He should have known something was wrong when there was no pain.
Considering that his last conscious memory had been of lying face down in the mud outside of the castle, his own blood being washed away by the interminable Scottish rains, it really should have hurt. Quite badly. One does not, he reflected, normally feel... well normal, not after multiple Cruciatus' and having ones entrails nearly removed by a sword. From experience with the former - the latter being something that was rarely a repeatable event - he knew that no matter how long he had been unconscious, he should have felt the residual aches, the muscle spasms, the bruises left by repeatedly slamming ones own limbs into the ground. Instead he felt fine; better than fine, actually, better than he could remember having felt in years. The healer who worked upon him must be a Master of the arts.
He savored the feeling for a moment, the soft surface he lay upon, the comfortable warmth, the overwhelming sense of peace and relaxation. But only for a moment; Severus was not by nature a peaceful man, and all too soon his irrepressible curiosity began prodding him to get up, to find out what had happened, to learn who had won the final battle. He assumed that the Order must have carried the day, given his current condition, but assumptions weren't the same as explicit knowledge. And so he gave in with a slight sigh, and opened his eyes.
Then immediately closed them again.
"It's no use, Severus," an amused voice spoke from beside him. "Time to wake up."
"I hardly need you to tell me that, Lupin," the Potions Master responded in a petulant tone, attempting to will himself back into unconsciousness.
The amusement became an outright chuckle. "Someone apparently needs to."
"Not you," Severus muttered darkly. "You are dead. I saw you die myself."
"Got it in one," Remus replied, voice gentle.
Severus paused for a moment, then opened his eyes, a frown creasing his face. "I assure you I have no need of a ghost ordering me about." The frown deepened. "Although you look remarkably solid for a ghost."
"I'm not a ghost, Severus. Well, not exactly," the werewolf continued, tone still soft. Remus reached out, touching Severus' hand with his own. The flesh was firm and warm, completely solid.
The dark haired wizard did not flinch from the touch, but his eyes widened for a moment before closing again, this time accompanied by a groan of understanding. "Bloody hell. I assume, then, that I am dead as well? Oh, this is truly wonderful. I should have known..."
The werewolf's hand stroked his soothingly, and Severus didn't want to admit that the sensation was... comforting. Oddly so, given their history, but he was too rattled by his realization to disdain anything that helped anchor him.
After a moment, Severus opened his eyes once more, then sat up, glancing around suspiciously. He - and Lupin as well - were seated on a low platform with a soft top. It was not precisely a bed, but a more like a raised dais, comfortable but otherwise unremarkable. It was completely white, as was the ground. In fact everthing faded to whiteness, a distant blur, no walls or floors or anything in evidence as far as the eye could see. It was emptiness. Nothingness. It reminded him of nothing so much as a blank canvas before the artists raises a brush to give it life. Except for he and the werewolf, there was not a spot of color to be found.
The dark gaze turned to Remus. "So. You are dead. And I am dead. You said you are not a ghost, therefore I assume that I am not one either?" Severus shook his head. "Where are we, then?"
Remus smiled reassuringly. "A sort of place between. A waiting place. A place for you to sort things out before going on."
Severus looked suspicous again. "Going on? To where, precisely?"
"To where you are supposed to go," the werewolf said quietly. "I have been sent to help you."
The Potions Master blinked at that. "You? Why you? And you could not have died more than ten minutes before I did, so how..."
"Time has no meaning here, Severus," Remus explained. He squeezed the other man's hand. "And as for why me... Well, I asked to do it. As part of my, er, reward, so to speak."
"Reward?" Severus snorted slightly. "I should have known. You went to Heaven, or whatever it is, correct? No doubt a place entirely full of annoying Gryffindors, prattling on incessantly about how they chose the 'right' side!" The sarcasm covered a small pang that Severus didn't want to call fear. "Have you come to gloat, then? Your reward for being a martyr is to see old Snivellus off to the fiery pits, have a nice afterlife, don't forget to write?"
The grip on Severus' hand tightened for a moment, before Remus sighed. "No, Severus. Yes, I did go to 'Heaven', if that is what you wish to call it. Ascending to a higher plane, achieving Nirvana, whatever you wish to call it. I was given a choice there. I could be reborn back on Earth, basically cashing in my Karma for a chance at the life I was denied before. I could stay in 'Heaven', become one with the cosmic whole, or... well, words can't describe it, precisely. Or there was a third option, which is the one I chose, and is why I am here with you now."
"Third option?" The Potions Master raised a sardonic brow in inquiry. "Do you care to explain?"
"I will in a moment," Remus replied. He smiled once again, a gentle expression Severus had seen countless times, unmarred now by any scars, uncreased by any wrinkles. In fact, Severus realized with a start, Remus looked very much as he had as a teenager. There was only the barest hint of silver strands in his honey-toned hair; his body, rather than gaunt, was again slim and strong and youthful, and there was a flush of health on the cheeks that Severus had last seen gaunt with worry and fatigue. He looked... radiant. Young. Beautiful.
