled her from the flames and rubble to a safe place where she would hopefully be found by order members.

The Death Eaters were retreating now and he pulled himself from Lily's side to follow them, wishing for a moment that he had made different choices and could stay with her. But then he saw James Potter sprinting through the flames and knew that it could not be any other way.

It was certainly easy to see how Lily's wand would have become lost and broken in the chaos. He had no memory of seeing it when he had pulled her to safety.

Severus allowed himself to dwell on the past only a moment longer before pulling himself together and concentrating on the question in hand.

'I don't understand, how could a wand do this?' He asked, gesturing vaguely to himself and their surroundings.

Dumbledore sighed and removed his half-moon glasses, absent-mindedly cleaning them on his robe, though a spell would have done a far better job.

'To explain such a thing to you, Severus, there is much I must first inform you of. Some knowledge, perhaps, that I should have trusted you with long ago.'

'Go on.' Was Severus's only response. He ignored the pleading look of remorse on the old man's face. He was certainly not going to offer forgiveness before he even knew what he was supposed to be forgiving.

'Horcruxes. That is how Voldemort has survived.' Dumbledore confessed. 'Do you know what one is?'

'I think I heard mention of them once in a book of dark magic from Lucius's library, but the reference was vague. It said only that they were objects of unspeakable evil, not to be attempted under any circumstances, which is strong coming from a book that described in detail how to boil a captive's blood while they are still alive.' Severus replied after some consideration.

'A charming read, I'm sure.' Dumbledore responded, frowning in distaste. 'But I cannot disagree with that verdict on Horcruxes. Put simply, a Horcrux splits the maker's soul and places fragments in objects, tying him or her to life. A Horcrux can have strange and varied effects on those who encounter it and there are few ways to destroy one once it has been created.'

'I see.' Severus quickly assimilated this new information, considering the implications. 'So the Dark Lord can never be defeated while his horcruxes remain. The ring, it was a Horcrux wasn't it? And… the diary from the Chamber of Secrets. This is what Potter and his friends have been searching for. I presume the sword of Gryffindor is one of the ways to destroy them and that is why it was so important for me to deliver it to them.'

'Yes, the diary and the ring were both Horcruxes.' Dumbledore admitted. 'The sword itself though was not the way to destroy them. Rather, basilisk venom. The sword became coated in it when Harry used it to kill the monster in the chamber of secrets.

'Perhaps if I had informed you of this as soon as I began to suspect it, we may have been able to locate and dispose of the horcruxes earlier. Believe me, that thought has plagued me through the years. But I'm sure you can understand why I did not. The more lies you had to tell, the more danger you would be in and…'

'And I did my job too well. You could never be sure that I was truly your servant rather than the Dark Lord's.' Severus finished for him, this conformation that he had never held Dumbledore's full trust not bothering him in the slightest. 'You warned me to take notice when the Dark Lord kept Nagini close, but surely he would not… to a living creature?'

'I'm afraid so.' His former master confirmed. 'I imagine it rather appealed to Tom's vanity, having a living creature so completely under his control. The symbolism, being the leader of the snakes, I am sure also appealed.'

'That's why Harry could see his thoughts, isn't it? That's why Harry had to die. There was a piece of the Dark Lord's soul in him.' Severus murmured weakly, looking disgusted.

'Yes. That is why.' Dumbledore replied, feeling something akin to pride that Severus had been able to work it out so quickly. 'Even Voldemort himself was not aware of that, though. He was too blinded by his own arrogance to believe that the link could be down to his mistake. If he had known, I am sure he would have been far more eager to preserve Mr Potter's life.'

'But Harry survived. I suppose the killing curse destroyed the fragment of the Dark Lord's soul rather than killing the boy.' Severus mused. 'You gambled that this would happen, though you could not know for sure.'

'A gamble that was necessary, believe me. If there were any other way I would have found it.' Dumbledore said, regret heavy in his voice. 'Either must die at the hands of the other, for neither can live while the other survives.'

'How many were there, in total?'

'Gambles? Thousands, oh, hundreds upon thousands, Severus. Enough that I could hardly allow myself to hope we would get this far.

