Here is the last chapter - I have been dancing in the woods celebrating Beltaine - sorry to keep you waiting!

*

Chapter 5
I Would Rather Be Anywhere Else But Here Today

It was a moment that Remus Lupin would recall with clarity for the rest of his life.

Time seemed to slow down as the tall, hooded figure fell and then lay still, bathed in green light from Voldemort's wand. Dimly, Lupin was aware of the angry shouts and cries of horror from everyone on the steps around him. Only Dumbledore was silent. The old man looked on at the scene before him with a curiously impassive expression.

A tiny part of Lupin's mind hung on to a wild and desperate hope - perhaps this man behind the mask was not Severus? Perhaps this was all a twisted and cruel joke perpetrated by Voldemort? But in his heart, Lupin knew this was not the case. The way the figure had stood - rigidly erect, shoulders back and head held proudly, even arrogantly, high - had been achingly familiar. Even before the man had spoken, Lupin had felt his stomach knot and his breathing quicken with certain recognition. The rumbling baritone with which his few words had been uttered was confirmation. That voice could have belonged to no other.

Then, as if to leave absolutely no doubt in the minds of the observers on the castle steps as to the man's identity, the hood of his cloak slipped back a little and some of Severus' unmistakable, unruly black hair spilled out - long, dark strands falling across the blank and motionless silver mask.

Severus Snape was dead.

Lupin turned to Dumbledore.

'You sent him back, didn't you?' Lupin whispered, his voice tight and hoarse with barely supressed emotion. 'You sent him back to spy again, and now he's dead. Why didn't you stop this? Why are you allowing this to happen?'

The Headmaster met his gaze and, as he looked into those bright blue eyes, it felt to Lupin that Dumbledore attempted to reach into the depths of his soul to comfort him.

'I'm so sorry, Remus.'

Lupin turned away, mute with anger and grief.

'Trust him, Remus,' he heard himself think. 'If you do not, then all hope is lost.'

Everyone else standing by the Headmaster had fallen silent as well. Lupin wondered if perhaps they had the same thought as himself.

'Wormtail!' called Voldemort harshly. 'I know that you are able to perform this preparation, it is quite simple.'

'As you command, Master.'

Wormtail came forward, took the leaf and placed it in the cauldron. After a short time, he removed it from the flames and swirled it around, before pouring the liquid and the remainder of the leaf into the golden goblet. He then approached Voldemort and presented it to him.

Voldemort took the goblet and held it aloft as he turned to the Death Eaters. His eyes blazed with victory.

'To Salazar Slytherin,' he cried. 'His heir shall reign - forever!'

As they cheered, Voldemort drained the goblet and threw it to the ground. He turned back to the small group standing on the castle steps and bowed ironically.

'Headmaster, I thank you for your time. My apologies that you shall now have to find a replacement for one of your teaching staff, although -' he smiled cruelly, '- as I shall be visiting again very soon, that may perhaps not be necess-'

He broke off and staggered backwards, clutching at his stomach. Several Death Eaters moved forwards to aid their master. But before they reached him, Voldemort's body folded to the ground.

'Nnnnooooooooooo.......!'

The scream was high-pitched, inhuman and savage. The figure on the ground that was Voldemort was writhing madly and increasingly being hidden by thick, black smoke.

Lupin fought back a primitive instinct to run, and felt his flesh crawl with revulsion.

Voldemort was burning from the inside outwards.

Frantically, he mouthed spells. Lupin caught snatches of Latin and Ancient Greek, then a language, perhaps older, that he did not recognise.

Nothing worked. Voldemort continued to burn.

Flames were engulfing Voldemort's torso and rising towards his face. He rolled on the ground, his arms flailing wildly at himself, but to no avail. The fire that came from within him and was consuming him could not be staunched.

Finally, sharply hissed siblants reached Lupin's ears. Voldemort was speaking Parseltongue.

The masks of the Death Eaters near him were illuminated by the obscene glow of their master's rapidly incinerating body. They stood silent and frozen in shock. Only Wormtail attempted to get close, his silver hand outstretched towards the flames it reflected. But he was finally beaten back by the intense heat.

