One of Them
Summary: Snape Centric. Snippets of missing scenes from the ending of GoF to the ending of DH. .::. Severus Snape has been through a lot in his life. But just how much was he forced to deal with as a spy in the second war against Lord Voldemort?
Genre: Drama/Angst
Rating: T – for some swear words (not many though, which for me is very surprising!)
Author's Note: The funeral scene… deals mostly with just the main-est of the main characters. Not as long (not even close!) but hopefully you enjoy it anyways!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter… blah, blah, blah.
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June, 1998
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Minerva McGonagall steps back from the Pensieve; her eyes full of unshed tears and her whole body shivering in a cyclone of turmoil emotions.
"We have to tell the Ministry." Her voice is shaking and her words come rushed. "We can't let them arrest him… they have to know the truth. I have to find him – tell him I'm sorry. All this time… all this time, I thought he had betrayed us but he never did. We have to –"
"Snape's dead," Harry whispers quietly from his position leaning against the doorframe of the Headmaster's office.
McGonagall whirls around; her eyes flashing with disbelief. "He can't be dead! Voldemort would never… Voldemort thought he was loyal to him. He –"
"His body's in the Shrieking Shack… Voldemort did kill him. I was there, I saw it happen."
Minerva shakes her head slowly in denial. "No… Voldemort trusted Snape! Voldemort wouldn't have killed him – he trusted him. Why would –"
Harry sighs. "I'll explain everything in due time but for now we need to get his body. He deserves to be laid within Hogwarts, laid beside all the others that are counted heroes."
The Transfigurations professor nods. "I… I'll go get Kingsley… just, just in case we… you know… to carry him… just…"
McGonagall trails off as Harry arches his eyebrow in question. Eventual he nods to show his consent and McGonagall quickly exits the office, leaving Harry alone with Hermione and Ron.
Hermione is crying softly while Ron is just standing silent in shock. Both of them have just seen Snape's memories in the Pensieve.
"It's easier to think of him as evil," Ron simply states – still too shocked to really come up with a proper reaction to what he's seen.
"Ron!" Hermione turns angry, wet eyes towards the Weasley. "How dare you say that? He's a hero!" She weakly punches Ron in the shoulder. "It must've been so hard for him; you know, to… to kill Dumbledore. He obviously didn't want to do it. And we all hated him. He must've felt so alone. So very, very alone."
"Severus Snape…" Harry whispers. He looks as if he wants to say more but no words come to him. "Severus Snape…"
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The three wizards and two witches – Harry, Hermione, Ron, McGonagall, and Kingsley – make their way through the too-small tunnel that leads to the Shrieking Shack. Each of them carries their own sense of dread and guilt as the distinctive iron smell of blood reaches their noses.
They enter the small shack one by once. The room is dark as night has finally fallen but everyone is reluctant to cast the 'Lumos' spell for fear of what they'll see. The longer they put off seeing the body then the longer they can pretend he hasn't really died.
"Lumos," McGonagall eventually whispers, though she could've done the spell unspoken, with a flick of her wand. The small light that emits from her wand easily lights up the tiny, cramped room.
Cold, black eyes stare up at the five people. Eyes as dead as the night and as still as the air that surrounds them all.
"Severus…" McGonagall murmurs... her throat tight with grief.
The room falls into an awkward silence broken only by Hermione's sobs.
Eventually Kingsley kneels down beside Snape's lifeless body. The blood had stopped flowing hours ago and has now dried, sticky and thick, against Severus' clothes, skin, and hair. His skin is cold to the touch and has now become tinted with a slight blue hue.
Kingsley gently closes the lids on the lifeless black eyes and scoops up the Potions master in his arms. Severus is light; his cloak hiding just how malnourished and sickly he had been in life.
The three wizards and two witches leave the Shrieking Shack through the too-small tunnel. They let Kingsley lead them back to Hogwarts; Severus limp in his arms. No one dares to breathe.
Not even the air stirs.
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Severus Snape's funeral is the first one after the battle; taking place the very next day. He's not schedule to be buried in the graveyard in Spinner's End… or even next to the graves of his parents… not even beside Lily Potter's grave.
No – Severus Snape's body is scheduled to be buried beside the one man who had always trusted him. Albus Dumbledore.
Harry looks at the lifeless body in the open casket. He's not the first one to pass by… he had made sure of that… he had placed himself somewhere near the middle of the line.
Severus' hair doesn't look as greasy as Harry remembered… his face not as angry.
Harry feels slightly helpless and foolish. Hermione had been right in front of him in line and had placed a white rose at the base of the coffin before making her way to her seat.
Harry has nothing to give.
