The Last Goodbye.

Set after Snape has been ousted as a spy for Voldemort, but before the war is over. Angst, charater death, you\'ll probably need the kleenex. I own nothing you recognise.


Severus Snape cursed as he struggled with the muggle contraption, praying, as he plugged the errant wire back into its wall socket, that it would work.

He could hear them outside, checking the other rooms. One advantage of running into a muggle office block on a weekend was that those rooms were certainly numerous. Shouts and low rumbles came through the walls. He was certain Malfoy was behind this somehow, although whether it was the father or the son – even the wife, he supposed, he didn’t know. And now, he never would. When he saw them, he would give The Fates such a lecture that the fourth year Gryffindors would think he’d been an angel of free love and legalised marijuana in the classroom.

He’d lost his wand early on in the skirmish – not that that would have mattered due to the magical binding they’d somehow wrought on his person. He couldn’t allow them to get their hands on him – it was too dangerous. Too many names, places and prophecies resided in his head, and for all his endurance, he would never be able to out last them. He fingered the other piece of muggle creativity in his pocket. For all her speeches, he didn’t quite trust these pieces of metal to do their jobs. ‘Please,’ there was a note of desperation in his mental voice he wasn’t accustomed to hearing, ‘for the Order, for her, let them work’.

He picked up the phone’s receiver, and had never been more relieved when he heard a dial tone. ‘At least I get to say goodbye’, he thought. Carefully, hoping he hadn’t misremembered all her instructions on the subject, he dialled the number to their flat.

It only rang twice before it was picked up. He could imagine how she’d look, sitting on her favourite window seat in the sun, in her worn satin night gown, the only thing she claimed to feel comfortable in, given her heavily pregnant state. The light would make her hair shine a mass of golden copper, and would turn her skin tawny, making it look as warm as it was to touch. Gods, he would miss her.

“Hello?” Her voice brought a lump to his throat, but he swallowed it back down.

“Hermione,” his voice was rough.

“Severus? What’s-” He interrupted.

“Listen to me. They found me. No wand and I\'m not sure where I am, but they\'re right ouside. I,” his voice cracked, despite his best efforts. “I have the contingency you gave me.” The door, inefficiently barricaded with some muggle chest of drawers made out of steel, boomed. They’d found him for certain then. He drew the revolver from his pocket and laid it on the desk in front of him.

“No!” She sounded desperate, he didn’t want that. He only wanted to say goodbye.

“My life, my love, my heart, listen to me.”

“Severus, no please! I’ll get Harry, Dumbledore, Mad-eye, we’ll find you-” The door boomed again, and again. He was out of time.

“There’s no time love, they’ll be through the door in under a minute, listen!” He snapped the chamber open and checked the bullets as she’d shown him.

“The gun is for them, not you!”

“Too many, I can’t risk the order. Listen!” She was sobbing now, and he raised his voice in an attempt to make himself heard, not caring if those outside were eavesdropping.

“I love you, I love you with all my heart,” he said, as he realised she was whimpering quietly on the phone, and he tried not to cry. “Live without me. Grieve as you need to but then live. Love. Dance, I know how you sparkle when you do.” Images of her on the dance floor in the great hall flashed in front of his eyes, her in his arms, a lily in her hair, smiling up at him with adoration in her eyes. Gods, he’d never know what he’d done to deserve her, even for the short time they’d had. “You were the best thing in my life, my love, you made everything worthwhile. I could’ve spent eternity in your arms.”

“I love you Severus,” she sounded so small, broken. His heart twisted. ‘Please god, keep her safe when I’m not here to make sure of it,’ he thought.

“Tell my son,” he voice broke again, and the door boomed once more, this time the sound ended in a crack, and the wood splintered. He sped up. “Tell my son, I love him more than life itself, and that no matter what he does with his life, I will be proud. Tell him it’s alright to befriend those Weasley dopes, but to make sure he gives them a decent run for their money for grades at school. Tell him I told him to mind his mother,” she gave a tearful chuckle, and he saw a hand emerge through the crack in the door. He raised the revolver to his temple, and put his finger on the trigger.

“I love you, Hermione Snape, I always will.” A single tear escaped and trickled down his cheek.

“Severus, no, please, I love you!”

“Goodbye my love,” he whispered, and pulled the trigger.