Voldemort was now a dark mass at the centre of the fierce flames and acrid smoke. Globs of blackened flesh began to fall from his body, but still he continued to hiss the indecipherable language of the serpent.

In the grass, through the smoke, Lupin caught sight of the quick movement of a snake. It had thick black zig-zag markings running along the length of its body - an adder. It raised itself up like a cobra and moved its head back, loosening its jaws and widening its mouth until it gaped as if attempting to swallow an egg whole. Then, a thin plume of grey smoke rose from Voldemort's immolated form and arced downwards, straight between those waiting jaws.

At that moment there was a yell. The squat, thick-set man who had been holding Sirius Black had fallen to the ground and was clutching his head. Sirius was free, having somehow escaped the chain that bound him. He had ripped the mask from the other Death Eater standing next to him. This was a much smaller and thinner man, who was struggling vainly to escape. Black grabbed him by the throat and brought his fist down into the man's face with a powerful stabbing motion. The Death Eater shrieked and his hands moved to his right eye, from which something small and silver protruded. Then he fell forwards and, abruptly, he stopped shrieking.

By this time, the Death Eaters were in disarray and a number of them had already begun to flee back in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. The remainder, faced with increasingly less favourable odds and the now lifeless, smouldering remains of their master, hesitated only briefly before turning and following.

Dumbledore watched them as they disappeared from view, then descended the flight of stone steps and approached Voldemort's charred body. He bent down and picked up the silver torq, carefully wiping ash from it with his fingers. Dumbledore held it up and inspected it in the light streaming from the Entrance Hall. Despite the inferno it had been within, it appeared unmarked.

'I believe our next meeting may not be quite as soon as you had hoped,' he said softly, and placed the torq in one of the pockets in his robes.

He looked up at the figures standing on the steps watching him.

'Colleagues - friends,' he said gravely. 'Tonight we have faced danger together and survived - together. Make no mistake though, Voldemort may be gone, but as he promised, he will return. We must continue our work to strengthen the Order of the Phoenix if we are to see him destroyed forever.'

He turned to Siruius Black, who now stood beside him.

'Let us be thankful that one of our number has returned safely to us.'

'And let us remember, Albus, the one of our number who did not.' Professor McGonagall's voice contained none of its usual sharpness.

'Indeed, Minerva,' said Dumbledore. 'Severus gave the ultimate sacrifice and we will never forget that. I will never forget that. Yes, Remus - he was at Voldemort's side because I sent him there as my agent. But he was aware of the dangers, and accepted them. I know that some of you here have doubted his loyalties in the past. Tonight, he proved you mistaken.'

There were murmurs of assent - even, Lupin noted, from Alastor Moody.

'It is late,' continued the Headmaster. 'Please - return to your beds. We will speak further in the morning.'

Silently, everyone departed, except for Lupin. He stood motionless at the top of the steps, as if gathering his courage.

Black started to move towards him.

'No, Sirius - give him a moment,' said Dumbledore quietly.

Black turned to the Headmaster, a puzzled expression on his face, but he stayed where he was.

Lupin walked slowly down the steps and then across the grass towards Snape's body. Part of him - most of him - did not want to, and screamed at the rest of him to follow the others' example and go quietly to a potion-induced dreamless sleep. Yet he kept on walking. His legs did not seem to be listening. Instead, they brought him resolutely to the spot where the man he loved lay dead.

He crouched down and removed the mask from Severus' face.

Severus' eyes were open, their black depths dulled and unfocused. His mouth was curled into a slight smile. He looked peaceful - relieved, even.

'Precious friend ... hid in death's dateless night,' murmered Lupin.

He touched his fingers lightly on the pale skin of Severus' throat. There was no pulse, of course. Gently, he closed the dead man's eyes.

'Journey well, Severus,' he whispered.

Lupin looked up and saw Dumbledore standing next to him, holding the golden goblet that Voldemort had drunk from.

'I'm sorry to intrude, Remus,' he said softly, crouching down next to Lupin. 'But there is something that I would like you to do for Severus.'

Lupin stared at him blankly.

'What do you mean, Headmaster? What can I possibly do for him now?'

