One-Shot: How It Really Ended (Severus Snape, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Minerva McGonagall)
Title: How It Really Ended.
Characters: Severus Snape, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Minerva McGonagall
Author: a_silver_story
Genre Humour, Resurrection
Rating: Suitable for most, but with one or two bad swear words (ommmm)
Warnings: None really. Just the swearing.
Disclaimer: If I owned anything in this, I'd be a rich rich rich bitch. However, I am not a rich rich rich bitch so you may all, therefore, assume I own nothing. Which I don't. It all belongs to JK Rowling, in case any of you didn't know.
Summary From "and Snape moved no more"
... and Snape moved no more ...
Harry hugged the jar of memories to him and Hermione had begun silently sobbing. He could vaguely hear the sound of rats scratching nearby and the wind rustling the leaves as they brushed against the shattered windows.
"What's that?" said Hermione suddenly, pointing at Snape's neck. Harry frowned.
"Hermione. He just got bitten by a fucking snake. Be more observant!"
"I am being observant! On the other side of his neck! It looks like a tattoo ..." She moved towards the still form of Severus Snape and pulled back the top of his high-neck. Underneath, in a stylized scrawl, there was, most definitely, a tattoo. She began to unfasten the many small buttons of his jacket and linen shirt, pulling them both back to reveal the words: "I'd Die Happy If I Drowned in Ogden's Old Firewhiskey" emblazoned across his shoulder and collarbones. Harry and Hermione smiled. "I've got Firewhiskey in my bag." she whispered. "Accio Firewhiskey!"
Several bottles of the finest Firewhiskey Hermione had been able to lay her hands on shot gracefully out of the little beaded bag. She carefully unscrewed the top of one, gently opened Snape's mouth and poured a generous amount down his throat. "There you go Professor. You got your dying wish! Also, if he's not dead, the effort of pretending to be dead with a respirotry system full of Ogden's would surely enough kill him." she laughed. Evil cow. She screwed the bottle shut again and placed it with the rest next to Snape's left hand.
"We have to get back to Hogwarts." said Harry. "I don't know why, but I know that I have to see what Snape's final thoughts were. I have a feeling ..." he trailed off.
"Have a feeling about what?" asked Hermione.
Harry shrugged. "Just a feeling." He rose to his feet and Hermione followed. With one last look at Snape, they slipped under the Cloak and began to make their way to Dumbledore's office.
Five minutes later Snape shot bolt upright, shaking and spitting Firewhiskey everywhere. He panted, taking in his surroundings. His eyes rested on the bottles of Ogden's, and he smiled to himself. He was lucky. Very very lucky indeed.
There was a battle going on at Hogwarts. He could hear the sounds of it from the Shrieking Shack. There were booms and screams and explosions and the ground kept shaking at the most inopportune moments. Twice he spilt from his bottle. He was not amused. Suddenly, a cheer went up, and the sound of the Dark Lord's voice pierced the night proclaiming Harry Potter dead. Bugger, thought Snape. This means I've got to do something, doesn't it?
He staggered to his feet, whiskey in one hand, and managed to locate his wand. He shoved a box of something aside and half crawled, half slithered his way back down the secret passageway and back to Hogwart's grounds. The way was dark and bumpy, and not spilling from his half empty bottle of Firewhiskey was becoming more and more difficult. He could hear cries and shouts up ahead, and wondered just how many were left on either side. If Potter was dead, it didn't really matter what side he was on anymore. The winning one definitely seemed most appealing right now. He'd figure out which side that was when he got out of this godforsaken hole.
Snape knew his priorities. He poked his head out of the mouth of the tunnel and checked his surroundings before carefully placing his bottle on the soft earth. From this spot beneath the Whomping Willow, he could see quite far. There was no one around. They were all on the front lawn, it seemed. He could just about make out Hagrid holding Potter above his head, making his way towards the school, and a large mass of Death Eaters with Voldemort at their head. Students and teachers were stood in protective lines at the castle steps, some were in tears, others were howling and others looked dazed and confused.
He carefully lifted himself out of his hole, making sure the Willow was suitably frozen and as undangerous as it could be, picked up his trusty bottle and began to make his way towards the fray. Potter was dead! He almost felt like singing. Unfotunately, his senses were somewhat affected by the half a bottle of Firewhiskey now circulating his somewhat thinned bloodstream and the "almost" part of the "felt like singing" didn't quite make it to his brain. Before he knew what was happening, he'd launched into a rather tuneless rendition of "Danny Boy".