But he isn't the only one with nothing to offer. Many people had brought white flowers – more commonly either roses or daisies – but most brought nothing. They didn't know what to bring.
What could I offer you in death? Harry thinks to himself, Nothing I have can make up for the injustice you've been shown your whole life.
Harry lowers his head slightly and mutters a prayer under his breath. He has never been one for religion but he has nothing else to offer the broken soul that lays bare before him.
By now, even though it is barely twenty-four hours since Voldemort's defeat, all of the student body has learned of the tragic story of Severus Snape. Even those students who had been evacuated from the castle know… most of them have returned for this day… even if they can't bring themselves to come to the funeral service itself.
They've all returned to pay you your respects, Harry thinks, What would you think of this? I used to think that you would think this silly and pointless, that you wouldn't care. But now I don't know what you would think… I really don't know you at all.
"Harry," Ron whispers and the boy with Lily's eyes shakes himself from his thoughts.
"May you find the life you deserved in death that you were never given in life."
Ron raises an eyebrow. "I hope Snape's soul can make sense of that, because I don't think any of us can." He chuckles quietly.
Harry smiles, just a little, and makes his way to his seat beside Hermione. Soon Ron joins them and the three friends sit in silence as they watch the line of students walk past the open casket and pay their respects. One by one the line gets smaller and smaller as the seats on the grass fill up.
Harry swears he can hear even the winds lamenting the death of Severus Snape.
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Professor Minerva McGonagall stands patiently in front of the open casket; waiting for the overly large crowd of students and teachers to quiet down.
"He was never one of us," she quietly begins once everyone is silent. "He was never one of us because we refused to let him be. We all believed him to be one of them… one of the Death Eaters. But he wasn't… he always fought to become one of us. Up to the very day he died we all hated him, mistrusted him, and felt betrayed by him. And up to the very day he died he fought for us – he fought for the ones he never truly belonged to."
Some quiet sobs can now be heard from within the crowd that sits near, listening intently to every word that comes from the Transfigurations professor's mouth.
"Look to your right," Minerva continues, "And to your left. Look in front of you and behind you. See those people sitting around you?" Minerva takes a deep, shuddering breath. "You all fought together, you all trusted each other. You all had each other to lean on for support during this incredibly difficult time. He had no one."
A stunned silence befalls the crowd as McGonagall's words sink in.
"He made one terrible mistake when he was young – he spent the rest of his life atoning for the sins he made because of that mistake. And he spent his life alone because we all refused to allow him to become one of us. And yet… yet he… he…" Minerva's voice is starting to fail her but she pushes through her tattered emotions. "…even though we all mistrusted, and some hated, him he still fought for us. He fought to become one of us until the bitter end. He fought to become one of us when he knew that we would never allow him to become one of us." She pauses and takes another deep breath. "If there is anyone in this world deserving of redemption it is him – it is Severus Snape."
The crowd is silent as McGonagall slowly walks to her seat in the crowd and is replace by none other then Bill Weasley.
Bill smiles uncertainly at the crowd. "I, like many others, disliked Severus Snape. I disliked him as a teacher because… well… I think we all know why."
The crowd nervously laughs. Many people realize that Bill's trying to reduce the nervous tension in the air with jokes.
"When I joined the Order of the Phoenix…" Bill continues, "…I was horrified to find that Professor Snape was also in the Order. But I soon learned to respect him… at least, I thought I did. I realize now that all I ever respected about him was his actions and the role he played – I didn't respect him. And that was so unbelievably wrong of me." Bill has to stop talking for a few moments to get his emotions back under control. "Professor Snape had the hardest task of us all because his task, set by Professor Dumbledore himself, required him to shatter his soul."
No one needs to be told that the task Bill speaks of is in reference to the death of Albus Dumbledore.
"Professor Snape did everything Dumbledore asked him to do, no matter how horrifying those tasks were. Ask yourself, would any one of you be able to stomach working for Voldemort? Or how about killing the only man who ever really trusted you?" Bill has to stop, again, to rein his emotions in.
When he begins again he can't quite hide the lump of grief in his throat: "If you say yes to those questions then you're lying to yourself and you know that. Professor Snape was a rare man; a man who could completely disregard everything about himself to help those around him. And he could do that when the people around him, the people he was desperately giving up his soul for, hated him. And if you've ever wondered why he was always so short-tempered or mean then I think we can all safely say that we know the reason why."
Bill's voice had steadily risen with anger and regret but now he falls silent as his speech is done. He quietly and solemnly returns to his seat and his replaced by the temporary Minister of Magic: Kingsley Shacklebolt.