'Do this, Remus. You see that there is a little liquid left at the bottom of this goblet? Dip your finger in it, and place a drop on Severus' lips.'

Lupin staggered back, aghast.

'My god, no - I won't do it! I've seen what that leaf does! Severus is dead, do you want to deny me a body to bury?'

'I understand your concern,' Dumbledore soothed, 'but please - trust me.'

He held out the goblet and, reluctantly, Lupin took it and followed Dumbledore's instructions.

'Now,' said Dumbledore, 'do the same for yourself.'

Lupin hesitated, then did so.

'Why ...?' he began.

'You will see,' said the Headmaster, standing up carefully.

Dumbledore walked towards Black and smiled.

'I think Remus would like to see you now, Sirius,' he said.

Lupin saw Black approach, but did not rise from Snape's side.

'Well, I guess you've finally got what you wanted, Sirius - after all these years,' he said quietly.

Black regarded Snape's body for a moment before he replied.

'What I wanted twenty years ago, Remus, wasn't what I wanted now,' he said heavily.

'He was a good man,' said Lupin, looking up at his old friend. 'I want you to know that.'

'I know, Remus.'

Absently, Lupin smoothed back a lock of Snape's tousled black hair. It was a small gesture, but one that did not pass unnoticed.

'Remus, was ... was there ... something between you and Snape?' asked Sirius, as calmly and gently as he could manage.

Lupin hesitated.

Why fight this battle with Sirius now, now of all times, now that Severus is dead? Why not let the past lie undisturbed?

He shook his head.

'I - er - did admire him, Sirius. He ... he helped me a lot, last year ... but no - there wasn't.'

He stood up and thrust his hands deep into the pockets of his robes.

'You always were an appallingly bad liar, Lupin,' sneered an icy cold voice from the ground.

'Severus?' Lupin looked down into the now open, and furious, dark eyes beneath him. 'How ...?'

'How are you feeling, Severus?' asked Dumbledore.

'Much better than a moment ago, Headmaster.' Snape's lips twisted briefly into a sardonic smile and then, slowly, he sat up.

'Headmaster, how can this ...?' Lupin began to ask again.

'Myths and legends, Remus, are often a reflection of people's hopes and desires,' said Dumbledore. 'People believe what they wish to, and ignore everything else.'

Lupin shook his head, uncomprehending.

Dumbledore smiled and continued.

'How do we define a plant that acts to restore the dead back to life, without making that plant sound as if it is the means of gaining life eternally? It is a matter of semantics and difficult enough to explain now, let alone across the span of thousands of years.'

He paused.

'Do you know of Aesclepius, Remus?'

Lupin furrowed his brow and thought for a moment.

'I'm not sure ... a Greek god, wasn't he?'

'Yes, that's right, but it is believed that he was also once a man, a great healer. It is said that as he was out walking, a serpent coiled itself around his staff. Alarmed, he crushed and killed it. A second serpent then appeared, bearing a leaf which it placed in the dead serpent's mouth, and revived it. Aesclepius took a piece of the leaf and with it was able to bring his patients back from the dead. What you administered to Severus is what Aesclepius called 'The Deathless Drink' ... it grants a return from death, but not immortality.'

Dumbledore looked back at Snape, who was listening intently.

'Severus, you will enter into the great adventure just like the rest of us, but you have been given the gift of life for a second time. Use it well.'

'But what of Voldemort?' asked Black suddenly. 'If the leaf brings people back to life, why did it destroy him - well, his body at least?'

'Yes, I was coming to that, Sirius,' replied Dumbledore. 'The leaf is a powerful curative indeed, as you have seen. But some ailments are beyond even its powers. Some sicknesses run too deep, and death is the only cure.'

'So that is why you did nothing tonight, when Voldemort appeared with the leaf,' mused Lupin. 'What made you so certain, though?'

'Over fifty years of study, Remus, mixed with a little common sense and experience. The charm that Salazar Slytherin created to open the torq was what really gave it away, however. Benedictovitae - blessing of life. Life can only be a blessing when we are given another chance to live it, in all its fleeting beauty. I know very well from many long nights talking with my old friend Nicolas Flamel that life, if gained for an eternity, eventually becomes a burden not a blessing, something to be endured rather than lived.

