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The Other Half

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Summary: Death unites Severus Snape with his soul mate. When one is suddenly ripped from the After, he is sent back to find and reunite with her. If he fails, all souls in eternal bliss will suffer eternal torment- and evil will rise with the imbalance.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Harry Potter > Buffy-Centered > Pairing: Severus SnapecelestialsilenceFR151276,166169928,02729 Feb 0411 Feb 06No

It Needs

The Other Half

Chapter 2
It Needs

Evil had many faces, as many as the Eternal. If asked, it would have insisted it had more. For every natural in the universe, there was another unnatural. It was chaos to harmony. It was not sentient, but it was not without intent. It’s intent was to delve all things into disorder, and to blot out the light with everlasting darkness. It did not care for these games, it wanted to end them- and it sensed its opportunity. Sensed it the moment the Eternal had begun accepting it within their song.

But it was not ready yet. It needed more strength. Needed to spawn more upon the infinite, leave it’s seeds behind so that they may grow. When the Eternal were turned to it, there would be no more resistance, and victory would finally be to the Dark Matter that tried to overwhelm the Stars.

The Powers were so foolish. Setting up a balance between them. Their need for fairness would be their undoing. They were only giving it an opportunity, and it would triumph this time. That called The First had not been enough. Evil needed more than just it’s heart, it would have to awaken its fist.

But it did not know to where, or to when. It sensed when the other Eternal, half of the whole, had been returned for what belonged to it. They were both in the same plane of existence again. The balance was tipping- tipping so precariously. It was nearly there, but it still did not know where or when.

The Eternal would reveal that to Evil. The Eternal were being bound to flesh, and flesh was vulnerable. Flesh made mistakes. Flesh could be tempted.

When the Flesh faltered, the Eternal would falter. Evil would summon its hand to crush out the light.

It only had to destroy one soul, after all.


Despite the fact Black seemed certain that all the combined powers of good was at his back on this one, Severus Snape felt certain that Fate had it in for him since the beginning of time. He could not see why any of that would change. The fact his soul mate (and he used the term with a mental sneer) had been taken from him in the first place only seemed to add credence to his theory that the universe was out to get him.

When one was the target of universal pranks, one had a tendency to look any ‘gift’ in its mouth. Examining every single one of its molars and incisors with a fine tuned oculus spell. This was no different. Sirius Black may have thought this entire debacle his life, such as it now was, a grand adventure worthy of any Marauder, but Snape still held to the belief that it would only end in unmitigated disaster since he was involved. Being said ass of the universe.

Take, for instance, the fact he was sitting in a muggle jail cell wearing a blaringly orange jumper suit. There was a reason Snape wore all black. Colors and he, especially bright ones at that, did not agree. Not one single bit. If he was a sight in his billowing robes, he had the visage of a terminally ill patient within the obscenity that was prison jumper orange.

Furthermore Black had been right about the free lunch. If the food before him on the plastic green tray balanced upon his lap could be accurately labeled as food. It was only sustenance in the very barest sense of the word. Two pieces of fried chicken, so dry it had the texture of beef jerky, sat in the largest section of the tray. Doubtlessly making up the ‘main course’. His side dish of vegetables was corn. Also dried. Snape wondered if they even realized water was usually required for boiling corn. Perhaps they just baked it on a rock out back of the jailhouse. He couldn’t be certain when it came to muggles.

The only bit of his meal that did not taste like dried cardboard was the dessert. It would have, most likely, had cherry cobbler not required filling. Surprisingly they still managed to completely botch cherry cobbler. He had not even known that was possible. Again, one learns new things every day. Obviously they felt this particular recipe did not call for sugar, a grave error on their part.

For a man having just returned to the land of the living, a man who had not tasted for years, to say it was the worst lunch he’d ever had really attested to jail food. As the old Slytherin saying went, nothing that was free was worth the price.

He hadn’t wanted to eat any bit after taking a sample of his choices, but Black had fixed him with a glare. His spirit guide continued taunting him mercilessly by singing Henry the Eighth until Snape had finally picked up the strangest utensil he’d ever seen (some plastic combination of spoon and fork) and began eating. Just to shut him up. Black finally did, wearing a smirk worthy of Snape’s foreboding countenance.

