Dying to Live Title: Dying to Live Author:winoniel Pairing: none Rating: G Word Count: ~850 Warnings: none Summary: Severus tries for his next great adventure. A/N: Written for prompt: #1: 1001 Ways To Fake Your Own Death. Thanks to Sageful for the beta. They all belong to JKR, I’m just letting them grab my imagination for a few hours.
Severus lay frozen on his back, lying in a pool of congealed blood. The potions had worked and he'd managed to survive the attack by Nagini, though only barely. However, he felt only a little stronger than a corpse. Now, he thought dully, to safety. Grabbing the third button of his robes, he painfully whispered, "Activate."
Spinner's End was still the dingy, shabby site of his childhood, though he'd created a slightly more livable atmosphere in the past few years. As Severus stumbled into the parlor, he recognized that there was no possible way that he could attack the narrow, steep staircase to reach the bedrrom. A thick cloud exploded upwards when he threw himself on the worn sofa. However, before the dust had a chance to settle back on the threadbare velveteen upholstery, as well as the weary man's clothing, hands, and face, his eyes were closed, and he was solidly asleep.
~*~*~*~*~ Severus allowed a grim smile of satisfaction to flit across his face as he scanned the Daily Prophet. In the confused aftermath of the final battle, no one had thought to look for him for several days, finding the dried blood where he’d been attacked, but nothing else. By that point, it was thought that a Death Eater had taken his body for some nefarious purpose, and after some desultory searching, inquiries into the whereabouts of the body of Severus Snape had been officially closed. He was now free: free of protecting Golden Boy-Wonders and their hangers-on, free of teaching recalcitrant teenagers who seemed to live for the chaos that they could cause, free of oaths made to Dark and Light Overlords, dead childhood friends, and distraught mothers, and most importantly, free of penance and obligations and atonement. As long as he stayed away from the wizarding world, he was safe.
His smile stiffened as he gazed at the article next to that which had listed those missing after the Battle of Hogwarts. The picture accompanying it was that of a diffident Harry Potter with his arm around the Weasley girl, ducking the cameras with a gentle smile. The caption was idiotic, Severus thought: “Boy Who Lived to Defeat He Who Must Not Be Named Settling Down?” Figures, he snorted, Potter was following in his inane father’s footsteps—marrying the redheaded classmate, getting married right after finishing school, going into the Auror training program. Could the boy have even one original thought about his life? ~*~*~*~*~ Over the course of the next few weeks, Severus grew more and more irate, though he honestly couldn’t fathom why. He knew it had to do with the continuing media circus surrounding Harry Potter and his decisions about his future. However, Severus wasn’t sure if it was the adulation being heaped on the twit, the self-satisfied, smug expression on the brat’s face in the many pictures, the almost imperious way in which the Weasley bint seem to attach her claws to the little idiot in those same pictures, or just the sheer normalcy that the two seemed to portray that almost made his teeth hurt.
Whatever it was, Severus thought, he hadn’t sacrificed so much over the years so that Harry Potter could—could what, exactly? Could live a normal life without the threat of a Dark Lord constantly hovering? So that Lily’s boy could overcome the loss of his parents and the life he should have led had Severus not informed the Dark Lord of the prophecy? Give up the life of a hero to become a rather average young man with his girlfriend?
Severus sat down heavily, his thoughts careening about furiously. Harry Potter was living the life that both Severus and Albus had professed to want for the boy. It appeared the Boy Who Lived was moving on, as were the rest of his sycophantic little cadre, as was the rest of the staff at Hogwarts, and as was magical Britain in general. It was not healthy for Severus to supposedly eschew life in the wizarding world, yet still obsessively read the news or continue to fixate on Harry Potter.
Severus balled up the parchment and tossed it into the tiny fireplace. He had no time to continue to read about a life he’d left behind. There were plenty other things that he wanted to do today. First, he was going up to the high street and order some new, modern furniture and some new, modern clothing. Then he was going to get the utilities connected in the house. No more candles, parchment, quills, or robes.
Severus Snape— wizard, potions master, former Death Eater, spy, rival of Gryffindors in general and Potters in particular—was dead. Severus Snape, chemist newly employed by a fast-rising new pharmaceutical company, newly returned to his old family home, newly healed of a nasty cut to his throat, and newly arrived in the re-energized world of Stockport, outside of Manchester, was ready to start the living he’d postponed for so many years.
He could now live his own life, and he would live his own life. Starting right now.