The Other Half::celeste::Disclaimer
: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, it’s character and world, belong to Joss Whedon and whomever else owns the rights to their own personal slayer. Harry Potter, it’s characters and world, belong to JK Rowling and whoever else owns the rights to their personal set of wizards and witches. Celeste owns neither, makes no money by writing this fan fiction, and generally just likes to toy with their lives without making any sort of profit from it. This disclaimer will only show up on the prologue, but it applies to every chapter of this story. Not allowed to be publicated or distributed in any way that would infringe upon the copywrites of those who actually own the two series. Just so she doesn’t get into hot water for it.A/N
: Though there is discussion of ‘after life’ and things of that nature, I’m not trying to sell anyone on any religious ideals. I’m just working with what Buffy describes when she’s pulled out of ‘Heaven’. If it differs from whatever your beliefs are please try to remember it’s only a story, and enjoy the fictional world as just that- fictional ^.^ It’s not my intention for this to be religious doctrine (obviously)- or even reflect my own personal beliefs- so please keep that in mind. Thanks.AU
: Since the events in HBP, this story is now AU. Thank goodness.Prologue
An overwhelming sense of calm descended around Severus Snape. The peace was a most unusual feeling for the usually tense Potions Master, and Spy for the Order of the Phoenix. Doubly so, since he was relatively certain he was about to loose that tenuous grasp on life.
Cut loose on that mortal coil. Kick the bucket. Buy the farm. Become worm food. Take the long dirt nap. However one chooses to put it, they all meant the same thing. A few more minutes and he would cease to be. After two hours subjected to the Cruciatus curse, Snape was profoundly grateful for that fact. Even if it were to find respite in the arms of the Grim Reaper, it would be better than wallowing in his own spit and blood before the Dark Lord. Having lost dignity, having lost most of his sanity, and certainly beyond caring for either fact. He could not even remember a time when there was not this overwhelming pain and the vicious glow of murderous red eyes glaring down at him amidst glinting silver masks.
“Nothing more to say, Severus?”
The hissing voice was a douse of cold water over his head. Snape personally found the voice terribly high in pitch, as one would expect a eunuch to sound. Which was, of course, the wrong thing to think since Snape began an odd rasping chuckle from comparing the most vile and evil wizard to have walked the earth to a eunuch. In his own defense, he was mostly mad from torture and not at all up to his usual level of tact.
The Dark Lord was not so amused, and seemed even more disgusted that his traitorous servant should find humor in the situation. It was probably best he did not know what was causing Snape to laugh, if the garbled puffs of air bubbling from his raw throat could be labeled as such. If Voldemort had known, he probably would have prolonged Snape’s suffering for days at best, weeks at worst.
One of the masked men standing within the tightly formed circle around Snape addressed the Dark Lord. His voice a study in haughtier, oily with the self-assurance of being better than all around him. Oily and Slytherin to the core. “He’s lost his mind, My Lord. Perhaps we should leave him for Dumbledore in this state- tied to the front gates of the school.”
“No,” Voldemort replied darkly, “I wish his body to be displayed. In the most disturbing way possible, Lucius. They will learn that no one can leave our fold, or play traitor and live to tell our secrets.”
This declaration was followed by a swift kick into Snape’s already fractured rib cage. It stopped his incoherent laughter in favor of curling on his side, a natural instinct to protect his most vulnerable organs. Some spark of his former self, the ire and fury for being tricked by his former mates slowly formed a coherent sentence within his mind that he whispered into the sudden silence. “You’ll lose.”
“What was that?” Voldemort asked in a deadly whisper of his own.
Using his last ounce of strength, Severus Snape tilted his head towards his dark master. Through the curtain of black hair matted against sallow cheeks with his own blood, eyes blacker than the night’s sky met demon red. “Dumbledore will triumph. When he does,” he had to take a moment to swallow the gore rising in his throat before continuing, “when he does- I’ve asked for him to piss upon your grave on my behalf. You disgusting half blood.”
Following his declaration, Snape spat mucus and blood onto the hem of the Dark Lord’s robes.
A wild shriek of rage, probably from Bellatrix, erupted from the side of him. “KILL HIM! KILL HIM MY LORD!”
As the smooth polished end of Voldemort’s wand pointed itself between Severus Snape’s eyes, midnight eyes closed in relief. It would all be over now. No more fear, no more doubt, no more games, and the loneliness would finally be coming to an end.
With that furious hiss of words, and a roaring rush as the spell shot towards his crumpled body and spirit. Snape welcomed the green light as his salvation.**
It was bliss. The being that was enveloped in this blanket of pure love failed to recall when it had ever been so content. It did not remember it’s name, nor anything of time before this state of harmony. It was unsure how it even knew that there was another way to be, but it was unconcerned with the fact. All that mattered was that there would never be another moment of pain again in its existence. Whatever such existence was.
