A/N: Warning: Character Death (This is an end of life fic.)

The Harry Potter universe belongs entirely to JK Rowling and her book and film

Gentle reader, long after you and I are gone, Severus and Harry will have to face the end. I like to think that it might be something like what I've written here—no fancy fireworks, no long-winded declarations or speeches, just the two of them, facing death in the same way they lived their lives.

Going Gentle

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rage at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Dylan Thomas

Harry had given up on the Christmas tree in the early years. But then, not long after, Severus had acquiesced on gift-giving. Well, between themselves, at least.

In the general détente of those first years together, Severus had begrudgingly yielded on the family Christmas dinner. And in the spirit of meeting him halfway, Harry had ensured that they'd only spend the evening at the Burrow. Not that Severus complained much after the first year they'd gone, when Molly had served everything from eggnog and crown roast to roasted chestnuts and rum bread pudding.

Harry had finally admitted that sending out holiday cards was a foolish practice: after all, he only sent them to people he saw regularly, so Severus was right—what was the point anyway?

And now…now there were very few people left to even send them to. Coming from sturdy stock, Harry'd outlived his friends by decades. He was bent with rheumatism, sometimes painfully, while Severus was reaping the consequences of a life-long love affair with alcohol, his once swarthy complexion now yellow, the glittering black eyes slightly cloudy. They never complained to each other about their individual deficiencies, but weathered them in patient silence, as a part of life to be accepted and borne, just as they'd made the most of their robust constitutions of decades ago, when they'd both enjoyed the energy and longevity common to wizards in general.

As personalities, they were the stuff of legends nowadays. Few of their peers remained, so wizards and witches at school learnt of Severus and Harry from their history books, 'Hogwarts: A History,' and Frog cards. Some things never changed, it seemed.

OoooOOOOoooo

"Severus?"

"Hmm?"

Harry laid his book in his lap and stared into the fire for a moment before continuing. "I was thinking."

"Hummphff, I was wondering if you still could."

Harry poked him affectionately. "No, really, I'm being serious."

Severus gave a sigh. "All right. Go on, get it out so I can nap in peace."

Harry studied him, his lips pursed as he considered the silver-haired man beside him. "I'd say we're in our declining years, wouldn't you?"

Severus snorted. "That's an understatement. You can hardly walk and I can barely see. Not to mention that between the two of us, we get up at least ten times a night to take a piss."

Waving at him dismissively, Harry went on, "Don't you think about it at all? What it'll be like when one of us dies…you know, for the one who's left?"

Severus narrowed his eyes to a squint. "As you're the one who'll be left behind, I've not given it much thought, so it will be your problem, not mine."

Harry reached over and tapped Severus on the cheek. "Self-centered to the end, I see."

Severus caught the hand and squeezed the fingers gently. "I wouldn't want to disappoint you by changing now."

They sat together, not speaking for some time, until Severus took up the thread again.

"I have thought about it." He shot Harry a glance. "About my being the one left behind." When the grey-haired and slightly younger man patted Severus comfortingly on the knee, he finished, "Without my Harry. I don't think I'd much care for it."

"Me neither."

ooooOOOOoooo

They were sitting on a bench in the garden, enjoying the late afternoon sun with their tea. Harry poked at the dead leaves with his cane.

"Autumn's always been my favorite time of year." Despite the unseasonably warm weather, he pulled his cloak closer around him. "For some reason it seems unusually pretty this year, don't you think?"

"Hmm, I think you're correct, although I've always preferred winter myself."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, I know. It fits."

Severus smiled into his cup. "How…is it fitting?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe your frosty temperament…or the fact that you like velvet cloaks and knee-high leather boots over layers and layers of clothes." Harry slipped his hand into Severus'. "You've always latched on to any excuse to cozy up to the fire and occupy yourself with books for weeks on end."

"I've never needed any excuse to improve my mind," Severus scoffed. "But lately, "he sighed, "my concentration is failing, not to mention my eyesight."

"I don't mind being your eyes, Severus," Harry said gently. "Besides, you're my legs, for the most part."

"Wonderful, if we pool all our parts, we might actually qualify as a complete person."

"It sucks," Harry sighed. "But it's part of growing old gracefully—and it's only going to get worse."