Severus blinked once more, this time in surprise. Lupin had been passingly attractive in later years, but the effects of his curse and the unkindness of the years had stolen from him the almost ethereal attractiveness he had once had, much the way that Azkaban had left Sirius Black a shell of his former self. Lupin had ever had the mainstream handsomeness that Black had possessed, but there had always been something almost otherwordly about him, a fey beauty that had hidden behind shy looks and quiet ways and a spill of honey-gold hair across his face. A beauty once again in evidence, and bolstered this time by the confidence of an experienced man rather than hidden by the uncertainty of a boy.
And Severus had forgotten how, once upon a time, that beauty had made his heart race.
"You have a choice to make as well, Severus," the werewolf was saying, and the Potions Master pulled himself up sharply, realizing that he had been leaning towards the werewolf, staring into the amber eyes as the years had been stripped away.
"A choice?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. "And what, pray tell, is that?"
Remus squeezed his hand once more, before releasing it and standing. Severus was surprised at how bereft he suddenly felt at the loss of that simple touch, and he stood as well, facing Remus, eyes dark and wary.
"What we can do after death is, of course, directly influenced by what we did in life," Remus explained softly.
Guilt - the guilt he had lived with for years, which had driven his quest for redemption - suddenly crashed down on the Potions Master. He knew he was not a good man. In fact, he had never really tried to be good, although he had tried to do what was right - or at least he had once he realized what right was. But no doubt it wasn't enough, not nearly enough to entitle him to the level that Lupin had attained. And, despite the curse of Lycanthropy, Severus knew that Remus was, truly a good man. A caring man. One who had made mistakes but moved through them, trying his best to help others. Yes, if there was a Heaven, certainly Lupin was entitled to it.
"Am I going to Hell, then?" he asked quietly, suppressing the sinking feeling in his gut.
"No, Severus, nothing like that!" Remus spoke quickly. He placed his hand on Severus' shoulder, smiling slightly. "You don't give yourself nearly enough credit for what you have done. Your methods are not mine, but other than your dreadful tendency to be insulting and bossy, you aren't a bad person, Severus. You made mistakes, but then, we all did. We all do."
The tension in Severus eased slightly, both from the words, and from the feel of the hand on his shoulder. Surely if Lupin were good, he wouldn't lie. And if Severus were that bad, certainly Lupin would not have been able to bear to touch him. "I see," he answered quietly, although he wasn't quite certain that he did. "Well then. What are my choices?"
Remus smiled. "You have two. The first is to go back to earth, to be reborn with another chance to - for lack of a better word - get it all right. To redress the remaining issues that you have, to grow, if you will. So that when that life ends, you, too, could be offered the chance to ascend higher. You have probably been offered this choice many times in the past, as have I, but you can't consciously recall them right now. Nor is it truly important."
The Potions Master considered that. A chance to go back. To do it all over again. To do the things he hadn't done, perhaps to be the person he probably should have been had not circumstances driven him into the direction that they had. He really had learned a great deal, lessons taught in pain and tears and regrets that he would bear... for eternity?
"What is my second choice?" he asked, heart hammering.
"Your other option is to remain here. 'Here' being a sort of in between place. It's the space that the Hogwarts ghosts occupy for most of the time - time being a different thing for them than it is for living people. You would still be Severus Snape, with all your knowledge, your awareness of self, but... that is all you would ever be. You would no longer grow, evolve, or really change. Your effect upon the living - or the dead, for that matter - would be limited. It is not a joyless existence by any means, but you need to be aware that if you choose it, that is the last choice you will get in the matter."
"Last choice?" Severus echoed. He knew the ghosts, and it wasn't a cheerless existence, or one even entirely without purpose. He would remain himself, always, not having to take the risk of getting things wrong get again, of facing another life filled with mistakes and pain. He would not suffer, and he could spend his time forever harassing the students and snarking at the faculty. Severus smirked slightly at the image of himself haunting Slytherin House, leaving terror in his wake. No, it was not an unattractive option, to be himself forever.
But he paused, looking closely at Lupin again. "Was that your third choice as well? To become a ghost?"
The werewolf - former werewolf, Severus acknowledged with a jolt of surprise - shook his head. "No, it wasn't."
"Then what?" Severus snapped, suddenly impatient. "If this is a game..."
"No game, Severus, I swear it." Remus sighed. "I simply can't tell you about my choice until you make yours. Once you do, I promise I will explain everything."
Still suspicious, Severus gave the other man a doubtful look - but really, what choice did he have? He paused for a long time, thinking over everything. Weighing the options. Remaining Severus Snape, with all the baggage that implied, or risking everything he was and had ever been on a chance to become... more? To ascend to this higher plane? But if it was such a desirable thing, why had Lupin turned his back on it?
He wasn't certain how long he stood in contemplation, but surely it didn't matter, if time meant almost nothing here as Remus had claimed. He could still feel the werewolf's hand on his shoulder as he withdrew into his own mind, trying to make a choice that seemed impossible to make. Was there really any reason to go back? Did it really even matter? What was there left for him to experience except more pain?
