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Snape's Death Scene Reimagined

by Ahmed Sherief about a year ago in Fan Fiction
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A Harry Potter fanfiction

Did you hate how easily and vainly Severus Snape died in the Deathly Hallows, without even putting up a fight? Well, I hated it too. Snape, no matter what you think of his character, was not going to stand idle, saying "My Lord?" like a limp marionette while Voldemort threatened to kill him. No, Snape would have brandished his wand and fought, and in this reimagination of his death scene, he does. Oh boy, he does.

I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

“I have a problem, Severus,” said Voldemort, softly.

“My lord?” said Snape.

Voldemort brandished the elder wand, holding it delicately between his long, thin fingers.

“Why doesn’t it work for me, Severus?”

“My Lord?” said Snape blankly. “I do not understand. You – you have performed extraordinary magic with that wand.”

“No,” said Voldemort. “I have performed my usual magic. I am extraordinary, but this wand … no. It has not revealed the wonders it had promised. I feel no difference between this wand and the one I procured from Ollivander all those years ago.”

Snape did not speak. Voldemort started to move around the room, anger rising within him.

“I have thought long and hard, Severus … do you know why I called you here?”

No, my lord,” said Snape, but something in his eyes said otherwise. His hand moved slightly in the direction of his wand.

“You are a clever man, Severus,” said Voldemort. His eyes did not miss the slight hand movement. He turned his back on Snape, musing.

“See, the Elder wand only shifts loyalty to the wizard who killed its last master. You, Severus, killed Dumbledore. And as long as you live, I cannot be the master of this wand.”

As Voldemort turned back to face Snape, he saw the tip of Snape’s wand a few inches from his face.

“I will not die today,” said Snape in his deep, steady voice. A mixture of anger and loathing on his face.

Voldemort laughed. A high-pitched, merciless, cold laugh. “You cannot defend yourself against Lord Voldemort, Severus. You are clever, yes, and strong. But you are no match for me. Lower your wand, accept your destiny, and I promise you it will be a quick and merciful death. Fight me …”

Voldemort broke off, not finishing the sentence, and with a swift move of his wand he shouted, “Crucio!”

Snape moved instinctively, his wand drew a circular shape in the air, and his un-uttered shield charm stopped the curse, and it rebounded, hitting Nagini’s cage.

“You fool,” screeched Voldemort as he pointed his wand at Snape again and shouted, “Crucio … Crucio … Crucio!”

The power of the spell knocked Snape backwards into the wall then to his knees on the floor. His shield charm broke, leaving him open to the torture curse.

The room vanished from his view. There was Lilly, fear on her face, standing guard in front of the crib of a crying toddler. In front of her stood Voldemort, his wand pointing at her as she cried, “Not Harry, please, not Harry. Kill me instead.”

Snape’s insides were in such pain that he could not stand up, all that he could do was crawl towards her, trying to reach her before she was killed.

“Stand aside you silly girl. Stand aside,” shouted Voldemort, but Lilly did not move.

“Lilly,” Snape hissed from in between clenched teeth. She looked at him, tears streaming from her eyes, she cried, “Sev, please, help me.”

A second later, a jet of green light issued from Voldemort’s wand, and Lilly’s body crumpled to the floor. Voldemort looked down at Snape, who was at his feet now, and jeered, “You are weak.”

The pain stopped. Snape was back in the shrieking shack, lying on the floor, whimpering with pain and remorse. Voldemort stood over him in real life as he did in the hallucination.

“Lilly? Who is Lilly, Severus?” he asked, smiling, clearly amused. Then understanding dawned upon him, and his eyes widened in shock and anger. “The mudblood? Potter’s mother? Severus, did you love her?”

Snape was in no shape to answer. His limp body lay on the floor, shaking, his wand still somehow clutched in his fist. His black eyes found Voldemort’s red ones defiantly.

Voldemort directed his wand at Snape, lifted him off the ground until he was face to face with him, and asked again, “Did you love her, Severus?”

Snape nodded then said feebly, “And you killed her. You promised you would spare her, but you killed her.”

“The Dark Lord does not concern himself with the lives of mudbloods. I tried to spare her life, but she refused to stand away from the boy. I had no choice,” Voldemort said impatiently.

“You killed her,” Snape said, his eyes filling with tears, his heart aching. He remembered Lilly's face as she lay down on the floor of her house, her eyes unfocused, staring blankly at the starry night through the exploded ceiling, dead. Then, without knowing where the strength came from, he lifted his wand, directed it at Voldemort’s head, and a jet of red light issued from it.

Before Voldemort could react, Snape's torture curse hit him full in the face, and Voldemort was lifted off his feet, thrashing, he hit the roof of the shack, then fell to the floor. Snape stood up, his wand still pointed at Voldemort, and without saying a word, another flash of red light issued from his wand, and Voldemort writhed on the floor, screaming at the top of his lungs, his voice shrill, unnatural.

“You killed her,” Snape screamed, keeping the curse alive, as he poured all his hatred, pain, and anger into the torture curse. He kept it going, not knowing for how long, screaming viciously all the time, until Voldemort's body moved no more.

Snape stopped the torture curse, moved a couple of steps forward until he was on top of Voldemort’s body. Voldemort had no fight left in him. He took slow, rasping breaths, looking frail, and withered.

Snape aimed his wand at Voldemort’s heart and said, “For Lilly,” and the killing curse shot from the tip of his wand, and Voldemort was dead on the spot.

Behind him, Snape heard a loud thud, as he turned quickly to face whatever was there, he saw the great snake, Nagini. Her spherical cage dissolved as her master died; she was free. In a split second, she lunged at Snape and sank her long fangs in his neck. The snake's muscly body crushed Snape’s ribs in as it pushed him into the wall of the Shack.

Snape collapsed to the ground; his wand dropped beside his limp arm. And through hazy eyes, he saw something black coming out of the snake, slithering on the floor towards Voldemort’s body. With a gasp, in front of Snape’s unbelieving eyes, Voldemort sat up, picked up his wand from the floor, and stood up.

“I told you, fool. You cannot kill Lord Voldemort.” Voldemort hissed. Then, as if he weren’t dead a minute ago, he strode out of the shack, with the snake at his heels.

He could feel life slipping away from his body with every drop of blood gushing from his wound. Then, he saw him. The boy, Lilly's son, staring at him with his mother’s eyes. Lilly’s eyes. The eyes that he missed so much, for so long. And without control, memories started streaming out of him, all his memories with her, the love of his life.

“Take it,” he whispered, and the boy obeyed, filling a flask with all the memories that oozed from Snape.

Snape mustered all his strength, caught the boy's shirt with his fist and pulled him closer. Lilly’s eyes stared into his, green as grass in the spring, as beautiful as he could remember them, as far away as ever. Then, darkness fell, and Severus Snape lived no more.

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About the author

Ahmed Sherief

Welcome to my profile.

Here, I write a bit of fiction, psychology, and other things that interest me. If you like what you read, please tip. It helps to keep me going as a writer.

P.S. Some content is just here for Vocal challenges.

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