He was suddenly aware of a lack of solidity. His wound’s pain vanished with all pretence that what was happening now was in any way normal. Nothing was as it had been. His surroundings, his thoughts, his body, all had changed. It would have been stretching a point to say he stood up, for he merely unfolded in an upright manner and looked at his surroundings with half-hearted interest.

The soul, he decided, glancing around him, was something of a comedian to have brought him here. Spinner’s End looked the same as it always did; uncared for and dark. It was a place that he had used to suffocate the rest of the world and hide from it. Oh, Severus had been an adept hider of things, of himself, of his love. Why he had come back here was a mystery, one that he did not feel sufficiently composed to consider. Dying appeared to be a simple thing on the surface, but once you dived beneath that surface it was a murky world filled with ghastly surprises. A horrible thought seeped treacherously into his consciousness. What if he had become a ghost?

Surely, he thought, a thin, cold panic gripping what had been his bowels, you were given a choice about that?

Severus regarded his surroundings with a bitter, reluctant affection. That hideous wallpaper of his mother’s was still there, as dull and formless as she had been. She had never tried to put up a fight against life, rolling over like a kicked dog every time it did something nasty to her. The malevolent, sickly shade of the walls had become an unwritten obituary of her life. Moving through to the kitchen he had the briefest flash of a washed-out face looking up from the cooker, grabbing the wooden spatula that had been magically stirring the thin stew with a guilty look on her face. Relief had always banished the guilt when she realised it was only her son, not her husband. Her son didn’t hit her, although Severus recalled that he had grown increasingly difficult to handle as he grew older and more frustrated.

Continuing on through the house, almost against his will, he found that there was little here to provoke any sentiment in him. His seldom-slept in bed, a wardrobe, so little to explain his life to anyone coming after; but who would come and pick over his things? There was no one but some distant cousin of his mother’s. It had seemed the simplest course of action to leave the property to an unknown relative to dispose of as she would. The books, well, he had other plans for the books. He turned to leave, the manifestation of his body making a smooth arc in the air, and as he did so his eyes rested upon one small item that betrayed the fact that beneath his cold breast beat a heart that had some capacity beyond the merely functional.

He knelt towards it, or at least his knees appeared to bend in a very ethereal manner. He looked carefully at the face, traced its contours with eyes that had seen too much and not enough.

“And where are you now?� he asked. “Still with Potter, no doubt. What did I expect, Lily? What hopeful voice told me you might be here, waiting for me, waiting to give me what I could not have in life. What a fool I was, for all of those years! I loved a shade, but I loved it always. We cannot choose who we love, any more than we can choose who we are.� He turned his back swiftly on the picture, the distillation of air causing it to wobble and fall. “I begin to sound like Dumbledore, with his talk of souls and love and all that nonsense.�

“Severus.�

He reached to grip the door and forgot that feeling was for the living.

“Lily?� He dared not turn for fear that what remained of his mind was playing a desperate trick.

“I do not have long.� Her voice floated through the air, a song that he thought he would never hear again. “James wanted me to come, knew that time was short for you.�

At the mention of James he faced her, and his soul swayed. “You look so… here, and now, and alive.�

“As do you, Severus, but you know that is not so. Things are happening that we cannot control and I will be called away, soon. My son will require me, as he required you for so long.�

“Go? You have only just arrived.� Severus found the sight of her a bewildering sap on his remaining strength,

“You are fading,� she said. “You have nothing to hold you to what you once were. But I had to tell you, before you went, that I have always been grateful for what you did for Harry. I understand what went before and… I forgive you.�

He feasted on the honest look, the sincerity in her voice, and felt, finally, the relief of being released from a burden so long carried.

“I forgive you for what you did. You redeemed yourself many times over with my son. You were the father he could not have in life, despite your hard words to him. Neither of you understood. When I died I left so much behind, not least the love of my child and the love of a good friend. You must forgive me, Severus, for not appreciating you more when we were at school. I was very young, did not fully understand.�

“The fault was mine,� he replied finally. “I made the wrong choices. I… I destroyed when I could have saved. My family, my desire to be unlike them overrode any scrap of decency that I might have had. When you became attached to Potter, every hope I had of remaining your friend vanished and so, for a time, did my conscience.�

She nodded, bright hair catching the dregs of light from the window. “I have to say goodbye. I never did get to say goodbye in life.� Beneath her words was a longing to explore him further, but they both knew that this was impossible. There was not time.

“And must this be it?�

“I fear so, Severus. You always placed too much emphasis on the mind and not the soul. Your soul is preparing to move beyond this life.�

“The next great adventure,� he whispered, echoing Albus Dumbledore. “Dumbledore always did blabber on about it as if it were something to be grasped and enjoyed. I don’t know if I am ready to…�

She moved towards him. “Of all those I knew, you are the most ready for the next great adventure. You aren’t tied to the past like so many people; you can go now, without waiting to be pulled back by love. You can forget it, Severus, the old life, and embrace the new. For you, I think it will be the most wonderful thing that ever happened.�

A crack appeared in the air, voices, muffled sounds of battle. He looked to her, panic playing with his face. “What is that?�

“The Resurrection Stone,� she said, a tremble in her voice that Severus could not understand. “I have to go now, Severus. Harry is ready for us; we are ready for him.�

“Come on, Lily, we are waiting.� Severus felt a shaft of pain in his head as James Potter’s voice rent the air.

She looked at him, sadness and anticipation mingling on her features.

“You were loved, Severus. I always loved you, but I couldn’t love you in the way that you desired. You were my friend, always. Thank you.� Her arms encircled his shoulders and for the briefest of moments he actually felt them, felt the brush of her lips on his cheek, and then all was replaced by an iciness that crept slowly over him.

He was alone.

Severus turned towards the window and peered through the curtains at the street. It was the same as it ever had been, drab and tired-looking, a mirror for his own soul. Souls! He barked a quick laugh. He was starting to think like Dumbledore now – all these thoughts of souls. Minds, he insisted to himself with a firmness that made him uneasy, not souls, but minds.

And his own mind was drifting. He could feel parts of him disappearing, as if someone was slowly erasing sections of who he had been. Soon he would forget everything. Soon this place would be less than a memory. With a long breath of relief Severus Snape found that he was more than ready for the next great adventure. He hoped, as the shadow that he had become finally faded, that the next great adventure was considerably less eventful than the last.