'But Horcruxes, seven, I believe. The diary, the ring, the snake and Harry I was sure of. The others, I knew that one was the locket of Slytherin and another the cup of Hufflepuff, though never found them in my lifetime. As for the last, I thought perhaps something of significance to Ravenclaw, though unless the lost diadem was found I cannot imagine what.

'Harry knew not to return until all apart from the snake were destroyed though. Excepting, of course, the one inside him which he did not find out about until he saw your memories.'

'And how does all of this lead back to Lily's wand?' Severus asked after a long pause. 'How does it explain why we are here?'

'Another gamble, as I'm sure you can imagine. You see, Lily sacrificed herself to save the life of someone she loved. She chose her own death and that is a powerful thing. She was desperate to protect her son, but I doubt very much she fully understood what she was doing. A spell like that, for permanent protection, requires permanent sacrifice. I believe that the magic she invoked… well, it trapped her soul. An anti-Horcrux, if you like, made from sacrificing herself rather than sacrificing another. A thing of pure goodness and unimaginable power, all contained within the nearest object at the time.'

'Her wand.' Severus said, his expression one of awe. 'But this protection, it was meant for her son.'

'It was meant to protect someone Lily loved, Severus. That is the only condition. You are here, so we may assume that her soul found you worthy of that title. Besides, you swore to protect Lily's son, who better to wield an object meant for just that?'

'Does that mean that her soul will be swapped for mine?'

'No, I do not think so. I believe your soul would be returned in place of the Horcrux that was destroyed from Harry. It was created the same night as Lily's anti-Horcrux, so they were intrinsically linked. Pure good and pure evil existing in parallel to one another, as it were. This link would allow your life force to return as the Horcrux leaves, touched by the pure good as it has been.

'You must admit, such protection now would have been useless to Harry since the Horcrux itself allowed him to survive. Lily's protection should remain intact following this. If you believed it should be returned to Harry now, you may do so yourself. You will be able to reclaim your own wand, assuming Voldemort is defeated.'

'And if I do not wish to return?'

'Then I'm sure you may choose not to. But I urge you to consider the opportunity you have here, Severus. You have spent years living your life for someone else. This is a chance to live it for yourself.'

'No,' Severus realised, 'you are wrong. My job is not done. I did not promise to serve you, I promised to protect Lily's son.'

'Goodbye, then, Severus, my boy, and good luck.'

'Goodbye, Albus.'

Severus was cold when he woke, shivering on the grimy floor of the shrieking shack in a pool of his own blood. His thoughts were clearer now than they had been in that strange, dreamlike place and it took him barely a second to yank up his left sleeve. To his wonder, his forearm was miraculously clear. The mark that had plagued him for more than half his life was gone.

His fingers closed around the wand, Lily's wand, which had fallen beside him. Now that he knew what it truly was, its familiar warmth comforted him. Wasting no more time, he walked with purpose from the shack, hurrying back into the fray. He started when he witnessed Voldemort's procession out of the forest, but held his nerve. Harry Potter was not dead. He knew that for a fact.

He witnessed as no one else did when Potter slipped under his invisibility cloak while all were distracted. He followed when combatants from both sides rushed into the castle to continue the fight. Safe under a disillusionment charm, he went unnoticed in the throng when he felled any death eaters he could catch unawares.

He watched as the Malfoys searched for their son, not caring at all which way the battle went. Watched, as Bellatrix fell to Molly Weasley and Voldemort screamed in rage. Watched, as Harry Potter stepped out from the protection of his invisibility cloak and walked to face his destiny.

Potter was talking, shouting that he did not need help. Refusing to see someone else step in front of him again. It worked like a charm. Those fools listened to him, believed that it was the job of this 17-year-old boy to save them all. But Severus Snape had already died once tonight for Harry Potter. He was not afraid to do it again.

Before Voldemort could respond to Potter's calls, Snape cancelled the disillusionment charm he had placed upon himself and stepped into the middle of the ring that had formed, placing himself between his former master and his former student. He was aware that he must look ghastly, caked as he was in his own drying blood, and was rather pleased with the effect. For once the Dark Lord was rendered speechless, staring with shock at the servant whose life he had taken hours ago.