When Snape had finally complained aloud about the taste, Black had shaken his head then added, “If you think that’s bad, you should have tasted what was served up at Azkaban.”

The subject of the Prison sparked recognition in Snape. Not about his situation, past or present, but about his guide. He had not really examined Black very closely, he usually preferred not to look upon him at all, but at that he had to regard the other man critically.

At Black’s escape from Azkaban, he had looked like the walking dead (which was rather ironic given the situation at hand). His skin had taken on the pallor of a Vampire from being absent of the sun for nearly twelve years. His hair had still been long, but it was brittle and ratted a great deal of the time. His blue eyes had sunken into his face and displayed large bags underneath. His body had been thinner than Snape’s own, fragile in appearance, as if a good breeze would knock him over. Frown lines were permanently embedded into his forehead and below the corners of his mouth. He had looked of the damned.

Now- it was the man that would have been without the company of Dementors day in and day out. An echo of the teenage heartbreaker Snape remembered from their youth at Hogwarts. The crinkle around the eyes from a million smiles replaced the deep grooves of sorrow. His eyes were bright, focused, holding that twinkle of mischief. His hair shimmered in the sunlight streaming in from the cell’s one window, complete with natural blue highlights where the light lit up the midnight locks spilling over broad shoulders and his back. Black’s skin seemed as if the sun had kissed it, possessing a healthy glow that was also of the mystical. His body was full, muscular, and the sort that most men cursed in jealousy while women melted from want of touch.

He looked bloody fantastic, as if Azkaban had never happened, and it cut at Snape who had never been handsome. Definitely not the stuff women fantasized about. If people turned to get a second look at him, it was out of morbid fascination rather than genuine interest. From his glance in the mirror when he had changed into the jumper the night before, the Powers that put him back on this hell hole didn’t even see fit to make some adjustments. He’d come back exactly as he’d left- albeit not in a bloody and broken mess. He supposed he should be grateful for the favor, but he couldn’t quite muster the positive attitude for that.

Across from him Black tutted again. Snape wasn’t sure if he even wanted to know what he’d done now, but he still asked. “What?”

Unfazed by the acid in the simple quarry, Black’s voice and demeanor remained nearly serene. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Criticizing your self,” he answered.

Black had become something of Snape’s personal cheerleader, much to Snape’s chagrin and horror. Nothing could convey the oddity of having one’s childhood tormentor suddenly act as if they were your very best friends. Encouraging words, comforting words, poured out of his mouth. Thankfully, they were sometimes accompanied by the familiar ‘git’ ‘bastard’ and, of course, Snivellus. Still, even those were spoken differently, lacking any sort of venom.

“Try not to be so hard on yourself,” he continued to advise. Perfectly open and honest, as if he’d done this all their lives. “Granted your nose is a little big for your features.” This was met by a fierce sneer, but he continued on dauntless. “But you’ve got a lot to offer too.”

“Like what?” Snape asked dryly. Eager to hear what the hell he’d come up with now.

Nearly immediately Black replied, and the lack of hesitation was disconcerting as well. “For one, you’ve got that ‘tall, dark, mysterious, and dangerous’ look going for you. Women are attracted to that, you know. Find it sexy.”

Snape snorted. He didn’t believe Black in the least. Old animosity aside, Severus Snape knew what women thought of him. Sexy was nowhere near the mark, ugly was closer to the bulls eye. Not that Snape had ever cared. Companionship was never something that concerned him, and when he needed to relieve more, physical urges, he usually found a willing partner who wanted something in exchange. His Slytherin mindset understood that.

“I’m being serious you git. Try to pull the crooked stick out of your arse,” Black returned breezily before continuing in his morale boost. “You’ve got an intensity too, and a presence that can’t be easily ignored. On top of that, you’re bloody brilliant. Don’t give me that look, Snivellus Snape. Believe it or not, intelligence is an attractive quality. Consider Lockhart. Ten minutes conversing with that poof, and any woman would have thought twice. If she was looking for anything serious.”

“Oh, do stop. You’re going to make me blush,” Snape replied. Snide enough to let Black know he wasn’t hearing any of it. “Comparing me to Mr. Five Times Witch’s Weekly Best Smile.”

