A/N: In this fanfiction, a lot of characters that are dead in the book are NOT dead... like... Fred, Remus, Sirius, etc but Wormtail IS dead... cuz he died in Azkaban... (I'll make a chapter for this later on)

I don't own Harry Potter.

Harry sighed. This will be a long mission. He took his wand out, the new one he bought from Knockturn Alley, and shrunk his trunk which was later put into his pocket right before he left his room.

He looked back at his room one more time before walking down the stairs leading to the front door.

"Harry, what are you doing?" A feminine voice rang through the halls. He stilled, he looked back at her and saw that James was also there, standing behind Lily.

"I'm leaving." He tried to control himself from trembling, which remarkably he was able to. Harry looked at Lily's eyes.

"Why?"

He stayed silent for a while before saying, "I'm an adult now. I'm moving out," He took his heir ring off, which gave an inhuman shriek, and threw it at his mother.

"Keep it. You'll need it eventually..." Harry didn't stay long enough to see his parent's shocked faces.

Harry's eyes slowly opened and blinked a few times until his vision clear- for him. He winced when he saw all of the bandages around his body.

"Finally awake?"

He jumped, startled before rubbing his bandaged shoulder saying, "Oww..."

"I'll take that as a yes," Healer Thompson chuckled as Harry scowled. He walked over to Harry and ran his fingers through the outline of the bandages before he put his hand down and straightened up.

"Yup. The curse should be gone, and you'll be good as new in a few days..." He carefully said the words, "But, that means that you need to ask for a trial and become a free man."

Harry looked at his fidgeting fingers, "Sometimes, I wondered why I even agreed to become a death eater but other days, I would say that this was the right thing to do," He smiled weakly at him, "Stupid right? Changing opinions every week or so-"

"That's not stupid." He interrupted. "It's not stupid to be changing opinions. Especially when you're a death eater. I've met a few that tried to become light. They also said that one second, they agreed to You-Kno-Who but then all of a sudden, they wanted to run from him and get the- how should I phrase this, 'Bloody tattoo' off."

Harry stared at him before cracking a smile at him. "I guess... that's true. I've met Lucius and Draco, they agreed with getting the muggleborns to get used to our traditions, or not letting them get mixed up with wizards, but then they suddenly say that Voldemort," Healer Thompson flinched. "Needs to be killed... But I killed people, I'm no good than Bellatrix."

He frowned. "Did you torture anyone to insanity?"

Harry shook his head, "I killed Dumbledore and Moody. That's how I became his right-hand man, and I knew that back then, Bellatrix was trying to kill me to become his right-hand man- no woman- Merlin... This is tough... Anyways, Bellatrix killed people, I killed people, we're the same balance."

"Then be the balance." Harry's jaw dropped so he resumed talking quickly, "You be the light where you rose by killing important people. Mad-eye and Dumbledore by an Order by both the Light-side and the Dark-side. You helped kill Voldemort by destroying some of his soul pieces and by helping Sage Potter. Bellatrix killed many and became his right hand, but was pulled down when you came by. I'm guessing, but Mad-eye and Dumbledore made it easy to kill themselves because they wanted you to become his right hand." He smiled, do you need anything else?"

"No-" Harry's stomach growled and he blushed in reply. "I-I guess... Breakfast."

"Coming right up!" He chuckled and mock saluted.

"So he's the target right?"

The man with a silver mask nodded. "He betrayed out master. He needs to be punished just like how our Lord would like to punish him."

The man on the left smirked, "I heard that there's a new prophecy concerning him."

"And how is that relevant Rudolphus?" The other man, Rabastan said.

"The prophecy states that the dead, hero will win but the terror or death will strike again. Dead Hero maybe him because he got hit with the curse and he's a death eater. Dead Hero, get it?" Rudolphus chuckled.

The other man sneered and gave off a dark chuckle. "Harry Potter... The other savior of the wizarding world."

A/N: This part beyond is exactly from 'Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows' but instead it's Sage. Not Harry.

The room beyond was dimly lit, but he could see Nagini, swirling and coiling like a serpent underwater, safe in her enchanted, starry sphere, which floated unsupported in midair. He could see the edge of a table and a long-fingered white hand toying with a wand. Then Snape spoke, and Sage's heart lurched: Snape was inches away from where he crouched, hidden.

". . . my Lord, their resistance is crumbling-"

"-and it is doing so without your help," said Voldemort in his high, clear voice. "Skilled wizard though you are, Severus, I do not think you will make much difference now. We are almost there . . . almost."

