Arthur stared at the old witch, his eyes wide. "He… he's dead?" She nodded slowly, carefully. She patted him on the back, hobbling back into her house.

He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, looking at the still form of the man on the ground before him. He was white-faced, moisture on his forehead and a few red fingerprints on his high cheekbone. His wrist lay exposed, the large slice on his arm gleaming red against the chalky skin.

Had it not been him that Severus had saved, had it not been a daring and dangerous journey, had it not been that Severus had injured himself WHILE helping Arthur, he might not have cared so much that the unpleasant and slightly spooky man was dead. Had the man not given his own life in order to save Arthur's, he might not have cared. Unfortunately, he had, and now that Arthur thought of it, he'd probably saved countless others, too. How could he just get up and walk away?

A look of firm determination plastered his face as he straightened himself. He gathered the heavy man into his trembling arms, and disapparated.

When he arrived home, he let the body fall onto the kitchen table, upsetting a few glasses and bowls that fell to the floor with the sound of breaking dinnerware. He looked at the clack, seeing that most of his family was at home. He called out, and the edge to his voice must have been evident, because he heard people's feet moving about upstairs immediately.

A drop of sweat trickled down his temple, and he started violently at the sound of a scream. He turned to see his youngest child and only daughter with her slender hands clapped over her mouth, her brown eyes wide and shocked at the sight before her.

"Jesus, dad!" Ron's voice said from the other entrance to the kitchen. "What the hell happened?" He didn't bother to chastise his 15 year old son for his language, he would have had the same sentiment in his boy's situation.

The whole family, save the oldest two, were there now, looking in shock at the angular form of Hogwarts' esteemed potions master lying on their kitchen table.

"Arthur," Molly whispered. "What on earth has happened?"

"Dad?" Percy asked, edging a bit closer for a better look.

"Your teacher saved me," he said softly, firmly. His face was starting to flow back to its original color. "I was kidnapped by Deatheaters, and he saved me. He accidentally cut his arm open while he was trying to cut open the ropes I was tied with. We got free and he snuck me out of the building I was being held in, but… he passed out, and I went to get help but he was already…"

Arthur reached out and pulled Snape's limp wrist towards him revealing the ugly wound. There were gasps and shrieks from the family, and Fred had his hand over his mouth, looking decidedly queasy. Arthur covered it again. "I didn't know what to do, where to go, so I apparated here…"

"But, dad," Ron said. "That's… I mean, it's Snape," he seemed confused and upset. How could Snape, his evil Potions master who hated everything and everyone, do something so virtuous?

"That makes no difference, Ron!" Arthur snapped at him, angry at his son's disbelief. "He saved my life,"

"Did you think that we would know what to do?" Percy asked, his eyes wide as dinner plates.

"Well, I had this idea, you see," he said softly. "The ministry is doing some really secret project on ways to bring witches and wizards back to life. I mean there are some sort of regulations, the death has to be a certain kind of death, but I thought, maybe, that they could help him, bring him back to life. It has something to do with personalities, and you all knew him,"

George peered over the corpse, poking the face gently with his index finger. "Shouldn't you be asking the ministry about that, Dad?" he asked.

"George, stop it!" Arthur grabbed the boy by the shoulder, jerking him away. He was startled to see the body move. It lurched violently as a black mist-like cloud tore itself from his chest. They watched, stunned, as it reformed into a ball.

"Oh my GOD," a familiar voice hissed as the ball drifted to rest on the top of the body's chest. "You've KILLED me!" it snarled, gleaming a red color.

"That sounds like Snape," George yelped.

"That's because it IS, you bloody idiot," the voice hissed.

Ginny looked at it in fascination. "Is that a ghost?" she wondered. She reached out to touch it. "It doesn't look like the ghosts at school," her fingers brushed it. She yelped, jerking her hand back. The thing jumped away from her.

"Stop it! Don't you have any respect?" the voice hissed.

"Are you okay, Professor?" Arthur asked tentatively.

"Okay, am I okay?" the orb gleamed red again. "Of course I'm not fucking okay! I'm DEAD, you idiot! And of course no easy death for me, I can't just DIE like normal people. Instead of getting released, I'm stuck as some fucking deformed ghost? Does it SOUND like I'm okay?"

"Arthur… I think we'd better contact Dumbledore." Molly said, finally. Arthur nodded. "I think you're right, Molly." He murmured.

Sure enough, within the hour, Dumbledore had arrived.