"Severus Snape did every thing in this war that Dumbledore asked him too; even the things that destroyed his soul. Severus wasn't immortal and he wasn't perfect – he spent most of his life trying to fix his mistakes. He was born in grief, raised in anger, and lived in hate and mistrust… but yet he managed feats that only the bravest of the brave could do. He never got from life what he deserved." Kingsley pauses and then smiles. "So that is why I'm doing something that has never been done before…"
The crowd breaks into hushed whispers as Kingsley pulls out a medal from a pocket in his robs and turns to face the open casket. With his back now facing the crowd he places the medal around Snape's lifeless neck and arranges it so it sits just right on the Potion masters chest.
"Severus Tobias Snape…" Kingsley says, his voice loud with pride and choked with emotions… his back still facing the crowd. "…I, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic, awards the Order of Merlin, First Class, to you for your courageous actions in war and your strength to keep on fighting when you had lost all hope."
The crowd is silent in shock. Never has an Order of Merlin been awarded to someone who isn't alive.
George Weasley is the first one of the crowd to stand up and clap. The second one is Hermione – whose tears stain her cheeks. One by one each member of the crowd, easily four hundred, stands up to share their appreciation for the fallen hero.
The ringing of the four-hundred strong standing ovation carries on the wind for miles as the white casket is laid to rest beside the grave of Albus Dumbledore.
Severus' body finally finds peace beside the one man who had always trusted him.
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June, 1999
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"Do you think he's happy?"
Harry shrugs. "How am I supposed to know?"
The memorial for Severus Snape is scheduled to begin in an hour but the three old friends – Harry, Ron, and Hermione – have felt need to pay their respects without the crowd that the memorial has promised to bring.
Hermione sniffles and places one white rose against the gravestone. "I hope he is… he deserves it."
"He deserved a lot more than he got in life too… who says death will grant him anything more than life did?" Ron mutters angrily.
Hermione whirls around to face the red-headed Weasley. "How can you say that!"
"We're not kids anymore." Ron's voice is bitter. "There isn't always a happy ending. Just because Snape deserves redemption and an afterlife in Heaven doesn't mean he got it."
Harry sighs and grabs a hold of Hermione to stop her from lunging at Ron. "Calm down Hermione," Harry whispers.
Hermione's breathing eventually slows down to a more normal pace and Harry thinks it safe to release her. Both of them know that Ron's anger and bitterness is due more to the fact that this isn't just the first year anniversary of Snape's death but also of everyone else who died – including Ron's brother, Fred.
Ron kicks at the dust on the ground for a few silent minutes before turning around and leaving. Hermione quickly follows him to try and offer whatever comfort she can.
Harry returns his attention to the gravestone before him. The inscription is plain and simple and he smiles as he reads it:
Severus Tobias Snape
1960 – 1998
One of Us
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June, 2008
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The memorials have become smaller over the years until finally dissipating into nothing more but the fleeting memories of those who had been there.
Hermione is one of those who still remembers.
She lays ten roses against the gravestone. She runs her fingers over the inscription that is now faded and worn with age.
"A rose for every year?"
Hermione straightens up and smiles softly. "Yes."
McGonagall steps forward so that the two of them stand side by side. "So it's been you who has been leaving roses every year, hasn't it?"
"The same number of roses as the number of years since he died."
"He's happier in death than he ever was in life," Minerva whispers.
The wind blows Hermione's hair around her face and manages to tease a few strands loose out of McGonagall's bun.
"Minerva," Hermione murmurs, "Why didn't he take an anti-venom potion? Surely he would've known that there was a chance that Voldemort would've sent Nagini to attack him. He would've known about the Elder Wand – he was clever enough to figure that out."
"Has this been bothering you all this time?"
Hermione wipes her tears away but they're quickly replaced by more. She nods silently as she finds herself unable to speak.
"I believe…" Minerva takes a deep breath and chooses her words carefully. "…I believe that he feared life after the war. He feared what would become of him if he was alive after Voldemort's downfall."
"But why?" Hermione manages to choke out between the lump in her throat. "Why would he fear a free life?"
"He only knew that one kind of life. And with Albus dead… well, Albus is the only person that was ever even close to being his friend. I think he couldn't handle the guilt of killing him… or the guilt of all the deaths he had caused – directly and indirectly." Minerva sighs. "And I think, above all, he feared not being believed."
"Do you think he knows we believe him?"
Minerva smiles as the wind rustles the roses that lean against the gravestone. "I believe that he's happy… and in the end… that's all that really matters. He deserves happiness and I can only regret that he never got that in life."
"He suffered enough for everyone… and more."
"I don't think he would've had it any other way."