Typical Disclaimers Apply

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Severus Snape stumbled blindly through the Forbidden Forest. Perhaps it had not been the brightest idea to jump out of the castle and fly as deep into the forest as possible. Well, originally it was a great plan; everyone thought he'd left and no one was coming after him. However, it was not such a great plan now that he had no idea where he was. Not too great.

Still he wandered, he wand illuminating the paths. Through the trees he could see the setting sun in the west. Gripping the necklace in his pocket, he set off north, in the direction of the castle. He pulled himself over a fallen log and into a small clearing. A man was there, examining something on the ground.

"Halt!" Snape barked, in his best commander voice. The man rose ands his eyes instantly narrowed.

"Snivellus," Sirius growled. "Where's my wife?"

"How should I know?" he snapped. "I would've thought she was with you."

Sirius shook his head solemnly, his eyes clouding over. "She went out to the front lines."

"The front lines?" Something in Snape's stomach shattered. For a second he thought he might faint.

"Yeah, something about fighting Lucius and Bellatrix."

"She never mentioned that to me," Snape whispered.

"Why would she?" Sirius snarled.

"Never mind," he looked at the ground. "What were you looking for?"

"Tonks—she shouldn't even be here—said she saw Firenze carry Esme into the forest. There are some hoof prints on the ground, I thought…"

"That doesn't sound like Esme," Snape said, sounding very far away. "She's never been the type to run away from trouble."

"Why do you care?" roared Sirius. Snape took a step back. "You deserted her. You hurt her. Hell, you nearly killed her!" He drew his wand.

"I saved her life," he snapped.

"If it weren't for you, she'd never have been hurt."

"You don't understand—"

"You deserve to die," he raised his wand to Snape's throat. Snape fumbled in his pocket, finally pulling out his own wand. The necklace fell to the ground, ignored.

"Sirius," he said calmly, "I'm not going without a fight, but I will not kill you."

"Really?" laughed Sirius, his eyes glinting murderously. "Because I have no qualms about killing you!"

"Please," he whispered. "You don't understand—"

"I will make you feel all of the pain you've caused my wife," he said icily, his silver eyes flashing maniacally. They dropped for a second focusing in on the necklace. "Where did that come from?" he asked urgently.

Snape lowered his eyes to the earth, "I must have dropped it," he mumbled.

"Why do you have it?" Sirius growled. "Did you take this from her? Do you know where she is? Where is she?" he roared. "Where's my wife?! What did you do to my…" His words faded as the blood left his face. As if someone kicked him in the backs of his knees, Sirius collapsed to the forest floor, gasping.

"Sirius?"

"They're coming," he whispered, his breath coming in short bursts. "Snape, you have to help me, I can't take them. Not anymore…" Then Snape felt the cold washing over him. He could hear someone screaming angrily in the background. People fighting… "Don't hurt her," Sirius was moaning. "Please, don't…"

"No," he whispered, as the hooded creatures began to appear. He forced his mind to focus. He and Esme, dancing at the Yule Ball, and she was smiling, safe and alive.

"Expecto Patronum!" he roared. It was the first time he'd gotten a good look at his Patronus, as it galloped off into the Dementors. He hadn't noticed it had changed. It still had the same markings as the doe, but it was larger, much larger. And fiercer too. But it was still delicate, still fragile. Something like a…horse. But not a horse. Before he could decide what it was, it had disappeared into the woods, chasing the Dementors away. Sirius rose to his feet.

"I can never fight them," he said bitterly. "Never again."

"Someone must have seen you go in. Or maybe they smelled the fresh blood. That means we must be close to the edge." He looked over at Sirius, "Go, find your wife. And give her this," he reached down and handed him the necklace.

"You…saved me," he whispered. Snape looked away.

"Just go." He could hear Sirius walking away. He stared down at the ground where the necklace had been, leaving a tiny imprint in the ground. He knelt down and wiped it away.