“Kept up with the publication, did you?” Black retorted. Grinning madly as he did.

Rolling his eyes, Snape went back to examining the curious utensil. Trying to give Black the hint he was already weary of the conversation. “He reminded everyone, willing to listen or not- and usually it was the latter, at least twenty times a day. I’ve never met anyone who loved the sound of their own voice as much as that incompetent twit.”

“Really? I would have thought you were a shoe in,” Black said. He was still grinning like the cat that ate the canary. Or, in his case, the dog that caught it’s tail.

Fueled by that mental image that properly humiliated Black, Snape was able to ignore that last dig and risk taking a drink of water. Even it tasted horrid. “Bah. This situation is intolerable, Black. I’m feeling distinctly,” Snape paused dramatically, “irritated with my surroundings.”

His two cellmates, the ones that were made of the same flesh and bone as Snape himself, were still warily watching him. Snape found the little game of talking to the ‘wall’ directly across from him was actually amusing. He did enjoy unraveling anyone’s nerves, and that they were muggles made it all the sweeter a past time to indulge in.

Black snorted. Watching the two muggles as well. His eyes then took on that ‘up to no good’ gleam as he looked again to Snape. “Want to see something really amusing?”

Intrigued, despite the fact he should probably know better, Snape nodded.

With a wink, something of a signal the mischief was about to begin, Black stood up and crossed over to Snape. Not so much a whisper of sound with his movement. “Hold out that spoon for me.”

“I’m not certain if it is a spoon,” Snape replied, peering at the plastic teeth on the tip of the oval ‘spoon’.

“Just hold it up,” Black repeated.

Pinching the end of its handle with two long fingers, Snape did as he was instructed.

A look of momentary concentration fell over Black’s face before he reached out with his own hand and gingerly took hold of the opposite end. “Now let go.”

“It’ll only fall,” Snape said. Honestly, was he that dense?

Another slip of a smile was his answer. “Trust me, Snape.”

“Very well,” Snape stated diffidently before letting go of the utensil.

Twin gasps of horror and amazement rang out as, to muggle eyes, the spoon/fork began floating around the room. After all, it wasn’t every day plastic-ware moved about on it’s own. Black was snickering with mirth, and that turned into a belly laugh when he waved the utensil in front of the drunk from last night. The drunk gave of a rather feminine shriek before leaping away from the bench and running straight to the bars of the cell.

While the larger fellow simply trembled, Black skipped another circle around the room, before passing it back to Snape- who was smirking as he watched the two muggles from behind lowered eyelashes. Content to lean back and enjoy the show, nearly sad to see it end as he took the bit of plastic back. “I didn’t realize you could move solid objects.”

Black shrugged, sitting back down in the seat the drunk had abandoned in favor of remaining backed against the bars of the cell. “Makes sense when you consider it. Works for the same reason I can sit on this bench and not sink through the ground to the core of the earth when I’m walking around.” He grinned and folded his arms behind his head as he leaned back and crossed his legs in front of him at the ankle. “I thought you’d like that.”

Taking another glance at the two visibly frightened muggles, Snape allowed a sinister chuckle. “Passes the time in any case.”

“Mm,” Black agreed. “Poor blokes are probably scarred for life.”

Snape arched a thin black brow, unconcerned with such trivialities. Not when he had been a Death Eater forced to witness their idea of ‘sport’. “I’ve seen worse done to muggles. A floating bit of plastic is rather tame.”

“True, that.” Black’s grin threatened to split his face in half. “This is a Marauder’s dream, you know. Think of the pranks I could pull off. Invisible, untraceable, and no can hear me coming.”

Snape snorted again. Count on Black to think of something like that. Snape still held the opinion he was actually just a small boy masquerading around in the body of a man. “How twelve years old of you, Black.”

“I’m sure it’ll have its uses,” Black stated. As Snape mused on that point, Black startled him by bolting upright and snapping his fingers. “Of course! I’ve an idea. I’ll be right back, so don’t ah-“ he gazed around at the cell before cracking another smirk, “go anywhere.”

“Sod off,” Snape snarled.

“Right-O,” was his only answer before Black passed straight through the solid concrete wall, his robes snapping before disappearing along with the rest of him.