'Ssseveruss.' He hissed out at length. 'My loyal ssservant. How have you returned?'

'A parting gift, from Albus Dumbledore.' Snape replied, Lily's wand pointing straight at his former master's mutated face.

'Why would Dumbledore send you back?' The Dark Lord asked, his expression shifting almost imperceptibly at the mention of one of the only wizards he had ever feared.

'To do what I have always done, since the day that you murdered Lily Potter.' Snape answered calmly, ignoring the audience around them. 'To protect her son.'

'That mudblood? I should have realisssed when you begged me to spare her life that you were too weak to ssserve. And yet, you killed Dumbledore. How could he save you?'

'Yes, I killed him, but on his own orders. He had planned all of this, knew exactly what you would do. Even from beyond the grave, he is a more powerful wizard than you could ever be.'

'It matters not. I will kill you again and then I will kill Harry Potter.' Voldemort said dismissively, though Snape thought he could detect a hint of nervousness behind his snake-like eyes. The Dark Lord may not fear Snape or Potter, but even now he was afraid of Dumbledore.

'Please professor, stand aside, I don't want anyone else to die for me tonight.' Harry Potter called out from behind him.

'I do not want anyone else to die because of me tonight, Mr Potter, so I am afraid I cannot stand aside.' Severus replied without breaking eye contact with Voldemort, knowing that if he did he would be killed immediately.

'You are a fool if you think yourself strong enough to face me.' Voldemort taunted, his shock at the betrayal of one of his most trusted servants wearing off quickly.

'Why? You are not the master of that wand, we neither of us are. It does not serve you, it will not protect you from defeat.'

'And you will be protected by what – love? Dumbledore's favourite myth. Love is not power. Your little mudblood has been gone for years and yet still you would give up your life for her. Love will not protect you any more than it protected her.'

'You are quick to dismiss something that has proved time and time again your downfall. Tell me, have you seen the Malfoys fighting by your side tonight? No, for all that they were loyal to you in the past they have abandoned you now. You see, they love their son. The second you threatened his life, you began to lose them.

'And what of dear Bellatrix? Struck down by Molly Weasley because she too loved her son and you took him from her.

'I fooled you. I lied to you. The servant of two masters and I learnt from you both. I did not waste the years.'

The duelling that followed was far too rapid for the naked eye to follow. It was unclear to the audience if either had the upper hand, although Snape certainly held his own better than McGonagall, Slughorn and Kingsley had together.

Finally, a spell broke through his defences and his leg buckled, taking him down to one knee. It seemed that this must be the end of it and everyone waited with bated breath to see Severus Snape fall as so many had before him at the hand of Lord Voldemort.

'Avada Kadavra.' The dark lord cried, believing as all others did that he had won this duel. Severus was not sure why, or how, but he somehow knew what spell to cast. Perhaps it was the urge to see his familiar doe again and so feel close to Lily as he died, but whatever it was the words came out.

'Expecto Patronum.' His silvery guardian burst forth, seemingly more vibrant than ever. She met the killing curse, but rather than passing through her as it should have done it bounced as though she was a solid thing. Voldemort still had victory in his eyes as he fell, struck down by his own spell as it rebounded.

The doe shattered into a thousand pieces, the silvery light that she was made up of dispersing and spreading out until it was no longer visible. In his hand, Severus felt the familiar warmth leave Lily's wand and knew that it was now just a useless piece of wood.

Around him, the room was entirely silent. He could hear his own breathing as loudly as a thunderstorm. No one seemed willing to move, waiting with bated breath as though Voldemort might suddenly stand up again and continue his reign of terror.

Finally, Potter moved, walking forwards and dropping to his knees beside his former professor. Leaning forward, he pulled the man who he had once despised into an embrace.

'Thank you, sir. For everything.' He murmured.

'Get off me, Potter.' Snape managed to growl in response, but he pulled the boy closer and they held onto each other as they tried to process the fact that the monster who had haunted both of their lives was finally gone.