Severus' death
There is a woman that follows Severus wherever he goes. So he is told, by one of the greatest authorities on Death there is. But he isn't so sure of that himself. He can't really imagine a woman who would waste her time following him around. There are so many better things a woman could do, after all.
No, Severus is not followed by anyone, except for those he has killed, and they don't count. They are already dead, so why should they mess about with the affairs of the living? But they do. Late at night, as he lies in his bed in the darkness of the dungeon, he sees their faces float by one by one. Sometimes they scream, sometimes not. Sometimes they glare accusingly at him, at other time they seem quite content. Severus has learned to ignore them, as he ignores so many other things. But he never tries to get rid of them, with a Pensieve, with Occlumency, or with those certain potions that could aid him in clearing his mind from these sins of the past. Somehow, he feels that he owes these memories the right to haunt his dreams and deprive him of sleep. After all, he has deprived them of far more than that. He wonders, sometimes, if they also had their own women and men following them, as he has been told they did. He imagines all those deadly messengers waiting in the background. That they silently watched him as he raised his wand against those who were soon to be his victims, that they took a step forward as the dead bodies slumped to the ground. He imagine that they took the hands of those he killed, and gently told them that it was time for them to move on, to leave for the world that follows after this one. He wonders, sometimes, if they ever looked back at him as they went.
But he is wrong, of course, about this as about so many other things, because there is indeed a woman that follows him. One that counts. Sometimes it is her face he sees, and when that happens, he takes the potions.
He remembers that terrible night when Lily Evans died, when his treachery to the woman he loved was paid for in blood and life. He remembers how he, distraught with grief, all alone in the dungeon and in the world, had pointed his wand to his forehead. It would have been so easy, just to unleash his power one last time as he had done so often before, and all the pain would be gone for good. But it had not happened. He had seen something that day that had made him hesitate. There had been a woman standing before him, asking him without words if this really was what he wanted, if this was the choice he had made. He had seen her for just a moment, only for the time it takes for an eye to blink, and then she was gone. In her place Albus had stood, asking him the same thing, and his wand had fallen to the floor, his powers never unleashed.
At the time he had believed that the woman that had stood before him had been the woman he had killed, or the memory thereof, but he isn't so sure of that anymore. She did not look like Lily, for one thing. In fact, she more resembled himself, with the somewhat striking difference that while he is ugly and revolting, the woman he saw had actually been quite pretty. He thinks of that woman sometimes, wonders if she really had been the woman his master has told him about, the enemy beyond all enemies. He suppose he should fight her with the same ruthlessness as his master does, but he can't bring himself to hate her in the same way as he hates almost anything else in the world. He remembers the expression in her face that day, how she had looked at him not with hate or disgust or fear or loathing, as so many others do and as he does himself. She had looked at him with concern, and something that almost resembled care, as if she really pitied him and felt for him. As if anyone would.
He still doesn't know the answer to her question, but he supposes that he will find out soon enough.
He can hear the sound of running feet in the corridor, steadily drawing closer.
The woman that follows Severus is his death. In the depth of his heart he knows it, and he knows that she will be there for him when he needs her - that she will be there to take him away from all the pain that he is inflicting on himself, when his time is finally due. He is thankful for it, and he is scared witless by it. Sometimes, he is even annoyed about it. Why should his death be anyone's business but his own? What is it to her? She smiles pityingly, as she watches him from her hiding place, just out of sight. She wishes she could get him to know her and to trust her, because she knows how much he longs to see her clearly and to understand what she really is. She has talked to him sometimes, but he rarely listens. He hides instead, in his hatred and in his grief and in his memories, and nothing she says can make him realize the fact that he still belongs to the world of colour, that he isn't dead yet and that all the pity and love and forgiveness he so desperately longs for is there for him, should he ever open himself up for it. She can only hope that he will realize it before it is time for him to leave.
A hope that is drawing fainter, as the time for her to perform her last duty is drawing closer. The running steps are louder now.
Severus sits by his desk in the dungeons, his wand lying on the bare wooden surface, close to his unmoving hand. All his papers are in order, his business conducted, his office ready to be taken over by whoever will fill his place after he is gone. He looks around the empty room, examining the windowless walls, the cleaned out shelves and the closed door with narrow eyes. Even if he had not expected anything else, he is actually somewhat disappointed. Now, of all times, he had hoped that he would have seen her, that he would have had time to exchange a few words with the woman who follows him, when he still has time for it.
"Are you coming?" he mutters, for his own ears as much as for her. But there is no answer from either of them.
He sighs and stands up, with his wand in his hand. And actually, as the door opens and the frantic Flitwick enters, he can see her quite clearly, standing next to him, smiling at him, friendly, slightly pitying. He bows at her, and as they leave, he holds open the door for her. Together they run through the corridors of Hogwarts, Severus and his death, towards the astronomy tower, both with their own duty to fulfil. They have no one in the world now, no one but the other. But still, somehow, Severus is not as lonely as he used to think he was.
The woman that follows him has no colours, and that surprises him. Severus has always imagined that his death would have red hair.