Ignoring the two muggles, Snape stood and went to the vacated bench. He stretched out upon it, resting with his head propped up on his arm as he tried to pass the time and keep thoughts away by mentally reciting potion recipes.

When Black stayed gone longer than an hour, Snape grew restless. If he’d ever even caught a sliver of need for Black’s presence in the past, he’d have thought himself loosing his mind. Now he found himself growing concerned. Surely Black wouldn’t abandon him? The thought of being stuck in a muggle city- jail cell at that- was terrifying. He was certain he would be able to get along well enough after a while, but what about his reason for having been brought back? Would he be able to find this girl without Black’s connection to- whatever this Nexus was?

Another hour passed and still no sign of Black. Growing restless with the gnawing sense of worry in his gut, and the veil that was slowly descending like a Dementor on his thoughts, Snape stood up and began a caged pacing. Ten paces, swivel, and ten more paces- repeat as needed. Time continued to pass, and Snape’s worry was blossoming into full-blown panic again.

Forcing himself to stop and close his eyes, he began deep breathing exercises to clear his troubled mind. It was similar to the preparation he would take before visiting the Dark Lord, but now the walls were so much harder to build around his mind. He felt vulnerable and weakened for some reason he could not explain.

If, and going on Black’s explanations along with his own shredded memories of the time during his Afterlife, he indeed been reunited with this- other half- then perhaps when they were separated- it damaged his magic as well. Though, by the way Black spoke of things, he’d gotten the impression magic would not be affected. Just as his body had not been affected. Since he had neither during his Afterlife.

Then again, there had never been a proper theory that explained the nature of magic itself. Perhaps it was entwined with his soul, and it was thusly possible that his other had taken a bit with her. Snape expelled a long breath, running a hand through his hair in a calming gesture. He simply didn’t know enough to begin wild speculations along those lines. It could also be explained by having just been recreated, thrust out of Heaven, and put into this damnable world again. Merlin knew the trauma was enough to throw anyone’s game off.

He was beginning to peruse possibilities down that line of reason, to keep the depression at bay, when footsteps approached from outside the cell door. Snape whirled around on his heal to watch an officer take out his keys and unfasten the lock. “Severus Snape?”

“Yes?” Snape asked quietly. Worried there might be a second volley of interrogations on it’s way, and unwilling to put up with the affront again. Then again, he had just been addressed by his name. A name he’d not told them upon Black’s advice.

The officer, unaware of this internal war, addressed him again. “Free to go.”

“What?” Snape’s brows furrowed together as his confusion deepened. “I am?”

“What I just said. And next time remember to take your medication, or at least wear your medical alert bracelet.” The officer answered before sliding the bars aside.

Snape listened to the nearly musical clink of metal before fixing the man with one of his dark glares. Wondering if this was some sort of trick. “So- I can just walk out of here then?”

“Soon as you pick up your clothes,” the officer replied. He stepped aside to allow Snape to pass.

“My clothes,” Snape muttered to himself as he left the cell behind. Unsure how he was supposed to have clothes when he’d been dropped in this Merlin forsaken place without so much as a scrap of fabric on his back.

As he began making his way back towards the hallway, he distinctly heard two relieved sighs. A decidedly sinister smile spread across his face. He did enjoy the trembling respect of others. Fear was such an ugly term for it, but could have also applied if he decided to be realistic.

He followed his liberator a ways down the hall, until he was lead to a glass window separating them from what looked like some sort of storage facility. The officer gave his name, and then Snape was doubly shocked when the woman behind the glass came back after a short search with a brown paper bag. A bag with his name scrawled across the front.

The mystery was solved when Snape recognized the handwriting. Sirius Black. That explains it.

As if merely thinking his name had summoned him, Black walked right through the wall beside Snape. “Ah Snape. I never knew you cared so much. Panicking while I was gone, how very sweet.”

Snape shot him a glare as soon as he’d taken the bag from the lady. After the two made certain that was all his belongings, the officer led him to a changing room. Snape stepped inside and was only too happy to slip out of that horrid jumper. He was nearly shocked out of his new skin when Black passed through the door.