"Let me find the boy. Let me bring you, Potter. I know I can find him, my Lord. Please."

Snape strode past the gap, and Sage drew back a little, keeping his eyes fixed upon Nagini, wondering whether there was any spell that might penetrate the protection surrounding her, but he could not think of anything. One failed attempt, and he would give away his position. . . . Voldemort stood up. Sage could see him now, see the red eyes, the flattened, serpentine face, the pallor of him gleaming slightly in the semidarkness.

"I have a problem, Severus," said Voldemort softly.

"My Lord?" said Snape.

Voldemort raised the Elder Wand, holding it as delicately and precisely as a conductor's baton. "Why doesn't it work for me, Severus?"

In the silence, Sage imagined he could hear the snake hissing slightly as it coiled and uncoiled — or was it Voldemort's sibilant sigh lingering in the air?

"My — my Lord?" said Snape blankly. "I do not understand. You — you have performed extraordinary magic with that wand."

"No," said Voldemort. "I have performed my usual magic. I am extraordinary, but this wand . . . no. It has not revealed the wonders it has promised. I feel no difference between this wand and the one I procured from Ollivander all those years ago." Voldemort's tone was musing, but he could feel that controlled sense of fury building inside Voldemort. "No difference," said Voldemort again.

Snape did not speak. Sage could not see his face: He wondered whether Snape sensed danger, was trying to find the right words to reassure his master.

Voldemort started to move around the room: Sage lost sight of him for seconds as he prowled, speaking in that same measured voice, while the pain and fury he heard again from Voldemort.

"I have thought long and hard, Severus. . . . Do you know why I have called you back from the battle?" And for a moment Sage saw Snape's profile: His eyes were fixed upon the coiling snake in its enchanted cage.

"No, my Lord, but I beg you will let me return. Let me find Potter."

"You sound like Lucius. Neither of you understands Potter as I do. He does not need finding. Potter will come to me. I know his weakness, you see, his one great flaw. He will hate watching the others struck down around him, knowing that it is for him that it happens. He will want to stop it at any cost. He will come."

"But my Lord, he might be killed accidentally by one other than yourself —"

"My instructions to my Death Eaters have been perfectly clear. Capture Potter. Kill his friends — the more, the better — but do not kill him. But it is of you that I wished to speak, Severus, not Sage Potter. You have been very valuable to me. Very valuable."

"My Lord knows I seek only to serve him. But — let me go and find the boy, my Lord. Let me bring him to you. I know I can —"

"I have told you, no!" said Voldemort, and Sage caught the glint of red in his eyes as he turned again, and the swishing of his cloak was like the slithering of a snake, and he felt Voldemort's impatience. "My concern at the moment, Severus, is what will happen when I finally meet the boy!"

"My Lord, there can be no question, surely — ?"

"— but there is a question, Severus. There is." Voldemort halted, and Sage could see him plainly again as he slid the Elder Wand through his white fingers, staring at Snape. "Why did both the wands I have used fail when directed at Sage Potter?"

"I — I cannot answer that, my Lord."

"Can't you?"

"My wand of yew did everything of which I asked it, Severus, except to kill Sage Potter. Twice it failed. Ollivander told me under torture of the twin cores, told me to take another's wand. I did so, but Lucius's wand shattered upon meeting Potter's."

"I — I have no explanation, my Lord." Snape was not looking at Voldemort now. His dark eyes were still fixed upon the coiling serpent in its protective sphere.

"I sought a third wand, Severus. The Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick. I took it from its previous master. I took it from the grave of Albus Dumbledore." And now Snape looked at Voldemort, and Snape's face was like a death mask. It was marbled white and so still that when he spoke, it was a shock to see that anyone lived behind the blank eyes.

"My Lord — let me go to the boy —"

"All this long night, when I am on the brink of victory, I have sat here," said Voldemort, his voice barely louder than a whisper, "wondering, wondering, why the Elder Wand refuses to be what it ought to be, refuses to perform as legend says it must perform for its rightful owner . . . and I think I have the answer." Snape did not speak. "Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen."

"My Lord —"

"The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot be truly mine."

"My Lord!" Snape protested, raising his wand.

