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The Nothing I've Become (Areas of Expertise II)	By : SickPuppy Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 18635 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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--Hi, sorry about the delay. I've only been back at work one week and have already got a frightening amount of work to do! Anyway, this chapter has actually been pretty easy to write, because anything you recognise belongs to JK Rowling.
-- And thank you to my reviwers, as always. I hope you like. SP

Chapter Twenty-Eight - And Save Me From the Dark

Hermione and Ron were making their way to the Head teacher's office. In her hands, Hermione held her wand and the galleon she had once used to summon Dumbledore's Army to meetings. Now, even as she ran, she was muttering under her breath, wondering what to put on the coins to best alert the group. After all, they hardly needed telling that Voldemort was in the castle ' they'd all heard his announcement.

Beside her, Ron ran too, wand held ready, sparks emitting from it occasionally as he gripped it too hard. 'What ... can ... the ... DA ... do?' Ron gasped, massaging at his side where a stitch was setting in.

'No ... idea,' Hermione panted, 'other than ... help ... protect ... the school.' They skidded to a stop near the bottom of the staircase; the Dark Lord had just appeared in the foyer, his minions around him. Carefully they cast spells to ensure his safety before he moved steadily through the space, making his way outside.

Ron suddenly drew a choked breath, 'How do we get into the office? It's got a password!'

Hermione gave a mischievous smile. 'The gargoyles like me; they'll let me in.'

Ron gaped stupidly at her, then shook his head in despair. 'I don't want to know.' He said, still shaking his head.

She hurried across the foyer and reached the stone figures. At once they moved, revealing the entrance to the office. With scarcely a pause to thank them, Hermione was through and rushing up the twisting staircase. The sight in the office itself made her gag.

Ron crashed into her back and she slipped on the thick red fluid coating the floor.

Ron's eyes widened as he too took in the scene. 'Oh … Merlin,' he groaned, clamping a hand over his mouth.

***

None of the Death Eaters moved. They were waiting: everything was waiting. Harry thought inexplicably of Severus, and his dark eyes, and the feel of those lips on his ...

Voldemort had raised his wand. His head was tilted to one side, like a curious child, wondering what would happen if he proceeded. Harry looked back into those red eyes, and wanted it to happen now, quickly, while he could still stand, before he lost control, before he betrayed fear ...

He saw the mouth move and a flash of green light, and everything was gone.

***

Hermione skirted around the blood on the floor, grimacing as her shoes stuck slightly to the stonework.

Nagini lay still on the floor, the tip of a blood stained sword showing through the thick green scales. Underneath was a mass of blood and black gore.

Or was it?

Swallowing down the bile, Hermione crouched down and looked carefully beneath the snake. The black gore was in fact black robes, crumpled and twisted. What Hermione had taken for a lump of chopped off flesh was in fact a hand, clamped over a bloody red mess.

'Snape!' she cried, and, ignoring the blood, scurried closer, kneeling at his side and pushing the huge dead weight of Nagini off him. The snake tilted, and slid off. At once Snape's other hand was exposed, holding the handle of Gryffindor's sword, holding it hard against his chest with what must have been the last of his strength. Hermione was suddenly aware that her cheeks were wet. She was looking down at a teacher who had tormented and ridiculed her, who had killed Albus Dumbledore, and she was mourning him.

Ron, standing by the door still, stifled a sob. 'Is he … Is he '?' he asked, voice cracking a little.

Hermione reached over and placed one shaking hand on his blood splattered face. With his eyes closed and his muscles relaxed, she finally understood what had made Harry love this man; he had his own inner beauty. She swallowed again, holding back more tears as she smoothed the black locks from his sticky face.

His face twitched.

'RON!' she screamed, and beckoned him frantically over. 'I … I don't think he's dead''

Hermione pried the stiff fingers away from the great wound and choked back more bile. 'What do we do?'

Ron looked green, but approached. His eyes were wide as he remembered his father being wounded by this snake. He coughed, the overpowering smell of blood making him feel nauseous.

'I ... I think I can help''

***

Harry lay face down, listening to the silence. He was perfectly alone. Nobody was watching. Nobody else was there. He was not perfectly sure he was there himself.

It came to him finally that he must exist, because he was definitely lying on a surface. Almost as soon as he came to this conclusion, he realised he was naked. It didn't concern him but it did intrigue him slightly. He wondered if he would be able to see. He opened his eyes, discovering that he had them, and took in the bright mist that surrounded him.

He sat up. His body appeared unscathed. He touched his face. He was not wearing his glasses any more.

Then a noise reached him through the unformed nothingness that surrounded him: the small, soft thumpings of something that flapped, flailed and struggled. It was a pitiful noise, but also slightly indecent.

For the first time, he wished he were clothed.

Barely had the wish formed in his head, than robes appeared a short distance away. He took them, and pulled them on. Fully clothed, he turned slowly on the spot, and his surroundings seemed to invent themselves before his eyes. He frowned slightly, it seemed familiar. A train station. King's Cross.

He spotted the thing making the noise and recoiled. He was afraid of it. Small and fragile as it looked, he was frightened and repelled by it.

'You cannot help.'

He spun around. Albus Dumbledore was stalking towards him, sprightly and upright, wearing sweeping robes of midnight blue.

Harry was amazed, but listened as Dumbledore explained everything to him. At times he was distracted by the thing's awful whimpers, but believed the older man each time he reminded Harry that help was beyond the creature.

At last, long hours, or as it only seconds? After they had begun, Albus had related everything. He looked sad when he discussed the Elder wand.

'You meant Severus to have it, then?' Harry asked.

'Yes.' Dumbledore answered simply. 'Poor Severus.' He sighed. 'Voldemort certainly made him pay.'

'Is he gone?' Harry asked, tears in his eyes. 'Is Sev ... dead?'

Albus made no reply. Instead, he pointed, with his whole, undamaged hands to the train waiting at the station.

Harry looked too, and saw a black robed figure seated by a window, watching him.

'Severus!' He cried, reaching up to board the train.

'HARRY!' Dumbledore's voice rang out. 'Once you board, the train will leave. It has only waited for you to decide.'

'But … but Sev!' Harry wailed. 'He can't go on. He can't!'

Albus said, 'It takes courage to live when everything you value has gone, Harry. Do you have that courage?'

Harry sobbed. 'I can't. I can't be left without him. I can't be left behind.'

He placed one foot on the step. The other remained, barely touching the platform.
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The Nothing I've Become (Areas of Expertise II)