“I tried to get something I thought you might like,” Black told him. Evidently having no concern with Snape’s nude state as he ripped the bag open. “I had to ah- improvised a bit. I think they’ll fit though.”

“How did you do it?” Snape asked, glancing into the paper bag before pulling out a long pair of trousers muggles called ‘jeans’. He was pleased to see they were black. Folding them on the small chair, he dug through the rest.

“Got lucky. Jail wasn’t far from a clothing shop. I think one woman might have seen clothes floating by, she screamed fairly loudly, but after that no worries.” He shrugged and waited while Snape pulled up a pair of boxer shorts.

“I meant to get me out of here. What’s an- alert bracelet?”

“Great thing about the Eternal Bliss. Everyone who ever walked is up there, including muggles. Powers That Be managed to pass on a few pieces of information that they gleamed from other souls. We don’t usually remember much of the Before, but the Powers That Be can lift all that back to the surface.”

Snape listened with some interest while he worked his way into the jeans.

“See, there are these muggle devices called computers. Nearly all their transactions are handled on them now. So, once I got a split second history of Muggle 101 from the Powers- including how to fraud social security numbers and hack into bank accounts- I was able to do a few little transactions of my own. Guess whose got a new identity in the Muggle world?” Black was nearly preening with pleasure on having figured so much out.

“Bank account? Were all my holding in Gringotts liquidated?” Snape asked. He was pleased to find he had no trouble with the jeans, and then pulled out a dark forest green sweater. He smiled wistfully at the reminder of his house, and then cleared those maudlin sentimentalities away before pulling the sweater over his head.

It kept him from seeing the tense look on Black’s face until his head was back out of the collar. He regarded black wearily when he did catch the discomfort the spirit was showing. “What?” he barked. “Out with it.”

Black cleared his incorporeal throat. “Now, don’t panic or anything, Severus.”

A pale arm was left dangling outside his new sweater. “I’ll do more than panic if you don’t spit out whatever it is.”

Black inhaled deeply and grasped a lock of his hair in his fingers. Twirling it absently, and trying to affect an air of nonchalance that Snape saw through straight away. “Here’s the thing. While I was in Switzerland-“


“Well, I thought a Swiss account would be harder to trace. Don’t worry about that. It would take too long to explain.” Black waved a hand. “While I was setting up your little nest egg, I felt you trying to draw up your magic. For legillimancy, you know.”

“But, you weren’t even with me,” Snape protested.

“Yes I was. You don’t get it Snape. I’m everywhere. I’m in the air your breathing right now, I’m in the cotton that makes up that sweater, and I’m even in you to a certain extent.” Black replied patiently.

Snape’s eyes widened in horror, and for an irrational moment he wasn’t sure if it was safe to even breathe. And Black was in him? He blanched, looking down at his body certain he’d see a rash develop right before his eyes.

Black laughed. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. My soul is concentrated to your location of the Infinite right now. This body,” Sirius indicated himself with a wave of his hand down his torso, “is merely a piece of my soul that’s taken form and been granted certain- privileges- by the Powers. Along with the memories, etc. You still don’t get how far reaching this all is, do you?” At Snape’s blank look, Black sighed. “Okay. This actually has to do with the- um- problem. Well, it’s not really that big of one per se, if you compare it to Eternal Suffering or bumping into someone you knew in your first life. Rather convenient, if you think about it with a certain- ah- perspective.”

“What are you talking about?” Snape snarled. He was quickly growing tired of these riddles. Not to mention Black’s dancing about the issue.

“Now, just try to follow me with this. I said I was in this corner of the Infinite, yes?”

Snape, lips already pressed tightly together and his eyes narrowed murderously, nodded sharply.

“Well, the Infinite is just that- Infinity. See, this universe? This is one dimension of that Infinite. There are many, many, dimensions with all sorts of life and even different versions of the same place. Think- earth with a green sky, or a sun that doesn’t burn vampires as examples.”

Snape continued staring, a very uneasy feeling growing in his gut.

Black went on explaining, though he was giving Snape worried looks as he twirled his hair. “Right now, you’re in one of these different dimensions from where you were the last time. The one we lived in the Before- uh- isn’t this one. Which, you know, would explain why you had to wait to meet your soul mate in the After. See how very big all this is? Boggles the mind, ay?”