When he looked up there was a silvery tiger standing in the clearing, right where Sirius had been. It opened its mouth as if to roar, "Help," he heard Esme's voice. "I'm dying, please send help!" The Patronus turned around, but looked back at Snape, as if urging him to follow. He took a few tentative steps forward then broke out into a run after the tiger.

The tiger led him through the dense forest. He could hear that they were getting closer and closer to the edge. People were screaming. He could practically see the curses flying wildly. But when the tiger stopped, so did all of that.

The first thing he saw was a fallen centaur. Its beautiful limbs splayed over the earth. Resting on its side was something white, as small and delicate as a handkerchief, splotched with dark red smudges. The white disappeared into the black of dirty robes, mingling with long, dark hair. The hair caressed a pale face. White lips, cracked and stained with red; cheeks traced with scars; elegant black eyelashes, nearly touching her cheekbones. A fair jaw and a delicate throat looking as if it had been slit with a dull knife. All of it traced down into a slight chest, still as the night.

Snape knelt at the body and placed two fingers at the top of her fragile neck. Blood immediately soaked him. A beat, the pulse that forced the blood out of the cracks and onto his hand, sounded. With it, he felt the pulse of hope.

He pulled out his wand and pressed it to her throat. "Anapneo," he whispered. Breath flowed into her chest, but her eyes remained closed. "Rennervate," he whispered again, praying for a result. After a few long, painful seconds, her eyes fluttered open. She coughed softly, the blood dripping down her chin. "Here," Snape whispered. He raised his wand again and silently levitated the centaur off of her leg.

Esme forced a small, pained smile. "Severus," she murmured. "I knew you'd come."

"I'm not done." With another flick of his wand, she could feel the bones of her leg healing and coming together. He moved his wand over the rest of her body, closing the wounds. The gashes in her arms and hands surrendered to the spell, but her left leg still bled copiously and the sores on her abdomen and throat hadn't fully closed. Snape looked at the blood on her robes and closed his eyes. "We'll have to get you to the infirmary. Pomfrey sent for Mediwitches…"

"Severus," she murmured again.

"Esme," he said urgently, "I'm sorry if I hurt you, but I'm going to have to carry you." He laid one hand under her back and another under her knees and scooped her up. She cried out weakly, feeling like even more parts of her skin had been ripped open. "I'm sorry," he said again. They ran through the forest, jumping over fallen trees and twisted roots. They were reaching the edge; Snape could hear the sounds of people fighting. Someone screamed in the distance. Esme laid a hand on his face.

"Severus," she murmured, barely audible this time, "please." He looked at her, frightened, as though he'd never seen her before in his life. A crack in her hand had reopened, and blood trickled from her hand to his face. Blood stained her cheeks and her hairline. She coughed again, spewing more blood onto her hand and his front.

She was dying.

"Esme," he knelt to the ground and lay her down. "Oh, Esme, I'm so sorry. I should have…I shouldn't have…"

"Severus," she said once again. A tiny drop of rain fell on her nose, "It's raining."

"Yes, it is," he said kindly. It wasn't raining. He took off his cloak and wrapped it around her. She touched his hand. "Esme, I love you. I love you so much. Please, please don't…"

"Shh," she murmured. "I've made my choice. I made it a long time ago."

"No, please don't talk like that, Esme! I can Disillusion you! We'll get up to the castle, it'll be fine!" He stroked her hair. "You'll be fine."

"You're right, Severus," she whispered. "I'll be fine." She took one last look at the star-spotted sky, closed her eyes and leaned against his chest. He stroked her hair as she lay there for what felt like hours, her tiny, bloody chest rising and falling in time with his. Blood mingled with the dirt until you couldn't tell which was which. Esme looked up at Snape and smiled, before closing her eyes again. A tiny breath, holding all that she was and all that she ever had been, escaped from her lips, floating away like a lost spirit. Her body grew cold in Snape's arms. Her frail, white hand still rested in his, immobile and lifeless. She was gone.

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