Oh Danny Boy! *hic*
The pipes, the *hic* pipes are cawwwwlinggggg!
The Death Eater crowd silenced at the sound, and Voldemort let out a squeak of indignation. Whether at the the fact Snape was alive or the fact that he was singing a Daniel O'Donell classic, no one was entirely sure.
The Summer's gone and all the roses fowwwwwlllldinnnnnggggg *hic* sang Snape.
He decided to take advantage of the shock of his appearance to the event to take in his surroundings. Even Potter had sat up to take a look.
Stoopid Potter. He was supposed to be dead. All the happiness drained out of Snape via his boots. Stoopid, stoopid Potter. He ruined everything. Couldn't he have just done him the favour and died? Even his father had managed that ... Stoopid James. Stoopid Harry. Stoopid Potters ...
Voldemort was nose to nose with him now. Ah well, thought Snape. I'm probably a dead man anyways ... plus I don't actually know all the words to this song ....
He felt the breath of the Dark Lord on his face, took a long swig of Firewhiskey, inhaled deeply and brought what he could remember of the first verse to its climax:
Oh Voldy-mort, Oh Voldy-mort I love you soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
....and all went black.
Snape awoke several hours later in the Hogwarts hospital wing to find Granger, Minerva and Stoopid Potter all sat around his little iron bed. To make things worse, he had a killer of a hangover. He looked at them all blearily.
"Guess you won then?" he said without much conviction.
"Yes, Severus. We won!" smiled Minerva. "And all thanks to you!" Before he could protest, she'd enclosed him in an iron-cast embrace. "You're a war hero! You!"
Snape scowled. "Should I point out I'd have been a winner no matter which side won?" Granger, Minerva and Stoopid Potter No. #2 exchanged dark looks. "I rest my case." he said, reaching for his pitcher of Pumpkin Juice. His three visitors were watching him intently. His scowl deepened. "What?" he asked irritably.
"How did you survive?" squeaked Granger, her hands over her mouth. He raised an involuntary eyebrow.
"I don't really remember. I believe I was unconcious for the bulk of the war."
"Not the war, silly!" Granger again. The involuntary eyebrow involuntarily crept further up his forehead. Being called 'silly' by Granger was more of an insult than anyone would ever know. "The snake bite!! How did you survive the being bitten by Nagini! When we left you, you were dead!" His other eyebrow joined the involuntary one at the base of his hairline. He carefully rearranged his features into a smirk.
"When I agreed to become a teacher," he began. "I pretty much signed up for AA." he paused as Minerva nodded sympathetically and Granger and Stoopid Potter exchanged incredulous looks. "Thanks to dunderheads like you, Potter, and that god-awful Longbottom, I began to drink Firewhiskey. I began to drink Firewhiskey a lot. I never meant to be 'cruel' in my lessons. I just had really bad hangover and you lot all got on my wick." Potter snorted at that statement. Stoopid Potter lived up to his name.
"I drank so much for so long, that my blood began to mutate. Instead of producing normal blood plasma, my body began producing only red and white cells. The amount of whiskey I was drinking was enough to substitute for the regular plasma matter. It was impossible for me to go too long without Firewhiskey or I'd die. Whoever poured Firewhiskey into my mouth in the Shack gave me the equivalent of a Severus Snape blood transfusion, well, enough of one to resuscitate me for a short amount of time so that I could pour some alcohol into my wound and directly, if not partially, replenish some of the lost whiskey from my veins."
"But," said Granger. Ahhh great, the know-it-all. "That's not even possible! - is it?"
"Clearly, it is. This is fanfiction, after all."
"But when the snake bit you ... your blood spurted out red!"
"Firewhiskey is semi-transparent, as is blood plasma. Put enough red blood cells into it and it becomes a similar colour, though the consistency would be a little weaker. Hence, the blood 'spurting' further than normal blood might."
Granger mimed an 'Oh', accepting the theory. Snape turned to Minerva. "What happened after I passed out?"
"Well," she said. "You-Know-Who thought you'd succumbed to your injury, you were that still and your breathing was really shalllow, so he left you there to die. After that, everything pretty much played out as it did the the Book."