There was no way to respond to that. Boggling the mind didn’t begin to cover it. When Snape’s thoughts began to function again, he sucked in a breath and asked the question Black was avoiding. “My magic doesn’t work here, does it?”

“No! No, it does, it does,” the spirit assured. “There’s magic here, just as there is in our old dimension. It just- works differently is all.” Black stated quickly.

“Differently?” Snape echoed, his upper lips drawing back into a snarl. “What do you mean, exactly, by differently?”

Black turned and pointed to the long loop of leather that served as a belt. “Make it float.”

“What?” Snape hissed, his tone soft and dangerous- obsidian eyes flashing.

“Oh, come on. That’s the first charm everyone learns, Snape,” he returned with a raised brow.

“I don’t have a wand,” Snape spat back. The harsh crack to his words would have made Neville Longbottom wet his pants.

Black- once again seeming invincible to Snape’s temperament- shook his head, smiling as if Christmas had come early. “You don’t need one, Severus.”

Thinking this had to be another prank, just staved off for a while, Snape muttered curses upon Black’s family before turning towards the belt. Feeling ridiculous, he pointed one long tapered finger at the belt. “Wingardium Leviosa!”

The astonishment that flooded over him when the belt slowly lifted into the air at his command made Snape reel backwards. Unfortunately, Black had been right behind him. The chill that enveloped his flesh was worse than being naked in sub zero temperatures. Snape’s lips immediately turned blue, and he began shivering uncontrollably. Loosing control of the spell, the belt dropped heedlessly to the floor with a clatter of leather on linoleum.

But that was nothing compared to the jolt Snape received. As soon as he felt himself pass fully into Black, in that split second, his body Sang. There was no other explanation for it. Luckily for the existence of all, the song and the chill ended as soon as his back hit the wall.

The damage, however, was done. Snape’s head lolled back and forth, his eyes rolling wildly as indistinct recollections from that miniscule time of contact with Black filled his being.

It was shattering! It needed it’s other! It needed The Other! It needed to reach out and touch again! It needed! It needed! It needed!


It sent shockwaves through Eternity as The Half Made Flesh passed through it. The Half Made Flesh passed through all.

The Infinite shuddered upon the weight as all shared need.

Bliss cracked.

The Powers screamed.


It Needs.

It Needs.

Bliss cracked.

Evil peered in and saw.


She’d been sitting next to Dawn on the sofa, listening to Faith as she instructed the other Slayers in counter-strike maneuvers. Pointing to the chalkboard that had been set up in the living room, diagrams illustrating various movements they’d plan to put into action tonight against the nest Buffy found hiding out inside a crypt in the old cemetery.

Willow was perched on the windowsill a bit off to the side and behind Faith. Giles and Xander on either side next to her. Kennedy would have been beside her, except she was forced onto the floor to listen to Faith’s lecture on ‘whooping demon ass’. All of them would’ve given anything to be anywhere else, evident by much eye rolling, but Buffy had been insistent on the seminar since a girl had been caught off guard during patrol the night before.

When it happened- there was no warning. Buffy happened to already be watching Willow, smiling as the witch mouthed the Slayer’s words behind Faith’s back accompanied by funny scrunched up faces to try and make Kennedy giggle. One moment Willow was perfectly fine. The next--


A flame of white hair was waving wildly in an invisible torrent of wind that they all felt in their bones. Willow’s eyes were focused on something no one could see, a crackling aura that was as beautiful and terrifying as an electric storm dancing across clouds, surrounded her. Taken completely by surprise, Giles and Xander were knocked back with its force into the windows- crashing through the glass and falling out of sight. Willow had stood with an unnatural grace and speed, pointing at Buffy, screaming her mantra of ‘IT NEEDS’ over and over as if her very life depended on it.

And then, as suddenly as it had begun, it just stopped. As if a switch had been flipped, the pulsating aura around Willow dissipated, and her hair reddened before falling back down against her head. Buffy watched with her mouth gaping open as Willow’s eyes rolled back into her head. The witch collapsed boneless to the ground.


The Hellmouth within the cardinal points that settled directly under Cleveland shuddered in the bowls of its gate as The First reached out. The Darkness converged under the will of The First, the Heart.

