A Conversation between Death and Severus Snape
pain
the only thing that registered was pain
burning
throbbing
nausea
He couldn't breathe
Then vibrant green, his sisters eyes; Harry's eyes.
The pressure from Harry's hands on his throat, the wet slide of blood that would inevitably stain the boys hands.
A split second decision, he wanted Harry to know him, know them; He deserved to know his family, and while he couldn't give him anything about Potter Sr., he could give Harry his childhood with Lily. He could give Harry /context/, context for both their childhoods, he could share what that damn fool Dumbledore told him; The order to kill him for he was dying anyways. He could give him a fighting chance against the Dark Lord, let him know that he was a Horcrux as he deserved to know.
(What he really deserved was to be a child, and not a symbol for the whole of the British Wixen society who placed their expectations on the small shoulders of a babe, or a container for a maniac's soul, but there was nothing Severus could do about that.)
So he did, he told Harry to take his memories in the form of tears. (He couldn't remember the last time he had cried.)
And hoped, prayed to an entity he wasn't sure he believed in, that it would be enough.
He couldn't help let the words slip. "Look..at..me." He wanted to see the boy young man one last time.
He could feel the pain slipping away.
He could feel himself slipping away.
One moment, he was looking at Harry's face, frantic and desperate; The next he was at spinner's end.
No, not spinner's end, this place was all white. Severus turned slowly looking around, everything was exactly as he had left it, but, white.
He knew it wasn't heaven, but it wasn't hell either. It was somewhere in between, he wondered what he was doing here, there had to be a reason for him being here.
As if summoned by his thoughts, Harry was there. For a single moment, he could feel his heart shattering, everything he did and yet it wasn't enough, Harry had still died.
The next moment didn't piece it back together, but it put a pause on the hurt, for this was not Harry.
The being in front of him looked amused, a slight smile to its lips.
"Hello, Severus." The being said, its voice reverberating through a place so deep within him it could only be his soul.
Severus had been a triple agent for 18 years, one did not live between two masters while being loyal to a third without being paranoid and cautious of every move he made.
"Hello." A breath. "Who are you and why do you look like, that?" A hand waved to encompass the beings, body, he supposed.
He could take a guess, but confirmation was always better than hypothesis'.
Severus could see the amusement in the being's eyes, "My darling, I know you know who I am, but I also know you won't believe it until I speak aloud the words you wish to hear."
He couldn't help the twitch that came from hearing the saccharine words directed at him.
darling. (How long had it been since he had been someones darling, he was once Lily's, he was sure the being knew that.)
"I am Death, or the closest personification of the concept to exist anyways." The words felt like they had floated through the air, moving from the beings lips to Severus' ears.
Hypothesizing and having confirmation were two different things.
"And the, likeness, to Harry?" Severus couldn't help but repeat the question, he wanted answers and not even a being as powerful as Death could stop him from trying to get them.
"Hadrian Potter, is my descendant, my so called /genes/ are strong, most of my line bears a striking resemblance to me." Death chuckled, "I feel it pertinent to mention that he is also Master of Death, it does not mean what most people think it means, he has no control over me; It simply means we walk hand in hand, it means he has my protection, and for being my descendant he also has my love."
Severus blinked.
once.
twice.
three times.
"Descendant." The word tasted strange on Severus' tongue, a descendant of Death, no wonder the likeness was so uncanny, will wonders never cease when it comes to the chosen one. He couldn't help but shake his head as he laughed, Harry would never stop surprising him, even in death the young man was miraculous.
A thought occurred to him, "Through the Potter family or the Evans?"
The smile on the face of the being was tinged with sympathy, "I'm sorry, darling, through the Potter family, they descend from the Peverell's which is my family line."
If he had taken a single moment to think, Severus is sure he would have figured that out, Harry looked so much like Potter Sr., but for one shinning moment, he had hoped it was Lily's bloodline the descendancy had come from.
The only reply Severus could give was a hum, he walked around the being and took a seat on the familiarly worn couch.
"How did Harry come to be the Master of Death, I know the tale of the three brothers, but as far as I was aware the only Hallow he had at the time of my death was the cloak?" The lilt of his voice betrayed his curiosity. He knew that magick existed, as a wixen he couldn't refute its existence, even if he thought of it more as applied science than an actual mystical unknowable energy. However he had assumed the tales in fairy tale books for children, were just that, fairy tales. More fool him for assuming, he thought he knew better than that.
Death took the seat farthest from Severus while still being on the same couch, Severus knew the being could sense his wariness. He would not apologize for the same instincts that kept him alive throughout the first war and the majority of a second one.
"Our Beloved Hadrian, was already Master of Death at the time of your demise, darling, though he did not know it yet as he became so in the most convoluted of ways." Death's amusement and fondness for its descendants luck was warm and laced into every word.
