Chapter Text
Cries of joy were mixed with cries of despair. Families huddled together to mourn the loss of their loved ones. They expected Harry to console them and the boy had no idea what to tell them. Those who weren't overcome with mourning, rushed to Harry's side to congratulate him, to touch the Chosen One, The-Boy-Who-Lived, the one who defeated Voldemort.
Harry was tired, he longed for the sole company of his closest friends instead of the crowd. He just wanted to lie down in his bed in Gryffindor's tower and sleep for a week.
''Potter! Potter!'' Minerva McGonagall called after him, pacing quickly in his direction. She must have finished putting tables in the Great Hall back to their places. Her voice was unnusually high-pitched for her.
Harry sighed, seeing he won't be able to rest as soon as he'd wished to. He expected his professor to have questions, even though he'd explained the majority of Dumbledore's plan before the final duel with Voldemort. He raised his eyes to look at the woman approaching him. Her hair was a mess and her glasses were slightly askew, but that was nothing out of ordinary – no one cared for their appearance in those circumstances. What drew Harry's attention was McGonagall's pale face and slightly trembling hands.
''Potter, ah, there you are!'' transfiguration teacher was taking a breath, running after her pupil had visibly exhausted her. ''Potter, Harry, tell me – is it true?''
Harry blinked, feeling as if he were Obliviated or Confunded and McGonagall was referring to some information that was erased from his memory. ''Wh-what is true, Professor?'' he blurted out. ''If you are asking about what I told Voldemort, then yes. I think the wand affirmed it recognises me as its owner when it refused to obey Voldemort,'' he rushed to offer his interlocutor an answer in hopes of being left alone for a while.
''Yes, but Severus...'' McGonagall hesitated. ''He was on our side all this time?'' Minerva was clearly struggling to believe that.
Harry nodded. ''It was all Dumbledore's orders. Without Professor Snape's help...'' he lost a track for a moment, maybe thanks to his fatigue, and thought of the locket and the silver doe. Then he noticed McGonagall furrowing her eyebrows and shook his head to wake himself up a bit. ''I don't think we would be able to win without his help.''
''I hope you don't mind asking me, Potter, but how do you know?'' now she looked more eager to find the evidence supporting the story than doubtful of its verity. ''Mere hours ago we fought Severus and chased him away.''
Harry had an idea of what she meant. ''He played his part well. He fooled everyone, Professor, both the Order and Death Eaters. I...,'' he turned his face not wanting to look into McGonagall's face when he reveals the origin of his knowledge. He swallowed and tried again. ''I was there when Voldemort killed him. He ordered Nagini to do it and Snape couldn't run away.''
''Professor Snape!'' McGonagall reminded strictly.
Harry nodded. He had made up his mind to honour Snape by finally calling him 'Professor' upon learning the truth, but as Harry was unused to doing so, it slipped his mind. ''Voldemort left and Professor Snape was lying on the floor with his neck torn. I don't know why, but I approached him and he-he gave me his memories. And then he died. And I finally saw the truth and knew what I had to do,'' Harry didn't know why he was spilling all those details. He just wanted to get out of his head the image of the man he had hated with such a burning passion bleeding on the floor in the Shrieking Shack. Another victim who sacrificed his life for Harry and the cause. He didn't want to hear his plea to look at him. Inspite of him turning his gaze away his eyes caught the sight of Minerva covering her mouth in shock and the tears welling in her eyes.
''Poor Severus!'' the woman had a lump in her throat.
Poor Severus, indeed, Harry thought and recalled Dumbledore pitying his spy. It was unfair the man risked his life on daily basis and finally lost it receiving no recognition but only contempt from the people he'd done it for, even if it had happened on his own request. Then again, it wasn't fair that many people, who didn't deserve to die, died that day.
McGonagall procured a handherchief and blew into it. ''Dear Merlin! All those years of putting his line on the line and I called him a coward!'' she lamented. ''Albus always trusted him. I shouldn't have doubted Albus' instinct. Oh, why I haven't trusted Severus as well!''
''Professor Snape knew the risk and the stake. He didn't want anyone to know the role he played'' Harry offered in hopes of lessening the guilt he saw building in his teacher, but his own treacherous mind replayed Snape yelling 'Don't call me a coward!'. No, Snape should never have been called that word.
McGonagall blew her nose again. ''Where is he now? We should lay him next to the fallen protectors of the Castle. That is where he deserves to be,'' she stated and Harry admitted ashamed in his mind that amidst the tumult he had forgotten of his ex-Potions and DADA teacher's body.
''The Shrieking Shack.''
McGonagall nodded in acknowledgement. ''Get some rest, Potter. Merlin knows you need it. I will take care of it.''
---
Minerva rushed towards the Shrieking Shack not telling anyone where she was heading. She was sure the school would manage just fine without her for the next half an hour or so. Her heart was beating anxiously, afraid of the view that awaited her there. She saw enough deaths on that day, enough bodies of her deceased colleagues and her students.
This matter, however, could not wait. Severus' body could not be left in the Shack to rot away. He deserved to be buried with honours amongst the fallen of the Light side, he deserved a speech on his deeds. McGonagall made a firm resolution honour Severus' memory. He had been a Slytherin, yet he had been braver than the majority of her Gryffindors.
She opened the door of the Shrieking Shack with a heavy heart. Her eyes quickly found the man covered in blood lying on the floor. His hands were slumped on the floor and his eyes were closed.