Severus sighed, pulling himself out of his reverie, having made his choice. He gazed into Remus' eyes, into the face that had once caused his breath to catch, and now, amazingly, did so again. He looked into the amber depths and saw something there, something that called to him, touched him on a level he could neither fathom nor explain. It was merely there, and Severus realized with a jolt that there was something he had not experienced. That he had, in fact, disdained as worthless. Something that, gazing into Remus' eyes, he now wanted with an intensity more powerful than any he could ever recall. The one thing Severus Snape had never had.
Love.
"I want to go back," he was startled to hear his own voice saying. He wasn't aware of having changed his mind in between opening his mouth and speaking the words, but he apparently had. And when Remus smiled - a joyous smile that lit his face like the sun - Severus was thankful to whatever part of himself had overruled his head and bade his heart to speak.
"I'm so glad," Remus murmured. He pulled Severus into a warm embrace, and then pressed his lips to Severus' own in a kiss that felt like absolution. A kiss which quickly deepened into something more, a hungry passion that blazed through them both with a force and power like nothing Severus had experienced before.
Then it was over, and Remus was pulling back to look at him, eyes dancing. "I'm so proud of you, Severus. I knew you could do it!"
"What did I do?" the Potions Master asked, still dazed. The connection he had felt to Remus was suddenly more powerful, almost overwhelmingly so, and he felt as though his own arms around Remus' waist were all that was keeping him on this feet.
"Made the right choice," Remus murmured. "Or rather, the best choice, in my opinion. The choice that I had hoped that you would make."
"But... why?" Severus murmured. He shook his head slightly, trying to clear his mind. "Why does my choice matter to you? Have you not already achieved whatever high and mighty ascension thing this seems to be about? Why am I important?"
"Because you are important, Severus," Remus said, chuckling in a way that understated the happiness in his eyes. "Very important - more so than you realize. You see, my third choice was to do whatever you decided to do, which is why I couldn't tell you that, not before you had freely chosen on your own." He paused, gently cradling a palm against Severus' jaw, and Severus' breath hitched at the depth of emotion he read on Remus' face. "You felt it, or are feeling it, although it's been so long for both of us, and your mind doesn't remember what your heart does."
"I am... important to you?" Severus asked slowly, as though afraid that voicing the feeling would cause it to disappear. When had he ever been important to someone? So important that they would stake their eternity on his decision? It was incomprehensible, and he couldn't seem to wrap his mind around the concept.
"That is an understatement," Remus murmured, dropping another soft kiss on Severus' lips. "Yes, I was offered the choice of ascending, and I turned it down. How could I accept, when you wouldn't be there? Don't you see, Severus? You're my soul mate. How could I think of any place as Heaven if you aren't in it?"
Then Remus kissed him again, and Severus felt as though he had finally found the answer to every question he had ever asked.
"Ravenclaw!"
The black-haired boy hopped down from the Sorting Stool, face flushed pink at the applause which greeted the Hat's announcement. Quickly he darted to the cheering table, his black eyes looking cautiously at the people who would be his housemates - his friends, the most important people in his life - for the next seven years. It was a daunting prospect, but he faced it as bravely as he could. There were always his books to withdraw to if he couldn't find human acceptance, after all.
"Hullo, I'm Rhys," a friendly voice said from beside him, and he looked up into a pair of golden eyes that sparkled with good humor. A lock of sandy brown hair fell across one of those eyes, and the boy who had spoken brushed it back impatiently before holding out his hand. "Rhys Llewellyn. Isn't it brilliant? I wanted Ravenclaw so much, because I love to learn and read."
"I'm Sotiris Seavers," the black-haired boy replied. He stared to the proffered hand for a moment, before cautiously reaching out to take it. They shook hands solemnly, and then Rhys chuckled.
"Wicked! We can be friends! I can't wait to get started with classes," Rhys chattered on, ignoring the ongoing sorting, and Sotiris listened, fascinated with the open friendless of the other boy, whose flushed face and dancing eyes were so different from his own pale features. "I'm looking forward to charms and transfiguration, but I'm dreading potions."
"I like potions," Sotiris replied hesitantly, as though afraid that his newly made friend would snarl or laugh. But Rhys only smiled wider, if that were possible.
"That's terrific! You can help me with potions, then, and I'll help you with... well, anything you need help with. It's great to find a best mate so quickly!" Rhys nodded emphatically, reaching into a pocket and pulling out a small, foil-wrapped rectangle. His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, and he leaned closer to Sotiris. "They'll be about this for ages, and I'm starved. Would you like some chocolate?"
Sotiris paused for a moment, uncertain - his mother never allowed sweets before dinner - but then Rhys looked up at him again, holding out a piece of the candy. There was something in those golden eyes that seemed to touch him, to offer a form of acceptance that he had never experienced before in his life. It was almost frightening in a way, the intensity of it, and his breath caught for a moment in something very close to fear.
But only for a moment. He reached out, taking the offered bit of chocolate, and placed it on his tongue where began to melt, sweet and rich and perfect, enhanced by the slight naughtiness of doing something that he knew his mother would not approve of. He caught the grin on Rhys' face, and then the other boy dropped him a wink; it was at that moment that he began to suspect that this was only the beginning of the adventures his new friend was going to lead him into.
Strangely enough, he suddenly found himself quite looking forward to the experience.
FINIS
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