The conversation that followed was not something Severus would have believed if it wasn't about Harry and hadn't come from Death itself. As it was, Severus didn't know if he could find it in himself to be surprised, especially about his own inadvertent role in helping Harry gaining the elder wand.
Severus had known that there was much going on behind the scenes that he was not privy to, but the small taste he was being given felt like it barely scratched the surface. He supposed he could ask Death for more details, but that wasn't the most pertinent thing on his mind.
"Why am I here?" The question left his lips before he was conscious of his decision to ask.
It wasn't that he didn't want to be here (Wherever here was.) and learn this information, but the question remained; There had to be a reason, not necessarily a good or logical one, but there was always a reason.
"In this life, Harry Potter does not meet his end in the forbidden forest."
Before he knew what had happened, Death had conjured up an image not unlike a projector, in it he could see the Dark Lord and Harry in a duel, Voldemort's Avada Kedavra hit true and Harry crumpled to the ground.
Severus' breath caught in his throat, before he remembered Death's words, this was not the end for Harry. He watched as Cissa was sent to check if Harry was truly dead, she was there longer than necessary and Severus' knew she could only be asking after Draco. A moment later, she declared Harry dead and Hagrid is forced to carry his body back to Hogwarts per Voldemorts orders. He watches as Voldemort and his followers march back to the only home Severus has ever known.
Severus observes as Neville Longbottom pulls the Sword of Gryffindor out of the Sorting Hat and beheads the Maledictus known as Nagini, moments later Harry disappears presumably under the Cloak of Invisibility, only to come back to cover Neville when the Dark Lord becomes angry and tries to kill the boy. He watches as Harry duels Voldemort and eventually rebounds the killing curse sent his way with an expelliarmus, then the image fades into smoke that floats away.
"In this life, Harry Potter dies by overdose of Amortentia." Severus' breath hitches but Death continues, it holds up its other hand and a new projection begins.
One Ginerva Weasley is making tea in the early morning light, she steeps it with careful consideration, and adds milk and sugar one would assume to Harry's preference, before adding in Amortentia from a dropper, she stops at one drop, seems to reconsider and drops in 10 more.
Severus' eyes are closed before he knows it, his head in his hands. One drop is enough to maintain a subtle infatuation, two to four will bring it closer to obsession, but upwards of five guarantees the consumers death. He had thought he taught the dangers well in his class but it appeared not. Though he didn't think Ginerva capable of such a thing either, so it seemed his judgement was off to some extent.
He forces himself to go back to watching the projection, in it, Ginerva carries the cup of tea to what could only be an older Harry Potter. He appeared to be in his late twenties or early thirties, stubble on his face, hair just as disheveled as always, though it appears he had hit a growth spurt in his late teens for the man before him stood well above six foot.
His smile was one of a besotted man, they looked like Potter Sr. and Lily, the thought brought an unpleasant shiver down his spine and a twinge to his heart. Harry happily drank the tea before going about his work day, it seemed the man had become an Auror. Curious.
From what he had known about the man, he would have been better suited to the work of a professor of Hogwarts, he would have enjoyed it more as well. This Harry looked determined but resigned to the life he lived, it made Severus ache for he knew this was not Harry in full control of his facilities. After his long day at work he came home late in the afternoon, it looked like the man was trying to inhale all the information he could before he would force himself to sleep, some of the titles he saw surprised him.
' The History of British Magick for Dummies: From Merlin to Grindelwald '
' A History of Magick around the World '
' The Sacred 28: What makes them so sacred '
' Magickal Gifts from Around the World: From Parselmouth's to Megamorphmagus' '
' The Gentleman's Book of Etiquette and Manual of Politeness: A Complete Book for the Use of Wixen in British Society '
' A History of Necromancy '
' The Nightshade Guide to Necromancy '
Before he knew it, he was watching Harry get ready for bed and slide in beside his wife. He felt more than saw Harry depart from the world of the living, his being felt like it simply knew he was gone, and the visual cue's he saw only confirmed it.
Harry was a restless sleeper, tossing and turning only to come to a sudden stop out of nowhere, his whole body went lax. This image went away same as the last.
Severus' mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton, he was struck with grief for this life that was suddenly lost, this was not the future he had died for, yet here he was dead and now so was Harry.
"You are here, darling, because I want to give you a choice." Death it appeared was also mourning the loss of its descendant from the mortal plane.
"Would you like to see him, Severus? He would like to see you, he can tell you of the choice I am offering." Death's voice was a gentle caress.
Except there was no choice, was there.
Not really.
He had given his service to two opposing masters in an impossible war, but his loyalty had always lain with Harry. At first it had been with Lily and her child, but as time had gone on, it was for Harry himself not as an extension of his sister.
His loyalty still laid with Harry, whatever choice he made Severus would follow.
"Yes. I want to see him." Severus knew his words came out a mere whisper, just as he knew that no matter if he said the words allowed or kept them in his mind, this being could hear them.
He saw the being put out its hand, he could do nothing but lay his atop.