Harry, hidden beneath his invisibility cloak, as Voldemort swished his wand and Nagini’s enchanted sphere rolled through the air to encase Snape’s head and shoulders. The snake-like man spoke a single word, his red eyes gleaming in pleasure as he ordered his most faithful servant’s death. Snape would hear only the malicious, sibilant hiss, Harry knew and that seemed unfair in a primal sort of way. Surely the man had the right to understand that final pronouncement of his fate? The great serpent reared back and struck like lightning, her gleaming fangs sinking deep into the man’s throat to sever his carotid artery and release her deadly toxins into his bloodstream. Harry watched, his emotions a confused knot churning in his gut, as the man’s black eyes went wide with pained surprise and his knees gave out beneath him.

“I regret it,” said Voldemort coldly. As the vile creature turned away, a quick flick of his wand bringing his pet to float along after him, there was no sadness in his expression, no trace of remorse for the latest atrocity he had committed. It was then, as Harry watched his former professor fall sideways onto the dirty wooden planks, unmoving as the blood gushed from the twin punctures in his neck that Harry knew. It was something in the dark man’s eyes, a hint of triumph even as he lay dying on the filthy floor of the Shrieking Shack, which betrayed his true loyalties. A death eater would never lay there dying alone in silence with that gleam in his fevered eyes.

As the Boy-Who-Lived crept out of his hiding place, Snape reached up to press his fingers against the wounds as if in some vain attempt to staunch the bleeding. It made Harry’s heart clench in his chest, seeing this futile last ditch effort, because he could still see those wide black eyes and it was clear that his heart wasn’t in it. Resignation, acceptance, relief, all these emotions shone from once unfathomable obsidian orbs and Harry nearly choked at seeing them. He didn’t know how it could be, after all he’d seen Snape cast the curse that killed Dumbledore himself, but this man had never strayed from the light. In his very soul, Harry was sure of it.

Moving quickly, the boy hero ripped the cloak off letting it pool on the ground behind him as he approached the dying man. He wasn’t sure, precisely, why he was doing it. There was nothing he could do to save the man and he was relatively sure that Severus Snape would not want him of all people there in his final moments, but he could not stop his feet from carrying him to the man’s side even if he’d wanted to. Tears stung his eyes, despite the hatred that had burned in his chest at the very thought of this man only minutes before, as he knelt at the man’s side.

Snape looked up at him, surprise overtaking those other dreadful emotions and it doubled as Harry gently lifted the older wizard’s upper body to lean against his chest. His most hated professor’s head lolled against his shoulder with his chin tilted up so that their eyes met. There was a horrid, rasping gurgle as the man tried to form words and Harry shushed him softly.

“I don’t know why you had to do it, but I know you’ve always been Dumbledore’s man.” The raven haired teen said gently. Snape’s eyes clenched shut for a moment before he looked back into the shining emerald eyes of the child whose life he’d always tried to make miserable. His cold, pale hand reached out and captured Harry’s own, squeezing tight. There was something indefinable in his deep, onyx gaze but Harry thought it might have resembled gratitude.

“T-take i-it.” The dying man forced out as a shudder passed through his too thin frame. The silvery substance which was neither gas nor liquid began to pour from the man’s eyes and mouth. The released memories drained out of his ears and bled out his nose. The sight was both captivating and horrific and it was only out of instinct that Harry conjured a vial to store them, so enthralled was he by the strange occurrence.

When the memories stopped coming and they’d all been safely secured in the conjured vial, Snape had paled a few degrees more. It looked as if more than just blood and memories had slipped away. There was something more, something essential that had been robbed from the man. The hand that had been griping his own slackened and the man drew in a ragged breath.

“H-Har-ry…look…at…me…” the man all but pleaded, his voice a mere whisper. Emerald eyes shining with unshed tears met barely focused black orbs for a moment and for the first time in seven years, Harry saw Severus Snape smile. An instant later all emotion was extinguished from those obsidian depths leaving them dull and empty. The body in Harry’s arms went limp as the man’s final breath was released and Severus Snape lived no longer.

Harry didn’t know how long he stayed there on his knees, the lifeless body of his professor held gently against his thin chest. The tears that had been stinging his eyes now rolled down his pale face, tears for the loss of another life and for the unbelievable sacrifice of the man in his arms. It didn’t matter that he did not understand how Snape could have been on their side because Harry was certain that he always had been and that made Severus Snape a hero in his eyes, a hero and the bravest man that he had ever known. It was only when that high, cold voice began to reverberate from every direction that Harry lay the body gently on the floor. Then, with a last glance back at the fallen warrior, Harry went off to meet his destiny.