AN: Thank you everyone for your support. The encouragement I have gotten from reviews and comments have been so valuable. Please let me know how you liked this story and especially this ending. I realize that I've veering slightly off of canon here, but with some plausible deniability if you would like to stick strictly to canon in your head you may. Enjoy.

Snape was dead. Or, at least he would be soon. His work was at an end, and now it was time for the peace of the afterlife to engulf him. Or at least he hoped there would be peace, he hoped that he would finally feel as if he'd done enough to find that peace. His feet and hands were numb already, and he could feel some of the numbness spreading to his cheek and lips, Yes, it wouldn't be long now.

His work, yes, that was at an end. He had managed to protect as many Hogwarts students as he was able, and undermined Voldemort's power at every turn. He even managed to pass on the information he had been hoping to share with Harry before he died, and now he could be at peace about that. He had faked his death at that point, because he knew there was no other way for the boy to leave him alone and do what he had to do. Brave Gryffindors wouldn't leave anybody dying, even if it meant losing the war. Snape had already sacrificed far too much to let that happen, and faking it was not difficult; he was near death anyway. He had seen that boy's eyes, so much like his mother's and then slipped away for a few moments. He hoped that Neville would be able to do what he needed to do as well.

Ah, Neville. The thought of the boy stirred something deep inside of Snape that he hadn't felt before. Was it paternal feelings? He wasn't sure, but he could hardly escape the feelings of warmth and pride whenever he thought of the youth. He hoped the lad wouldn't think too unkindly upon him, after his death. Yes, he admitted to himself. In death I should be honest at least. I felt like a father to that boy.

Snape had been disarmed, his wand taken. He could try a potion that he had tucked in his robes, but even if he was at full health with his entire potion collection at his disposal, he knew it would be a crapshoot at best. Soon he would either die from exsanguination or from the effects of the venom, but death would come soon enough. He had done his part, the rest was up to others.

Snape had no idea how long he lingered in such a state, floating between life and death. He had thought it would be an easy thing to let go of his life and pass over into the peace, but apparently his body was fighting back, even without his wand. His magic was trying to repair, to staunch the blood, to rid the poison. But he knew it was hopeless. Eventually his magic would fail and his body would then cease to function. Death was not unwelcome, it would at least save himself very uncomfortable questions about his war activities. That is, if the good side won.

"Professor Snape!" he heard Neville's voice.

Was that really him or was hallucinations part of the venom? Blood loss could also possibly cause hallucinations, couldn't it?

"Professor! Are you alive?" he heard Neville's voice pierce the fog.

"Neville . . ." he said, and then stopped himself. Even a hallucination should have the dignity of being called Mr. Longbottom.

"Poppy can't help you," Neville told him. "There's no time, and she's with others. Hold still, sir."

This hallucination was bossy.

"Luna! Over here!" his hallucination called.

"You found him!" Luna's hallucination responded.

Well, at least these were students he liked. It would be awful if he hallucinated Ron Weasley.

"He's dying," he heard Luna announce. "It was a snake, look at the marks on his neck."

"Well, I got that snake at least," Neville announced, a note of pride in his voice. "With the Sword of Gryffindor, just as you said I should. So Harry could take the bad guy out."

Snape smiled in spite of himself. It was nice to have his hallucinations show his fondest dreams, it was tidy that way. He could die happy.

"Here, get these down his throat," Neville directed Luna. "It's a broad antidote, a blood replenisher, and a wound healing potion. Do them in that order, I'll work on the spell."

Snape glowed with pride, the boy was carrying potions with him. And look, the potions even tasted how they should. This was certainly a vivid hallucination; he didn't remember ever being able taste something in a dream before.

Then, Snape heard the sing-song spell being cast over him. Vulnera Sanentur, he recognized it. It was his own spell, and the spell he had taught Neville. Now it was being used on him. It could work, he recognized in a detached way. If the caster were strong enough and passionate enough. Was Neville strong enough?

The first time the charm was sung, he felt the blood trickle slow. The venom had interfered with blood clotting, and the healing spell was countering that. The replenishing potion was starting to work by this time as well, and he could feel some of his strength return.

The second pass cleans the wound, Snape remembered. He could feel the venom being sucked out of his wounds, and he could feel his magic being able to attack the venom left in his blood. Maybe some of that antivenom that Neville had given him was working too. Did that potion use a bezoar? His mind drifted to that first class with Harry . . .

The third pass knits the wounds, Snape told himself as he heard Neville incant it. He could feel the skin on his neck begin to close and to heal. The healing potion augmented it, and he began to feel as if his body might recover.

Then, he realized that he could still slip away. If he were going to go, this was the time to do it. No worries, no fuss. The hallucinations wouldn't care.

"Don't go!" he heard Neville desperately plead with him. "Don't go! We need you here, professor. Please stay."

"It needs to be his choice," Luna told him softly.

"I don't accept that!" Neville growled at her. "Don't you dare leave me, Professor! You are needed! Now come back! You have no idea how much I endangered my life during the battle, and if you did I wouldn't be sitting for a week! A month! Now come back!"

The command had been given so forcefully that Snape reacted and took a deep intake of breath. His lungs hurt from the breath, and he snapped, "Give me a pain potion. Really, you should have thought of that before."

Snape heard his hallucination laugh incredulously at his snarky reply. Really, was this what the afterlife was like? Snape, not having the energy to even open his eyes, felt the pain potion pressed to his lips and he drank. His muscles loosened and he felt the pain recede, and he took a deep breath. He had a feeling he was going to like the afterlife.

The End.