"It cannot be any other way," said Voldemort. "I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last." And Voldemort swiped the air with the Elder Wand. It did nothing to Snape, who for a split second seemed to think he had been reprieved: But then Voldemort's intention became clear. The snake's cage was rolling through the air, and before Snape could do anything more than yell, it had encased him, head and shoulders, and Voldemort spoke in Parseltongue. There was a terrible scream. Sage saw Snape's face losing the little color it had left; it whitened as his black eyes widened, as the snake's fangs pierced his neck, as he failed to push the enchanted cage off himself, as his knees gave way and he fell to the floor.

"I regret it," said Voldemort coldly. He turned away; there was no sadness in him, no remorse. It was time to leave this shack and take charge, with a wand that would now do his full bidding. He pointed it at the starry cage holding the snake, which drifted upward, off Snape, who fell sideways onto the floor, blood gushing from the wounds in his neck.

Voldemort swept from the room without a backward glance, and the great serpent floated after him in its huge protective sphere. Back in the tunnel and his own mind, Sage opened his eyes: He had drawn blood biting down on his knuckles in the effort not to shout out. Now he was looking through the tiny crack between crate and wall, watching a foot in a black boot trembling on the floor.

"Sage!" breathed Hermione behind him, but he had already pointed his wand at the crate blocking his view. It lifted an inch into the air and drifted sideways silently. As quietly as he could, he pulled himself up into the room. He did not know why he was doing it, why he was approaching the dying man: He did not know what he felt as he saw Snape's white face and the fingers trying to staunch the bloody wound at his neck. Sage took off the Invisibility Cloak and looked down upon the man he hated, whose widening black eyes found Sage as he tried to speak. Sage bent over him, and Snape seized the front of his robes and pulled him close. A terrible rasping, gurgling noise issued from Snape's throat.

"Take . . . it. . . . Take . . . it. . . ." Something more than blood was leaking from Snape. Silvery blue, neither gas nor liquid, it gushed from his mouth and his ears and his eyes, and Sage knew what it was, but did not know what to do — A flask, conjured from thin air, was thrust into his shaking hands by Hermione. Sage lifted the silvery substance into it with his wand. When the flask was full to the brim, and Snape looked as though there was no blood left in him, his grip on Sage's robes slackened.

"Look . . . at . . . me. . . ." he whispered, he looked straight into his eyes. The brown eyes found the black, but after a second, something in the depths of the dark pair seemed to vanish, leaving them fixed, blank, and empty. The hand holding Sage thudded to the floor, and Snape moved no more.

Sage suddenly awoke and found himself on the comfortable bed at Potter Manor. He touched his scar and remembered how Snape looked at him. Why did he want to look at him? What was so special? Was it because he had Lily's red hair? No, that can't be it, his red hair isn't that vibrant, or did he mistake him for Harry? He shook his head. Perhaps he wanted to see Lily's face one last time. He stood from the bed and quietly went down the steps, making sure that he was making no sound.

"You awake too?"

He was startled at the voice and saw James sitting, and having a cup of hot chocolate in his hand. He nodded. "Bad dream." He replied.

"Bad dream, or reliving bad memories?" James' eyebrows rose. He looked at his hands.

"Reliving bad memories. This time it was when Snape died. I never really liked him because of his favoring of Slytherins but when I saw him like that, it was so sad... but he... looked like he was looking for something in my eyes. What do you think it was?"

"Green."

"What?" He took the cup of hot chocolate that James just handed him.

"Lily's Green eyes. He may have wanted to look at it one last time, but you had brown." James looked out the window that was still dark.

"Harry? Did... he mistook me for Harry?"

James nodded before he sipped from his cup. "Snape was fond of Harry. In his first year, Snape was horrible at him, but then Harry spoke with Snape and he noticed that there was more of Lily than me... He hates me, you know that? Can't blame him though."

"Why? Why does he hate you?" Sage asked, curiosity blooming.

"I gave him a hard time during school. I teased him and hurt him many times, and one time, he accidentally said something to Lily and then... their friendship broke. That was my fault. If I hadn't teased him for that, then he wouldn't have become a death eater, and he wouldn't be... dead. Lily told me you know, she knew Snape before Hogwarts and Snape... He had a bad childhood." James' face looked solemn. "His mother was killed by his father when he was young and he had to live with him for years, and that's how he became to hate a few muggles. Can't blame him for that either."

Sage's face looked shocked. He had a bad time at school because of his father. It kind of reminded him of himself. He too sometimes- no most times bullied Slytherin first years just because he hated them, and Snape used to always say, 'Just like your father' and now that he talked about it, it was true. He was just like his father, good and bad.

Bad grammar... sorry!