The Passing
Severus Snape was barely aware of the darkened surroundings in the Intensive Care Unit of St. Mungo's Hospital. From time to time the soft swish of a healer's robes would register on his consciousness as everyday events went on outside of the dim, quiet, curtained-off room. Inside the room, however, his attention was focused on the small frail figure lying before him in the bed.
"Mother, are you in pain?" he whispered.
Eileen Prince Snape opened her eyes and nodded "No." The combination of illness and potion remedies left her too weak to speak. She saw the furrow between her young son's eyes grow deeper each hour as his concern mounted. She looked deeply into Severus's eyes and saw the sorrow etched in their depths. Using most of her remaining strength, Eileen took her son's hand in her own. She managed a reassuring smile.
Severus lowered his head before his mother could see the tears running down his thin, sallow cheeks.
Eileen's father, who had been watching from a shadowed corner, came to his grandson's side and placed his hand on his shoulder.
"It won't be long now, Severus. Healer Dorothea has assured me that your mother is not suffering. It's time to bring your father up."
Severus was sure his father was pacing impatiently outside St. Mungo's looking for the entrance he knew existed and cursing the entire wizarding community for spiriting Eileen out of his control. Sudden, uncontrollable anger rose in Severus's throat like a tiger clawing to get out.
"It's not fair! He forced her to take all those worthless muggle treatments while she just grew weaker and weaker. She'd vomit after one of their "cures" until she was so dizzy that Father had to carry her to bed. Why did he put her through that? Why wouldn't he let her see a healer until it was too late? Why? I hate him! I don't care, Grandad, I hate him! He wouldn't ever let her alone. Ever! He hated the fact that we were magical. He couldn't control us, and he hated that. And now I hate him!" Severus placed his head in his hands and sobbed silently, shoulders shaking in grief and rage.
His grandfather sighed. He had not rejoiced when Eileen came to him with the news she was going to marry a muggle. He had always accepted the fact that his daughter was not particularly attractive, but he never imagined she would marry outside her own community. He tried to talk her out of this marriage, afraid her choice was made out of desperation. In the end it proved useless. Eileen married Tobias Snape in a muggle ceremony. Her father placed the wedding announcement in the Daily Prophet. One year later, in January, he placed Severus's birth announcement. And he watched as Tobias, jealous of Eileen's and Severus's magical abilities, and resentful of their ties to the wizarding community, isolated his family from all magical contacts, including Eileen's family.
His once happy grandson smiled less and less with each precious visit. Eileen's father broached his concern, but his daughter placed her hand on his arm with a worried, tense look in her eyes as if to say she was afraid to pursue the matter. It was then Eileen's father guessed the true nature of her marriage and offered his home as shelter. His offer came too late. Eileen was already ill with an incurable disease and Tobias took complete control of his wife's treatment. Eileen's father looked on with helpless anguish as she began to fail and Severus became even more withdrawn and solitary, his rage at his father taking him to dark pursuits.
And so it came to this, grandfather and grandson at Eileen's bedside.
"Shall I fetch Tobias?" Eileen's father asked gently.
Severus's eyes hardened, taking on that fathomless quality that people noted in later years. He breathed raggedly. "No. Let him stay outside, Granddad. He's done enough harm already." Then he looked at his mother's tired face and the love for him shone in her fading eyes and something inside of him softened out of deep love for his mother. "Let him come up, Grandad, Just keep him away from Mother and me."
After his grandfather left the room, Severus stood at his mother's bedside. He took her right hand in his and kissed it, stroking it in his lank, neglected hair, laying the palm on his thin cheek. He leaned in close to her ear and whispered: "I love you, Mother, with my whole heart. Don't be afraid. Let go and be at peace."
His mother took one panting breath, then another, finally a deep sigh and then, nothing. Still holding her hand, Severus placed his hand over her pulse. She had slipped away forever. He closed her eyes, stroked her hair carefully, and gently kissed her forehead.
Hearing voices in the hall, Severus stood up. His eyes regained the cold, fathomless look as he turned and faced his father.