Poignant story, well done.

You made me cry. It's a one-chapter story and not the first time I've read it, but you made me cry.

Merlin! I'm...
Crying waterfalls doesn't really agree with incessant coughing of my illness. Always a danger of choking.
By Aslan's mane, this is so totally brilliant.
This is so horrendously sad. I just can't stop crying...
But darn, you are so GOOD here... *standing ovations*

very good

Wow, so hauntingly written. I loved Snape's snarky mask and catching glimpses of the emotional Slytherin hiding beneath. There was just the right touch of humor to add onto the sorrow and drama that made this fic perfect.

*sniff* Oh that was so sad, touching and emotionally powerful!
'"Can I go home? Professor Snape said . . .” he struggles for breath “I was all done. Can I go home now, Padfoot?"

'There is a moment of stillness amid the sounds of post-war-- screams, groans, sobs –with Potter's fingers suddenly clenched in Black's bloodstained robe, while the question descends on the minds of the listeners and what the boy is truly asking sinks in.
Not so incoherent after all.'

'The Potters have at last come for their son.'
That was just pure brilliance, that had me! :D

Every time I read this story it sends shivers up my spine, good job.

This is a very powerful story, and beautifully written.

Waw. Such a beautiful and sad story... I want to cry! :(

That was amazing. I loved the part where Sirius MIGHT have hung himself with his own belt. I hate him so much ...well, when he's not having sex with Sev, anyway. THAN he's an alright guy.

Oh wow! Now this one hurts! Great piece! Such a painful place for Snape to be in, Sirius and Harry's last little exchange is really beautiful and haunting. Great piece!

Sometimes, a story comes along that you're afraid is too good to leave a review for, because, really, anything one has to say is sort of flailing and insignificant in the face of a staggering talent like this...

But then I think, or at least try to, that people like feedback, and flail on.

So...

"And then I feel it, the prickling along the back of my neck. It is not the cold touch of ghosts, but something much more otherworldly.

I like very much the "I feel it, the..." The way all of this is put together, the stream-of-consciousness that senses things, then loops back to qualify them, is part of what give this its incredible power...

"And dogs can sense spirits, and Black being more dog than anything is sitting ramrod straight...

Also love how each of these paragraphs started with an "And". While I'm at it, I love love LOVE the title - witty and heartwrenching. *shakes head in amazement* Wow.

"These have come with purpose.

(When Harry was little he used to dream when he was locked up in his cupboard, dream that someday, someone would come for him, that it would have been a mistake, that his parents were alive and wanted him.)"

Haven't read others' reviews, but I'd be very surprised if this wasn't the point where - like me - readers actually break down and start bawling like babies. This is where the teras started and just slowed quietly through to the end. Snape's PoV is so grteat fo rthis and you do it so well, calm and bitter and with that carefully repressed undercurrent of feeling, so much so that he has to qualify what he says to be sure it isn't sarcasm "How touching. Really."

I also really like the parentheses, they remove us a little and hurt all the more, and I love the way you flow the first bit along without pucntuation "When Harry was little he used to dream when he was locked up in his cupboard," and then the way you repeat "dream", qualifying it, "dream that someday, someone would come for him, (and again the repetition with variation "someday, someone" that it would have been a mistake, that his parents were alive and wanted him.)" and again "that it wouldhave been...that his parents"... And of course, the "wanted him" that is so heartbreaking.

"The Potters have at last come for their son.

The stream of charms die on my lips. (Aw. Oh, do you think 'dies' here?) Slowly I pull back my bloodstained hand from the hole in his chest (and how graphic is that?) and his breathing hitches as the painful pressure is released. (Love the way this functions on two levels, the metaphorical nad the physical... because the 'painful pressure' is released from his life, too. The obligation.)

"Only stupid Gryffindors press on in vain, fighting against ridiculous odds for no reward, no reason. Better to save your strength and be sensible. (And how nice is it that we sense the regret, even through the litany of should-bes?) Gryffindors never accomplish anything of merit but getting themselves killed. (And it's so nice that you can feel the regret through the habitual mocking words - after all, "wrong, all wrong" and yet, the eminently reasonable realization that this is what Hsrry wants, and he should have it.)

"The Dark Lord’s corpse taunts me from the corner of my eye.

I sit back on my heels, empty so empty.

There is nothing I can do."

I love the lack of punctuation in "Empty so empty." Usually I love commas, but this - it's like the bottom dropping out. The collapse of measured Snape's measured words. And the paragraphing here, and throughout as well, is so poignant - the short sentences really work. (Urgh, see, that you produce something so wonrdefrul and all one can say is something lame like "really work". Ugh!)

And this amazing, agonizing... "His green eyes, one dilated, the other the white blotted out with blood stare up in amazement at the words. And he smiles, and it was strange and disquieting to see, because I've never seen the boy so happy as now, and wasn't that wrong, all wrong that only now, only here . . .

I think it's the italics that slay me. Oh no, starting to cry again... the 'and's, all the repetitions, 'wrong', 'only now, only here', but more, the power of the image: "His green eyes, one dilated, the other the white blotted out with blood" - what a disquieting, raw, immediate image, and then the smile, the realization "never seen the boy so happy as now" - just there are no words.

"I popped the black box closed and couldn't banish the thought of another closed box, with gold handles and a varnished surface covered in lilies.(Which is a nice touch, of course, and the parallel black boxes are too.)

"If I was some pathetic Gryffindor I would no doubt consol[e] myself with thoughts of a black haired green eyed boy celebrating his birthday with his very first party with his family.

(But I'm not, I'm not.)

For some reason this lifts this story up - it didn't read like that at first, but no, I'm tempted to say "I'm not I'm not I'm NOT! WAH!" Which is in-character for Snape, anyway - sometimes you feel he works so hard at being mean that he overdoes it. But it is a lovely image, a lovely ending, and no less sad - it doesn't cheapen, it just builds on the spirits in the battlefield, come to take him home at last: "a black[-]haired green[-]eyed boy celebrating his birthday with his very first party with his family."

(BTW, I LOVED the:

"Can I go home? Professor Snape said . . .” he struggles for breath “I was all done. Can I go home now, Padfoot?"

There is a moment of stillness amid the sounds of post-war-- screams, groans, sobs –with Potter's fingers suddenly clenched in Black's bloodstained robe, while the question descends on the minds of the listeners and what the boy is truly asking sinks in.
Of course, you make us, as readers, realize it a few lines earlier, so we are free to watch the adults' reaction, to watch it sink in.

And I was oddly moved by "He will give Potter anything, he always has-- to both father and son. Give anything the boy wants, even this, even . . . permission." *cries again*

Anyway - the last line is so wonderful - wth the implicit answer to the title, and the gentle irony:(But I'm not, I'm not.)

Do you have a shrine at which readers can worship?

Br... This story still sends shivers up my spine every time i read it. Good job

uh I guess its ok...
no offence

*pauses to wipe tears out of eyes* Perfect, perfect perfect! I don't mind how the ending went in cannon, exactly, but the fact that the most dramatic moment of the story was, shall we say, Hamlet-esque, doesn't sit well with me. This is stronger, less "Oh what a rogue and peasant slave am I" and more "The rest is silence" (aka boring Hamlet versus good Hamlet). This was *lovely*; it reminded me so strongly of Forrest Gump (which I must say has been done to death, but this is a part that hasn't). Kudos, sir/ma'am!