Author: I wrote this last night while listening to random music and reading Law and Order: SVU fics. Anyways, I really enjoyed this chapter, so, three pages of random! The chapter title comes from Nobody Wins by The Veronicas. Check it out.
Knockin' On Heaven's Door
Nobody Wins
"Hey, what's up with all of this, mates?" the familiar voice came from behind. Severus turned, surprised. There was Fred Weasley, all smiles as he brushed his hair out of his face. It was long and he looked very young again, the grin on his face one that Snape had seem many times as a teacher.
"You died?" he asked. Of course, he had seen him earlier, but earlier seemed just like a dream.
Fred nodded, running his fingers through his long red hair again, this time the smile on his face faint.
"Yeah, I did. It wasn't such a grand death as yours I hear, Professor."
Severus couldn't even smile. Children dying did not interest him. It never had.
"You will have more people miss you, I am sure, Mr. Weasley."
He nodded, unable to smile any more. This war had ended so many lives, and damaged even more. It was not fair, but Fred had learned through trial and error that not many things happened that way.
"Perhaps, Professor Snape, but I am sure that you have people who will miss you too."
He shook his head, pale fingers carding through his hair.
"All those who would miss me are already here."
---
"Harry-"
"You have to understand! This isn't… it isn't right." Harry grumbled. He was sitting in St. Mungo's at Ginny's bedside. She had only suffered minor scraps and bruises, but most of those that had survived were being held for observation incase something was missed. Close by, Ron and Hermione were in beds too, resting. Harry had left his, feeling the need to be closer to Ginny.
Hermione sighed. She didn't know what to say to her best friend. He had seen the memories, and they had not. Most of the dead bodies were still within Hogwarts walls. Most of them weren't even being given a proper burial. The same applied to the dead body of one Severus Snape.
"Harry, we can do what we can when we get out-"
"It might be too late by then, Mione! He saved so many people-"
"You used to hate him, just like us, mate." Ron cut in from his bed. Ginny shot a nasty look at her brother, holding Harry's hand in hers.
"He never did anything to you, Ron."
"This is pointless. All of you." Hermione interjected with a sigh. Honestly, they could all act like children sometimes and there wasn't a damn thing she could do to stop it.
"Hermione-"
"I'm being serious!" Harry exclaimed, standing up from his chair so fast that it fell back. The sound resounded around the room, loud and sharp. Everyone immediately felt silent, turning their attention to The Boy Who Lived.
Harry was standing up, his hands clenched into fists at his side. His glasses were sliding down his nose, showing his vibrant green eyes without the filter.
"Harry-"
"This isn't right! I'm going to McGonagall."
Without another word, he walked out.
---
Minerva sighed, leaning back in her chair. She felt so old right now… so damaged. The war was only the day before, or perhaps it was only hours. The sun was starting to come up over the horizon, shining into the window of her room at St. Mungo's. Poppy was in the bed next to hers, just as awake as the Transfigurations teacher.
"When this is all over… what will you do Minerva?" Poppy asked softly, turning to look at her long time friend.
Minerva sighed, relaxing back in the bed. She had dueled with everything in her, and had succeeded. Albus had once told her that she was the strongest witch he had ever known, but she had never believed him. Perhaps, in some regard, he had been halfway correct.
"… Albus once told me that he could see me as Headmistress of Hogwarts once he was gone. I suppose… that time has come."
"Professor!"
Both Poppy and Minerva looked up, the door to their room banging against the wall unceremoniously. There, in the doorway, stood Harry Potter, looking frantic. McGonagall shifted, moving to sit up straighter in her bed.
"Mr. Potter, what are you doing up this early-"
"You have to tell them, Professor. You have to tell the Ministry that Professor Snape deserves a proper burial-"
"What are you talking about, Mr. Potter?" she interrupted, slightly confused. Harry had mentioned something about Snape when he was being transported to St. Mungo's, but that was hearsay through Molly Weasley.
"I heard that they're not giving the Death Eaters a burial… that they're just going to pile up the bodies and burn them! I want you to tell the Ministry that Professor Snape was on our side-"
"Potter-"
"I saw his memories, Professor. Dumbledore asked Snape to kill him so he would be spared a painful death. Everything that Snape did, Professor, was to protect me!" Harry almost shouted.
Poppy looked between Harry and McGonagall, shock on her face. This was not what she had expected in the least.
"Potter-"
"Please Professor, just… he deserves better." Harry mumbled, trailing off.
Minerva sighed, her old eyes looking even more fragile as she rested in bed against the white sheets.
"Harry… I'll contact the Ministry in the morning."
The boy visibly relaxed, a soft sigh escaping him. A small smile adorned his face, relaxing the features there.
"Thank you, Professor."
---
"It seems that someone cares about you, Snape." Sirius quipped from his position. He was looking into something that looked mysteriously like a pond, but instead of water, there was the face of one Harry James Potter, smiling as he stood in the doorway of some room. As the picture panned out, Minerva and Poppy could be seen lying in beds. St. Mungo's.
"What are you going on about?" Severus asked as he walked over to Sirius. The man pointed to the clear surface as Harry shut the door and backed out of the room.
"It seems that my godson believes you are worth saving."
Severus stared at the picture, onyx eyes as black as night. He watched as Harry walked back down the hallway and entered into another room. This one had the rest of the Golden Trio, and Ginny, tucked away safely in beds.
Hermione asked Harry something, but Snape didn't hear the question or the answer. Instead, he was focusing intently on the picture.
"He's safe?"
"They're all safe, Snape."
He relaxed, continuing to stare at the picture.
"Perhaps… someone did win."