The First took form and smiled as it felt her other half. How wonderful. It would still get that bitch after all.

“Wake up,” it whispered in the soft voice of The Slayer to the convergence of Darkness.

Darkness opened its eyes. Darkness inhaled the scent of The Other. The Half. Darkness rose.

“That’s it,” The First encouraged. “You can smell the need now, can’t you? Sniff that miserable little soul out. When you find it-“

The First paused, waiting for Darkness to turn its attention to it.

“Crush it.”

The Darkness roared.

Hell’s Demons shivered at the sound, and all trembled when Darkness broke free of its seal.



Snape could not have said how much time had passed with his arse planted on the ground and his bare back pressed flush against the plaster wall. By the time he finally came to, he was staring into Sirius’ blue eyes, filled to their endless depths with worry and pain. “SEVERUS!” he shouted again, right in Snape’s face.

“Wot?“ He felt barely able to think. He was sure a bolt of lightning had gone right through his body, starting at the crown of his head ending at the tips of his toes.

“Thank the Powers,” Black breathed in relief. “I thought you’d-“ he shook his head. Trying to expel whatever notion he’d had. “Don’t do that again, you moron! You don’t know what a fright you just gave the Eternal! If James were able to take form he’d beat you to a bloody pulp! Slimy little Slytherin Git!”

“Potter?” Snape mumbled thickly. What did Potter have to do with the lightning?

“Yes, Potter. We all felt that jolt, and it’s the last thing we need.” Black straightened and seemed to collect himself. “There’s less time now. Good going, Snape. C’mon, we’ve got to stop messing around. You’ve got to find her, and you’ve got to do it soon. Who knows what else sensed that.”

“Sensed what?”

“You’re soul touching the Eternal!” Black said angrily. Then he stilled, head tilted. If he had been angry before he was so furious after the momentary pause he began yanking at his hair. “Now they know you’re here and vulnerable! Bloody hell!” Black was pulling at his hair with so much force that, had he been in an actual body, fistfuls of clumps would’ve come out. “She just HAD to be on a Hellmouth!”


“Get up! GET UP!” Black ordered even while keeping a safe distance from Snape. “We’ve got to move! Now! I’m not kidding Snape!”

“Right,” Snape replied, dazed and still trying to breathe properly since his lungs had- at some point- forgotten how.

“Death Eaters are invading Hogwarts!” Black suddenly shouted.

Snape snapped to so quickly he was lightheaded when he found himself standing and wrenching the sweater down and thrusting his arm through the sleeve. Forgetting the belt, forgetting where he even was and acting purely on the old instincts, he nearly ripped the door off its hinges before racing out. Still disoriented, Snape's mind could only focusing on getting to Potter and getting the boy out through the mirror.

Half way through the police station, Snape skidded to a halt before doubling over since what air supply he’d managed to gain had been used up. It dawned on him that he was not at Hogwarts. Would NEVER be at Hogwarts again. Snape blinked wildly, his chest rising and falling at the same pace as his racing heart. His dark eyes darted around, seeking to recover his bearings. Then Black’s waist was in front of him, blocking his view.

Snape saw red. He straightened up and stared right into Black’s grim visage. “You miserable Shite!”

“Sorry. I had to think of something to get you jumpstarted. You can yell at me later. We’ve got to relocate. They know you’re here.”

Without bothering to explain a single word of that, Black began walking again. Still filled with a blinding rage, so much Snape nearly expected flames to start shooting out his nostrils, he set off after him. His new wingtips clicked furiously against the tiled floor as he followed at a quick pace with long strides.

At that moment, Snape wanted nothing more than to give the damned spirit a good hex.


A/N: It’s so hard to explain the abstract x.x, I hope you all are following what’s gone on so far. If you’re confused on any point, please ask for clarification- and I’ll work it in (provided it’s not supposed to be a mystery).

Thanks for your reviews! I never expected so much interest in a crossover. A Buffy/Snape one at that. XD Yey! I’ll try to make it worth your while to read! Don’t worry, more time with the Buffy characters is on the way. Sorry to make you all wait for it :( Damn plot set ups anyway.
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