Chapter six: We Are Saints

Snape glared up at the Dark Lord just long enough to see him raise his wand again. He writhed in agony; he was in so much pain he could only feel the beating of his heart, the searing torture, and the hard ground. He also felt the hex that bound him wearing off, but could still not reach his wand, which was barely a foot away. Suddenly, Voldemort turned his back to Snape and began shooting hexes in the opposite direction. Severus was slowly regaining his breath as he looked to what Voldemort had turned to.

It was Minerva, who had been trying to distract the Dark Lord, if just for a moment, and it worked. Snape drew every ounce of strength left in him and twisted as hard as he could to trip Voldemort. He fell backwards just as Minerva performed the counter-curse on Snape.

He leapt up, grabbed his wand and felt the searing pain again. Voldemort aimed another curse at Snape.

If I fall again, I may not get another chance..., he thought.

He couldn't breathe, he didn't even know if he'd fallen or not. Nevertheless, with as much concentration as he could, he blindly raised his wand and whsipered, "Sectumsempra!"

The pain stopped. Snape swayed in place, suddenly realising that he was still standing, and struck again. Voldemort wasn't hurt badly, of course, but was in pain just long enough for Snape to disarm him. Voldemort's wand flew yards away and Snape pointed his own wand directly at the Dark Lord.

"Get up!" he spat, "If I'm to kill you now, I want to see your lifeless body drop!"

Behind Snape, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were standing back-to-back, shooting curses at the remaining Death Eaters. Voldemort got up, smiling coldly at Snape, who knew that Voldemort could easily kill him without a wand.

"Severus. You know-"

But Snape cut through him, "Shut up! I've listened to you long enough! Years of bowing in your presence and watching you kill and torture-" But was cut short as he shot a curse at Voldemort, as his opponent was about to do the same.

Minerva was fending off a Death Eater and shouted, "What are you waiting for, Severus?!"

Snape moved backwards, just to Harry's left, remembering the prophecy he heard so many years ago: One must die at the hand of the other and neither can live while the other survives.

But he knew it wouldn't happen. He would take too much pleasure in killing his former Master here and now. There were only five or six Death Eaters remaining now, and a few members of the Prder had already apparated out, on orders of course.

"Severus!" Minerva was gaining the upper hand against the Death Eater as Voldemort stood at Snape's mercy, defenceless, and...laughing?

"He can't do it...He won't do it...He's a coward!"

These words were all he needed. Snape began to draw breath for the final curse when the rest of the Death Eaters turned and directed all their energy towards Harry. He was torn, either kill the most evil wizard alive, or save the boy who lived.

The next few moments happened in seemingly Slow-motion. Voldemort reached his wand and was bringing it up to point at Severus. Hermione and Ron had fallen victim to a hex and were motionless on the ground. The Death Eaters were closing in on Harry, and Snape could smell the cold, icy, breath that he knew was Death. He also knew there was a choice he had to make: The choice to live or the choice to die.

He leapt back in front of Harry, his wand still pointed at Voldemort. The Death Eaters who were in front of Harry cast Avada Kedavra only one tiny moment after Snape did. Harry closed his eyes, not realising that Snape had just flung himself in front of him.

Voldemort dropped to the ground, dead. Severus saw him glare with his red eyes just before they turned soft and empty. The final moment of Snape’s life was not filled with pain or fear, but pleasure and pride. He dropped onto the ground; his hand fell to his side, still clutching his wand.

Minerva and Lupin took the Death Eaters by surprise as Harry opened his eyes and lifted the curses of Hermione and Ron. Severus had provided the spare moment they'd needed.

It was over. It was all over. Most of the Death Eaters were dead, as was Voldemort, who deserved nothing more. The remaining Death Eaters were Stunned. The Trio and the Order were cheerfully congratulating each other, but McGonagall stood quietly next to Snape’s lifeless body, a silent tear trickling down her face. They all stopped and turned. Snape's cold, empty eyes stared up at the equally empty sky, his black hair was bathed in a small puddle of accumulated blood. His long, black cloak spread over the ground under him.