''Oh, Severus!'' Minerva knelt by his side uncaring if she stained her robe with his blood. With a trembling hand she brushed away a lock of his greasy hair from his morbidly pale face. ''I am so sorry,'' she sobbed. ''If only Albus had told me! I am so sorry,'' she repeated and tears were running down her face. ''You were the bravest of us all and you've never spoken a word of it. You sacrificed your life for our victory and you can't even rejoice with us over the war's end,'' she tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear and sniffed. ''I wish things had gone differently,'' she sniffed, but then something caught her attention – a droplet of blood running down Snape's mutilated neck.
Minerva stared strangely at the droplet. It wasn't dried, although it should have been. Hadn't Voldemort said he had killed Severus three hours ago? Hadn't Harry confirmed Severus' death? But dead do not bleed.
She carefully raised Snape's left hand. It was colder than usual human body temperature, but it wasn't stiff. On the contrary, it was limp. It was possible Severus' body hasn't entered into rigor mortis yet, but that couldn't explain fresh blood on his neck.
The conclusion has probably scared her even more than the anticipation of the sight of his dead body. She didn't want to give herself a false hope. Reluctantly she placed her hand over his chest. ''Severus!'' Minerva exclaimed in shock mixed with relief feeling his weak heartbeat and his laboured breath. Her relief quickly turned into worry. He's been lying here all this time! By all means he should have been dead by now. How much time did he have left? She needed to stop bleeding! She needed to get him to Madam Pomfrey urgently!
---
Severus Snape opened up his eyes. His own action took him by surprise, so he blinked few more times. Indeed, he was able to blink. He did not expect he would be able to do that ever again. Apparently, death did not mean an end of corporeal form. He was well aware what had happened: Dark Lord calling him to a meeting, the snake, the loss of all hope at the realisation he had failed his mission and then against all odds the boy appearing next to him. And the emptiness that was claiming him.
He didn't feel sorry for himself for dying. He had long known it would most likely end that way. Of course he wasn't actively seeking death like those hot-headed Gryffindors. He had anticipated Nagini's attack for quite some time. For the last few months before the meetings with the Dark Lord he would take the antidote Arthur Weasley had been given following the attack. One of the last important pieces of information he had been able to get from the Order. This only served to prove the extend of his own naivety. What good the antidote had been when he had bled out to death? He hadn't even had the time to close the wounds. Thanks Merlin he had at least managed to give the boy his memories. And by doing so he had failed Lily once again, sentencing her son to untimely demise.
''Severus!'' familiar voice called him and he turned his face to see Poppy's face. He furrowed his eyebrows confused. Was she dead too or this was his imagination?
''Poppy?'' he croaked out and felt a pain in his neck where Nagini's fangs had struck. He tried to sit up, but his body failed him. He groaned tiredly and closed his eyes again. It didn't make sense. Obviously death was a foreign land, but shouldn't it mean the end of physical pain? Maybe it was hell – that's where he deserved to be, after all. And what the hell Poppy Pomfrey was doing here? He opened up his eyes again and this time he noticed the ceiling above his head. It looked like the one in the Hospital Wing. No, something wasn't right.
''Severus, can you hear me?'' Poppy asked.
Severus run his hand down his face irritated by his own confusion. ''Yes, Poppy. I can,'' he answered considering asking her what in Merlin's sake was going on?
Poppy smiled. ''Oh, splendid! We were all so worried about you. You were comatose for a week! I was starting to worry we wouldn't be able to wake you up.''
Snape narrowed his eyes looking at the healer. ''Comatose?'' He refrained himself from asking if it meant he was not actually dead, not wanting to appear more ridiculous than he already felt. Besides, there were more important information to discuss than his vital status. ''Dark Lord?''
Madam Pomfrey looked at him disapprovingly. ''I don't know why you still insist on calling him by that name,'' she scoffed. ''It makes you sound as if you were one of them.'' Severus did not have the strength to argue that he was a bearer of the Dark Mark, making him 'one of them', although it took him by surprise she sounded as if she didn't believe that to be true. Everyone knew Severus Snape was Dark Lord's servant! He made sure of that. ''Lord Voldemort is no more,'' she stated straightening her back and raising her head proudly.
''So we won?'' the spy asked quietly, his confusion and tiredness alongside Poppy's strange demeanour making him forget for a moment to hide his true loyalties.
''Yes, Voldemort and his Death Eaters were defeated,'' Poppy sounded offended he made her repeat herself.
Severus furrowed his eyebrows again, wondering why she immediately assumed he had meant the Light side by 'we'. So Potter was dead, he felt his body slump. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. I'm sorry Lily. I know it changes nothing, but I regret things have come to this, he thought. Her sacrifice was for naught. What worth was the victory in the end, when there nothing remained of her, not even the extruciatingly infuriating boy?
''Ah, that's enough for now – I can see you are tired,'' she tutted. ''I have to inform our Headmistress you are awake. Minerva will be glad to hear it. It was her who found you in the Shrieking Shack.'' With a quick flick of her want she produced a glass of water. She put it on the bed table and helped Severus sit up. ''There,'' she carefully handed him the glass of water. ''You must be parched.''
Only taking a sip Severus felt how much his lips were dried. ''Thank you, Poppy,'' he spoke in a coarse voice and coughed.
Madam Pomfrey helped him lie down and excused herself, pointing out other patients required her attention as well.
Severus stared at the ceiling, trying to wrap his head around the concept of him surviving Nagini's attack. And why the hell Poppy was so friendly? Shouldn't she want him dead for killing Dumbledore and betraying the Order and the school? There was no way she could be aware of his true allegiance. Apparently Minerva survived the war as well. Good, she would take a good care of this school. Maybe she would come to talk to him and finally explain him what the hell was going on.