It had a vague realization that there had been another form. Solid and confined, but here it was free to roam as it saw fit now. With a wish it was anywhere it desired. With a dream it could materialize in any matter and form it so desired. There was a resounding echo imprinted on it’s being, shapes that were indistinct and somehow known as a body that was it’s own. Yet, it needed no body here. Needed no gilded cage. All it needed was to glow and pulse with the others, having earned its place among them.
Sense of self was unnecessary. It was at one time unique and also part of something so indescribably beautiful no mere words could convey the infinity that accepted it. Sometimes there were thoughts from those who were still distanced, still serving some purpose. Sometimes it heard a wish, or a thought from one of them. Other beings that it had once been connected to in that past Before time had begun, and sometimes it would seek to connect to those others that remained limited by perceptions.I miss you, dear boy. I am sorry for bringing you to this.
Again the entity’s self shifted awareness to a corner of that infinity. It had no sense of where it was, for it was in the very air, the molecules of stone, the song of the golden bird sitting upon a perch. The other, who was still bound in its cage, sat holding a quill immobile above the parchment. It’s sadness, an overwhelming guilt, burdening its thoughts.
The entity sought to comfort, calling to it’s kind trapped within flesh and time. Reassuring. Promising. Welcoming. Waiting. It was patient. It had forever, after all.
As soon as the sorrow passed and the quill in ancient hands began moving again the entity returned to its place with the others. It would likely be called again, and it would return. It was unsure if it ever completely left as it was, it seemed connected for a reason it could not recall.
There were others like it, others it had known in the old existence. They had been bound in the same earthly time; they had walked as it had. Crossed paths and imprinted upon each other something of themselves. It recognized this, and was with them because of this familiarity. Whatever they had been to each other in the Before- none of that mattered now. They were all one.
Words were not necessary. What communication, or how, was unable to be explained. One being thoughts were another’s, and they recognized each as such. At times words would emerge, familiar. Labels were unnecessary, but at times they would share these indistinct memories of the Before. The entity came to realize there had been anything but peace between them. All was forgotten now, all forgiven. There was only now.
It could not have said when it became aware first of the entity that called so forcefully to him. Singing a beautiful song that could only be felt, and never heard. The two had never met Before, which was a shame because they were so fulfilling together. As if they had been made just for the other, just to merge in such harmony. Each entity that dwelt did, in some way, but their bond went beyond that. They were two halves of the same whole.
If it had been peaceful prior to the other half’s arrival, it was in a state of pure happiness now. It was happiness. Nothing could ever fulfill it more than this other, and that the sentiment was returned was indescribably wondrous. They sometimes became the same, moving and thinking as one- and the whole. They were meant to be. Eternally.
Then, the unnatural happened. Pain flooded it for the first time, as the other was ripped away from it. A pain that went beyond the same of those trapped in flesh. This was pain that echoed through the soul, threatening to shatter it completely. There was no comfort that could be accepted, not even in this state of bliss and love- for it’s other was gone.
It wanted to be gone too. The others who’d been imprinted also experienced something other than bliss. They grew to remember worry, concern, and helplessness. The shockwaves reverberated through all. It’s half had to be restored, and the two had to be joined, or they would all perish into eternal grief for they were all connected. One’s pain became the others.
The powers that be, those that acted as watchers, decided action had to be taken. The wrongs had to be righted.
They were unsure how to accomplish this. It went against the natural order of things. The entity’s time on the mortal coil had been spent as it should have been and had accomplished what it was meant to. It had born the suffering that was more than most, and deserved its rest. Deserved its other that had also been fated to suffer. Their sufferings were to end with their joining, but instead one who had not yet joined them in the eternity had pulled it’s other away from it.
There was nothing to be done but to put the entity back. Back to the flesh, back into time, and back into mortal form. It had never been done, not by the Powers, but the consequences would be disastrous on an inconceivable scale if this second chance were not given. The two had found each other, and they needed to be together again- and they could not afford to wait for the one who had been ripped from them to return lest it be too late to fix the rift of chaos that had formed.
When the entity became aware of the Powers decision, it was willing to return. It knew that meant to suffer again, but it could not comprehend a pain worse than what threatened to destroy it utterly. It only wanted to be with it’s other again. It was consumed by the need, and the fact it needed at all attested to the state of the eternal.
And so, with a power that shifted nature, it was sent from the eternal bliss. Its mortal body was remade, since those who had yet to join had burned the old flesh to ashes. The body was remade near to it’s other, in hopes they would find each other easier that way. When all was ready, it was sent back to mortality.
Severus Snape was alive again.**