Severus hesitated for a moment, then turned slightly on the bench. "Not if I have anything to say about it."

Harry laughed out loud. "What, you're going to cheat death, are you?"

Severus gave him a sardonic smile, then patted his hand. "Would you expect anything otherwise?"

Severus' comment was straight on the mark. They were soul-mates, of course, whose deep, abiding love, body, mind and spirit, had been literally and figuratively born out of ashes. But now, between the two of them, they possessed one functioning body, Harry the eyes, and Severus the able hands and feet: from reading and writing, to cooking and navigation, Harry saw and directed what Severus acted and accomplished. It was an easy and complementary existence, two separate parts working as one complete whole. And because they were Severus and Harry, they'd counted it a blessing.

But even blessings could overstay their welcome. And although Severus was the first to voice it, Harry had thought the same thing long ago.

ooooOOOOoooo

"Well, I shouldn't be surprised," Harry finally admitted, as he watched Severus set the potions bottle in front of him. "You've been thinking about this for some time, and you never let on." There was no accusation in his voice, only a slight resignation.

Severus shrugged as he tilted the bottle. "You can see by the date—I formulated this over ten years ago."

Harry shook his head. "I should've known—can't just go gentle into that good night, can you? Severus Snape must have a grand finale."

"It's nothing of the sort—it will be final, but not grand. As death comes to us all, I don't see the difficulty—when the 'when' is imminent, then what does it matter if I choose the 'how'?"

"It's not natural," Harry said with a marked lack of conviction.

"It's dignified, and as I've bent my will to all of life's unpleasant demands, this is a small thing to reserve as my own---the method of my leave-taking."

"What about me, Severus? How will I even begin to bear it?"

Severus would not meet his eyes. "You've always risen to the occasion where my welfare was concerned."

The once-famous green eyes, faded by the years, glinted with resolve. "I have, and I'm not about to change now, but do I really need to remind you that we've always done everything together?" He leant across the stained and scarred potions desk to tilt up Severus' chin.

"Not this time," Severus said cautiously, firmly but carefully cradling the hand at his face.

Harry picked up the phial to hold it to the light. "Looks like there's enough for two of us."

ooooOOOOoooo

Severus didn't put up much of a fight to quell Harry's spark of genius. In fact, all of his initial protestations had been met fair and square by a persistent logic that Severus could not debate. Of course, he did his best to play devil's advocate, but in the end, it was Harry who won the day, and Severus' approval. Neither one of them was surprised; as Harry had sagely pointed out, they'd done everything together for more decades than they cared to remember. It was fitting, they both thought, to take their final bow, hand-in-hand, the when and how and where known only to the two of them.

There was little preparation for them to leave; Severus had long ago set his affairs in order, and with his help, Harry set aside the few books and possessions he wished to leave to posterity.

The night before their planned escape, they sat in front of their sitting room fire with boxes of personal parchments and diaries—mostly chronicles of their long life together. They'd agreed that no part of these was anyone's business but their own. So they sat, sipping on Severus' favorite vintage, reminiscing as they tossed them, one by one, into the blazing hearth, laughing about memories, reflecting over milestones, but mostly, remembering the long, rewarding and fulfilling life they'd spent together.

When they were finished, they sat back on the settee with their legs propped up on the low table in front of them, fingers intertwined, as they quietly enjoyed their last evening in the familiar setting.

"What do you regret most?" Harry asked quietly.

Severus twirled the stem of the glass between his fingers. "Hmmm…at the top of that very long list, I'd have to say it was my being such a pompous ass." He let out a low laugh, then added, "Something of which you were on the receiving end quite often, not always undeservedly."

Harry smiled. "Yeah, I remember, but that was a long time ago."

"Tit for tat. You, then?"

"Oh, not too different from you. My self-righteous indignation. Remember how I used to have the answer to everything? "

"Used to?" Severus murmured, which earned him a pinch on the thigh.

There was no further conversation, as they both lounged contentedly in the warmth.

Severus finally broke the silence with, "You, though. You were a surprise, the best one of my life—even after all these years, I still have moments when I'm overwhelmed…that you'd love me at all."

"Nah, I've always thought I was the lucky one…. you loving me, even though I can count on one hand how many times you've said it," Harry teased.

