Written for The House Competition

House: Hufflepuff

Class: Transfiguration

Category: Drabble

Prompt:

[Theme] Survival

Bonus Prompt:

[Prompt] Alternative Outcome. (Event/Chapter rewrite)

Word Count: 752

Pain Relief

"All this long night, I have sat here wondering," said the Dark Lord, "wondering why the Elder Wand refuses to be what legends says it should be for its rightful owner."

Severus stood with his back to the wall of the Shrieking Shack. He eyed Nagini warily as she slithered about her master's feet;, so close, it was almost an embrace.

"Perhaps you already know? You are an intelligent man, Severus."

"My Lord—"

"You have been a good and faithful servant, Severus, but while you live, the Elder Wand cannot be truly mine."

"My Lord!" Severus raised his wand, the tip trembled even as he aimed it at his former master.

"Nagini," he said, and then his words became what Severus could only assume was parseltongue.

Nagini usually moved slowly, almost sensually, until she suddenly sprang forward, her jaw stretched open, showing off long, salivating fangs.

She lunged for Severus, and he felt the stabbing at his throat, the cold chill spread from the wound, followed by searing pain. The world blurred, and he felt the great snake slither over his body, and followed his master.

"I regret it," the Dark Lord said.

Severus lifted his hand to his neck, but it trembled, doing nothing to stem the flow of blood.

Two vibrant green eyes looked down on him, and the pain eased slightly at the thought of her. The blood didn't flow so freely, and soon he recognised the rest of the face.

"Take them… Take them…"

Even as he said it, the silver wisps of memory seeped down his face. With it, he felt weaker, felt the cost of the blood loss, but he needed to see her one last time.

"Look at me."

Everything went black.

Severus wasn't dead. This was too painful to be death. He was lost in blackness.

"Please," he begged.

Severus didn't believe in gods or angels, and he wasn't sure who he was calling out to. He just knew what he wanted. The end.

Fog billowed around him as the darkness dissipated, and it came with a bitter chill. The desire to find his way through the most grew, but his limbs were dead weight.

He didn't mind, after all, he'd never wanted to survive, not since Lily had died. Survival was difficult—painful. Death was the only relief.

"Please…"

Then, the blackness was interrupted by a sweet voice.

"Sev," it said, "what do you want?"

Black faded to grey, and grey faded to a dim light, revealing her. Auburn haired and as beautiful as the last time he saw her. Lily.

"Death." Severus felt the sting in his neck as he tensed his face, trying to stop the tears.

Her eyebrows puckered together, and her eyes shone more vibrantly than ever.

"Won't you choose life—, for me?"

"Why? You're not there."

Her pale hand reached into the murky unknown and she placed it on his neck. The burning faded to cool, but the thud of the poison was still in his system.

"You've protected Harry for so long," her lip trembled, "please, don't give up now."

In his palm, Severus found the anti-venom he carried with him everywhere. The dim light changed, and Lily faded away. He was on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, lying in a pool of his own blood.

He reached his neck and found the wound closed and clean. The poison could kill him. He could let it.

He looked down at the glass vial, and he remembered a night on a windy hilltop, and Dumbledore asking what he would do to save Lily and her family.

"Anything," he'd said.

Severus popped the cork, and he did anything for Lily all over again.

The lights in the hospital wing hurt his eyes after the darkness of the Shrieking Shack.

"You survived."

Severus turned his stiff neck to the side.

Minerva's usually tight bun was spiralling out of control, and dust and debris covered her robes, which were torn and stained. She had scratches and cuts on her face, and her arm was in a sling. Other than that, she looked at peace. For the first time, Severus saw a smile in Minerva's eyes.

"P-P-" His throat refused to cooperate, so he reached for Minerva, miming with his hands for a quill.

Once he had what he needed, he scrawled a single sentence.

Is Potter alive?

Minerva began to tear up once more. "Yes, but he doesn't have anyone left, Severus."

The quill hurriedly scratched the parchment.

He has me.