"What Book?" asked Snape, frowning.
"Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, available at all good book stores for a reasonable price." chipped in Granger.
He smiled and nodded as best as a Severus Snape could smile and nod. "Hmmmmm." he wondered. "I wonder where I'd fit into the epilogue...."
~*~ WAVY LINES. WAVY LINES. SMOKE AND WAVY LINES. ~*~
Nineteen Years Later
Harry married Ginny. They had a kid called James, a kid called Lily and another kid they wanted to call Albus Severus, but eventually conscience kicked in and they decided to give him a sensible name.
"Now Seveharedlahathalon." said Harry quietly. "A friend of mine was a Slytherin, and he was the bravest man I ever knew."
"My ears are burning!" said a slurred, drunken voice from behind them.
"Remember," whispered Harry. "Was the bravest man I ever knew ..."
~*~ WAVY LINES. WAVY LINES. SMOKE AND WAVY LINES. ~*~
The Hospital Ward
Snape, Minerva, Granger and Stoopid Potter were crowded around a copy of "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows".
" 'A slurred, drunken voice'?" snapped Snape. " 'A slurred drunken voice'? Nineteen years from now, I'm an alcoholic???"
"You're an alcoholic now." pointed out Granger. He ignored her.
"What else does it say about me??"
The four people scanned the remainder of the Epilogue.
"It says ... there ..." said Stoopid Potter, pointing at a page. "It says you give up teaching and marry Sinistra."
Snape read the paragraph over. "Marry SINISTRA???" he violently threw the book across the ward and folded his arms. "Snapey no likey."
The other three blinked. "What??" they exclaimed in unison.
"Snapey. No. Likey."
The others looked at each other.
"End the fanfic." said Snape. But the author ignored him.
"End it. Now." Still the author managed to ignore him.
"Please. End the fanfic. Or alter it so that I end up with someone with a little more plot background."
No.
"You know you want to, really."
No. I don't want to, really.
"Please."
No.
"Please."
No.
"I'll scream."
No you won't. I won't let you. I have the words. I have the power. I have the evil laugh. Muahahahahahahaha!
"I'll tell my Mum on you!"
Do you want me to get J.K Rowling to beta this fic?
Snape went pale.
Didn't think so.
Fin
Characters: Severus Snape, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Minerva McGonagall
Author: a_silver_story
Genre Humour, Resurrection
Rating: Suitable for most, but with one or two bad swear words (ommmm)
Warnings: None really. Just the swearing.
Disclaimer: If I owned anything in this, I'd be a rich rich rich bitch. However, I am not a rich rich rich bitch so you may all, therefore, assume I own nothing. Which I don't. It all belongs to JK Rowling, in case any of you didn't know.
Summary From "and Snape moved no more"
... and Snape moved no more ...
Harry hugged the jar of memories to him and Hermione had begun silently sobbing. He could vaguely hear the sound of rats scratching nearby and the wind rustling the leaves as they brushed against the shattered windows.
"What's that?" said Hermione suddenly, pointing at Snape's neck. Harry frowned.
"Hermione. He just got bitten by a fucking snake. Be more observant!"
"I am being observant! On the other side of his neck! It looks like a tattoo ..." She moved towards the still form of Severus Snape and pulled back the top of his high-neck. Underneath, in a stylized scrawl, there was, most definitely, a tattoo. She began to unfasten the many small buttons of his jacket and linen shirt, pulling them both back to reveal the words: "I'd Die Happy If I Drowned in Ogden's Old Firewhiskey" emblazoned across his shoulder and collarbones. Harry and Hermione smiled. "I've got Firewhiskey in my bag." she whispered. "Accio Firewhiskey!"
Several bottles of the finest Firewhiskey Hermione had been able to lay her hands on shot gracefully out of the little beaded bag. She carefully unscrewed the top of one, gently opened Snape's mouth and poured a generous amount down his throat. "There you go Professor. You got your dying wish! Also, if he's not dead, the effort of pretending to be dead with a respirotry system full of Ogden's would surely enough kill him." she laughed. Evil cow. She screwed the bottle shut again and placed it with the rest next to Snape's left hand.
"We have to get back to Hogwarts." said Harry. "I don't know why, but I know that I have to see what Snape's final thoughts were. I have a feeling ..." he trailed off.
"Have a feeling about what?" asked Hermione.