Severus pulled him closer, using the arm draped around Harry shoulders. "How many times?"

Harry gave him a sideways glance. "How many times what?"

"How many times have I told you?" Severus asked quietly.

"Oh. Let me see: there was that first time, right after you'd hexed me; then that Christmas at the Weasleys when Ron called you a…never mind; then that night, the first time we fucked, and I think the last time must've been…whoa, that was ages ago, you know, just after we bought the house…" He paused, and Severus rolled his eyes as Harry counted on his fingers. "So, I guess it was four, all told."

Severus captured the hand with the four extended fingers, then slowly unfolded Harry's thumb. "If I'd known how much it meant for you to hear me say it, I'd have said it more. Let's make it a handful, then." Raising the hand to his face, he kissed the palm of it, then turned to murmur at Harry's ear. "I love you."

Harry turned, wincing as his leg twisted with the effort. Stroking a thumb over Severus' lower lip, he leant in to say the words close to Severus' face, "I know. I love you too."

It was a long, leisurely kiss, practiced over the years, lips and tongues that knew each other so well…so often…so passionately. When they finally pulled apart, Harry groaned.

"God, I'm hard as a rock. Don't you miss fucking, Severus? I can't remember when we last—" He gasped as Severus began to stroke him through his trousers.

"Shhh. We may not fuck, but you've still got that talented mouth, and my hand hasn't forgotten what you like," Severus turned sideways on the settee as he worked at Harry's fly.

Giving a weak laugh, Harry reached over and began to undo the buttons of Severus' shirt, softly cursing at the stiffness in his fingers. "Yeah, the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak."

Severus disagreed, "Oh, I think you're wrong on that account." He undid his own fly and gently pushed Harry's head into his lap. "I'd say the flesh is very willing, wouldn't you agree?"

Harry mumbled his agreement around his mouthful.

ooooOOOOoooo

The next morning before daybreak, Severus and Harry Side-Along Apparated to the site they'd mutually decided was the most fitting for their final exit.

The sun was about to come up over the lake as they made their way the short distance to the old man's tomb. They stood side by side for a few moments, each of them silently bidding him farewell.

"He'd have been proud of us," Harry said, at last turning to Severus.

"Yes, I'm certain he would've," Severus agreed.

"I've been thinking…" Harry trailed off as they studied the time-worn epitaph on the stone.

"Thinking about what?" Severus asked as he bent down to smooth the etching with his fingertips.

"When you die, is there anything, you know, afterward? I've always thought there must be; being alive, well, you put off thinking about it. But now…the last few days…" He watched as Severus straightened to turn to him, his silver hair blowing gently in the breeze.

"I believe there is. I've never doubted it, in fact," Severus told him soberly.

"How can you be so sure?" Harry asked, running a hand over the lapel of Severus' robes.

"Albus spoke to me about it, on more than one occasion—he was quite emphatic on the subject."

Harry smiled. "All right, that's it, then. He'd be the one to know, wouldn't he?" When Severus nodded, Harry dropped his hands to Severus'.

They took their time studying each other's faces. Except for their obvious advanced ages, the couple seemed to belong here, where they stood, hands clasped together.

They'd scorned the beautiful and varied ceremonial robes they'd both collected over their colorful lifetimes, so Severus stood garbed in his simple and austere Hogwarts Potions master robes, while Harry wore his distinctive seventh-year Gryffindor ones.

Severus drank from the phial first, then handed the remainder to Harry, and watched, eyes glittering like they'd done of old, as Harry threw his head back and swallowed it down.

"Ready?" Severus asked, extending his arm.

Harry tossed his cane aside, then took the arm and tucked it in against his chest. "Ready," he calmly replied.

They searched each other's eyes one last time, then leant together for a chaste but tender kiss. Skirting the tombstone, the two of them walked, Severus matching his pace to Harry's slower one, while Harry guided them toward their destination.

The sunrise was almost upon them, heralded by birdsong and a crimson and azure light just above the horizon. It broke into day, just as the two of them reached the Forbidden Forest.

There was a pause as they halted, then when they took their next steps towards the trees, they shimmered into a silvery mist that disappeared into nothingness in the red and gold of the woodland.

The autumn wind blew the leaves up against the century-old gravestone, covering the phial that lay, empty, at its base.

FIN