I was born amidst the purple waterfalls.
I was weak, yet not unblessed.
Dead to the world. Alive for the journey.
One night I dreamt a white rose withering,
a newborn drowning lifetime loneliness.
I dreamt all my future. Relived my past.
And witnessed the beauty of the beast
Where have all the feelings gone?
Why has all the laughter ceased?
Why am I loved only when I’m gone?
Gone back in time to bless the child
How can I ever feel again?
Given the chance would I return?
Why am I loved only when I’m gone?
Gone back in time to bless the child
Think of me long enough to make a memory
Come bless the child one more time
I’ve never felt so alone in my life
As I drank from a cup which was counting my time
There’s a poison drop in this cup of Man
To drink it is to follow the left hand path
Where have all the feelings gone?
Why is the deadliest sin – to love as I loved you?
Now unblessed, homesick in time,
soon to be freed from care, from human pain.
My tale is the most bitter truth:
Time pays us but with earth dust, and a dark, silent grave.
Remember, my child: Without innocence the cross is only iron,
hope is only an illusion and Ocean Soul’s nothing but a name…
The Child bless thee keep thee forever
Nightwish
Severus watched as Death gave him a look of pity, turned in her robes the colour of wild poppies, and dissolved.
Perhaps next time, my dear.
Alice O’Reilly: The Elysian Key
Hogwarts, 2 May 1998
„I have sat here all this long night,“ Voldemort said, his voice barely louder than a whisper, „and on the very threshold of victory, I have thought, and thought again, about why the Elder Wand refuses to be what it should be, why it refuses to serve its rightful master as the legends say it should… And I believe I have found the answer.“
Snape stayed silent.
„Perhaps you already know it too? You are clever, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant to me, and I regret what must happen.“
„My Lord—“
„The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not truly its master. It belongs always to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore, Severus. As long as you live, the Elder Wand cannot truly be mine.“
Snape looked even paler than usual, but said nothing.
„You’re silent. So you yourself admit there is no other way,“ Voldemort went on. „I must master that wand, Severus. If I master the wand, I will finally master Potter too.“
And Voldemort traced a great arc through the air with the Elder Wand. A cage holding a snake flew through the air, and before Snape could do anything but cry out, his head and shoulders were trapped inside it, and Voldemort spoke in Parseltongue.
„Kill.“
Hermione heard a dreadful scream, and a moment later, a dull thud as the body hit the wooden floor.
„I regret it,“ Voldemort said coldly.
Then they heard nothing but retreating footsteps. Hermione wanted to do something, needed to do something. But she couldn’t move. Was it a dream, or was it real? Harry stood beside her, looking equally petrified.
„Harry!“ she whispered, knowing it was up to him now. . But Harry had already pointed his wand at the crate separating them from the dying man. The crate rose silently a few inches off the floor and slid aside, and Harry pulled himself up into the room as quietly as he could. Hermione followed him in silence.
Harry approached the bleeding man, threw off the Invisibility Cloak, and after a moment’s hesitation, bent down beside him. Snape seized the front of his robes and pulled him closer.
A ghastly, rasping, gurgling breath tore from his throat.
„Take it… Look… at it…“
Something more than blood was leaving Snape’s body. Silvery-blue threads streamed from his mouth, his ears, his eyes. Harry looked lost, unsure what to do with them.
Hermione pushed a vial she just conjured into his trembling hand, one she had conjured. Harry used his wand to draw the silvery substance into it. When the vial was full to the brim and Snape looked as though he had no blood left in him at all, the hand gripping Harry’s robes went slack.
„Look… at… me…“ he whispered, and closed his eyes. His hand fell heavily to the floor. Snape’s breath was fading, almost imperceptible now.
Hermione knelt beside Harry.
„Go,“ she whispered urgently. „Do what he’s telling you. There’s nothing more to be done here.“
Harry ran off. Tears began rolling down Hermione’s cheeks. She hated this man. And yet she knew that without him, she would not be alive.
„Live,“ she whispered, „you must live.“ Tears fell onto Snape’s face, onto his throat, onto the wound left by Nagini’s fangs. Hermione noticed the wound had stopped bleeding. She ascribed it to the fact that Snape had already lost all his blood, that he was dead. There was no breath to be felt; his face was deathly pale but calm, his eyes closed. He looked as though he were asleep.
She had no sense of how long she sat motionless beside him. She took his hand — it was cold, but it didn’t feel like the hand of a dead man to her. She leaned closer. Was she imagining it, or was he really breathing, faintly?
„Elevatio corpi,“ she said, with a wave of her wand. Snape’s body rose, and Hermione set off toward the castle with it.
Continue to: Birth of the Wicked
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