Harry shrugged. "Just a feeling." He rose to his feet and Hermione followed. With one last look at Snape, they slipped under the Cloak and began to make their way to Dumbledore's office.
Five minutes later Snape shot bolt upright, shaking and spitting Firewhiskey everywhere. He panted, taking in his surroundings. His eyes rested on the bottles of Ogden's, and he smiled to himself. He was lucky. Very very lucky indeed.
There was a battle going on at Hogwarts. He could hear the sounds of it from the Shrieking Shack. There were booms and screams and explosions and the ground kept shaking at the most inopportune moments. Twice he spilt from his bottle. He was not amused. Suddenly, a cheer went up, and the sound of the Dark Lord's voice pierced the night proclaiming Harry Potter dead. Bugger, thought Snape. This means I've got to do something, doesn't it?
He staggered to his feet, whiskey in one hand, and managed to locate his wand. He shoved a box of something aside and half crawled, half slithered his way back down the secret passageway and back to Hogwart's grounds. The way was dark and bumpy, and not spilling from his half empty bottle of Firewhiskey was becoming more and more difficult. He could hear cries and shouts up ahead, and wondered just how many were left on either side. If Potter was dead, it didn't really matter what side he was on anymore. The winning one definitely seemed most appealing right now. He'd figure out which side that was when he got out of this godforsaken hole.
Snape knew his priorities. He poked his head out of the mouth of the tunnel and checked his surroundings before carefully placing his bottle on the soft earth. From this spot beneath the Whomping Willow, he could see quite far. There was no one around. They were all on the front lawn, it seemed. He could just about make out Hagrid holding Potter above his head, making his way towards the school, and a large mass of Death Eaters with Voldemort at their head. Students and teachers were stood in protective lines at the castle steps, some were in tears, others were howling and others looked dazed and confused.
He carefully lifted himself out of his hole, making sure the Willow was suitably frozen and as undangerous as it could be, picked up his trusty bottle and began to make his way towards the fray. Potter was dead! He almost felt like singing. Unfotunately, his senses were somewhat affected by the half a bottle of Firewhiskey now circulating his somewhat thinned bloodstream and the "almost" part of the "felt like singing" didn't quite make it to his brain. Before he knew what was happening, he'd launched into a rather tuneless rendition of "Danny Boy".
Oh Danny Boy! *hic*
The pipes, the *hic* pipes are cawwwwlinggggg!
The Death Eater crowd silenced at the sound, and Voldemort let out a squeak of indignation. Whether at the the fact Snape was alive or the fact that he was singing a Daniel O'Donell classic, no one was entirely sure.
The Summer's gone and all the roses fowwwwwlllldinnnnnggggg *hic* sang Snape.
He decided to take advantage of the shock of his appearance to the event to take in his surroundings. Even Potter had sat up to take a look.
Stoopid Potter. He was supposed to be dead. All the happiness drained out of Snape via his boots. Stoopid, stoopid Potter. He ruined everything. Couldn't he have just done him the favour and died? Even his father had managed that ... Stoopid James. Stoopid Harry. Stoopid Potters ...
Voldemort was nose to nose with him now. Ah well, thought Snape. I'm probably a dead man anyways ... plus I don't actually know all the words to this song ....
He felt the breath of the Dark Lord on his face, took a long swig of Firewhiskey, inhaled deeply and brought what he could remember of the first verse to its climax:
Oh Voldy-mort, Oh Voldy-mort I love you soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
....and all went black.
Snape awoke several hours later in the Hogwarts hospital wing to find Granger, Minerva and Stoopid Potter all sat around his little iron bed. To make things worse, he had a killer of a hangover. He looked at them all blearily.
"Guess you won then?" he said without much conviction.
"Yes, Severus. We won!" smiled Minerva. "And all thanks to you!" Before he could protest, she'd enclosed him in an iron-cast embrace. "You're a war hero! You!"
Snape scowled. "Should I point out I'd have been a winner no matter which side won?" Granger, Minerva and Stoopid Potter No. #2 exchanged dark looks. "I rest my case." he said, reaching for his pitcher of Pumpkin Juice. His three visitors were watching him intently. His scowl deepened. "What?" he asked irritably.
"How did you survive?" squeaked Granger, her hands over her mouth. He raised an involuntary eyebrow.
"I don't really remember. I believe I was unconcious for the bulk of the war."
"Not the war, silly!" Granger again. The involuntary eyebrow involuntarily crept further up his forehead. Being called 'silly' by Granger was more of an insult than anyone would ever know. "The snake bite!! How did you survive the being bitten by Nagini! When we left you, you were dead!" His other eyebrow joined the involuntary one at the base of his hairline. He carefully rearranged his features into a smirk.
"When I agreed to become a teacher," he began. "I pretty much signed up for AA." he paused as Minerva nodded sympathetically and Granger and Stoopid Potter exchanged incredulous looks. "Thanks to dunderheads like you, Potter, and that god-awful Longbottom, I began to drink Firewhiskey. I began to drink Firewhiskey a lot. I never meant to be 'cruel' in my lessons. I just had really bad hangover and you lot all got on my wick." Potter snorted at that statement. Stoopid Potter lived up to his name.
"I drank so much for so long, that my blood began to mutate. Instead of producing normal blood plasma, my body began producing only red and white cells. The amount of whiskey I was drinking was enough to substitute for the regular plasma matter. It was impossible for me to go too long without Firewhiskey or I'd die. Whoever poured Firewhiskey into my mouth in the Shack gave me the equivalent of a Severus Snape blood transfusion, well, enough of one to resuscitate me for a short amount of time so that I could pour some alcohol into my wound and directly, if not partially, replenish some of the lost whiskey from my veins."
"But," said Granger. Ahhh great, the know-it-all. "That's not even possible! - is it?"
"Clearly, it is. This is fanfiction, after all."
"But when the snake bit you ... your blood spurted out red!"
"Firewhiskey is semi-transparent, as is blood plasma. Put enough red blood cells into it and it becomes a similar colour, though the consistency would be a little weaker. Hence, the blood 'spurting' further than normal blood might."
Granger mimed an 'Oh', accepting the theory. Snape turned to Minerva. "What happened after I passed out?"
"Well," she said. "You-Know-Who thought you'd succumbed to your injury, you were that still and your breathing was really shalllow, so he left you there to die. After that, everything pretty much played out as it did the the Book."
"What Book?" asked Snape, frowning.
"Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, available at all good book stores for a reasonable price." chipped in Granger.
He smiled and nodded as best as a Severus Snape could smile and nod. "Hmmmmm." he wondered. "I wonder where I'd fit into the epilogue...."
~*~ WAVY LINES. WAVY LINES. SMOKE AND WAVY LINES. ~*~
Nineteen Years Later
Harry married Ginny. They had a kid called James, a kid called Lily and another kid they wanted to call Albus Severus, but eventually conscience kicked in and they decided to give him a sensible name.
"Now Seveharedlahathalon." said Harry quietly. "A friend of mine was a Slytherin, and he was the bravest man I ever knew."
"My ears are burning!" said a slurred, drunken voice from behind them.
"Remember," whispered Harry. "Was the bravest man I ever knew ..."
~*~ WAVY LINES. WAVY LINES. SMOKE AND WAVY LINES. ~*~
The Hospital Ward
Snape, Minerva, Granger and Stoopid Potter were crowded around a copy of "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows".
" 'A slurred, drunken voice'?" snapped Snape. " 'A slurred drunken voice'? Nineteen years from now, I'm an alcoholic???"
"You're an alcoholic now." pointed out Granger. He ignored her.
"What else does it say about me??"
The four people scanned the remainder of the Epilogue.
"It says ... there ..." said Stoopid Potter, pointing at a page. "It says you give up teaching and marry Sinistra."
Snape read the paragraph over. "Marry SINISTRA???" he violently threw the book across the ward and folded his arms. "Snapey no likey."
The other three blinked. "What??" they exclaimed in unison.
"Snapey. No. Likey."
The others looked at each other.
"End the fanfic." said Snape. But the author ignored him.
"End it. Now." Still the author managed to ignore him.
"Please. End the fanfic. Or alter it so that I end up with someone with a little more plot background."
No.
"You know you want to, really."
No. I don't want to, really.
"Please."
No.
"Please."
No.
"I'll scream."
No you won't. I won't let you. I have the words. I have the power. I have the evil laugh. Muahahahahahahaha!
"I'll tell my Mum on you!"
Do you want me to get J.K Rowling to beta this fic?
Snape went pale.
Didn't think so.
Fin