'So,' said Snape slowly, 'You knew all along what the Ouroboros contained - that it was not the leaf of Gilgamesh, but rather that of Aesclepius. You knew that what Voldemort believed would bring him eternal life would, in fact, bring about his destruction.'

'Severus, don't you see?' exclaimed Dumbledore. 'They are one and the same. Gilgamesh's leaf never brought eternal life, it was just that many of those interpreting the Epic belived it to be so, because they wanted it to be so.'

'Oh yes, Headmaster - I am beginning to see ... but what of the 'flower of youth'? Surely, that is different?'

'Ah.' Dumbledore paused and smiled, the lines around his dancing blue eyes creasing even deeper. 'Merely a side-effect. The leaf has rejuvinative as well as curative properties. Taking it causes a person to, er - very soon appear somewhat more youthful than they did previously.'

*

Severus Snape put down his quill and pushed the roll of parchment away from him across the desk. Finally, the damned report for the Ministry of Magic was finished - three feet in total, covered in his dense and angular writing.

He blew out the guttering candle. Not that it made much difference. The light of the full moon streamed through the open window of his bedchamber, bright and silver. He could almost have read by it.

It was full of lies, of course. No, he thought, correcting himself in Ministry-speak. He had 'not judged it prudent to be liberal with the facts of certain events'. Most notably, one event in particular.

At dawn the following morning - this morning, after a short but deep and restful sleep, he had returned to Voldemort's manor house. Dumbledore had advised against it, especially his going alone.

'Leave it to my contacts at the Ministry, they will clear it up. That's their job, Severus,' he had warned.

But Snape was determined that he would be the one to clear up his own mess.

As he had suspected, the place was deserted. It had not taken him long to find her, and he made short work of the door. Why bother to Wizard-lock a room occupied only by a Muggle?

He had not considered what her reaction to his arrival might be, now that his Imperius curse had undoubtedly worn off. He had deliberately forced the thought from his mind whenever it had arisen. Snape only hoped vaguely that she was not an expert in some deadly Eastern martial art.

To his eternal relief, she was not. As he swung open the door of the tiny, filthy cell, Nina simply looked up at him and began to weep.

In many ways, this was worse. Physical pain he could have comprehended and dealt with.

He looked at her for a moment, unsure of how to respond.

'I'm not here to hurt you, Nina, I swear it. You will be safe now. I've come to take you home. Do you understand?'

She nodded and he sat down gingerly on the edge of the narrow bed.

How many times did I enter one of these cells and 'safe' would have been the very last thing the person inside it was? Merlin, why do I still live and breathe?

Nina's crying did not diminish. She hid her face behind her hands, her body shaking. Snape hesitated, then leaned forwards and wrapped his arms around her. She buried her face in his chest and sobbed while he gently stroked her hair and concentrated on examining the brickwork in the wall behind her. They remained like that until she grew quiet. He had held her for a long time.

In her cramped and untidy flat in north London he had waited, sipping a mug of strong black coffee, while she showered and changed. He fingered the phial of Memoriadeleo. He had to use it. If he didn't, the Ministry would.

She had looked better, but only a little, when she re-appeared, drying her hair with a towel.

'You seem different, Severus,' she said. 'Is it supposed to have that effect, er - you know ...' her voice trailed off. '... on my memory?'

'You mean the ... controlling spell that I cast on you yesterday?' he asked slowly.

'Yes.'

'No.'

'Oh. So ... why do you look so much ... oh, I don't know ...'

Snape got up and inspected his features in the mirror above the fireplace. She was correct, he did look different, he had to admit. He had noticed it earlier, while shaving, but now it was even more evident. The small lines around the corners of his eyes were gone, as were those across his forehead. His skin looked clearer. It felt more ... taut, and had a certain glow about it. As for his hair ... he could not recall when it had ever been this sleek or soft. Only the vertical crease between his brows, which had been there since he was a young man, remained - although perhaps slightly less pronounced. He was relieved about this. If it vanished too, he would have difficulty recognising the face in the mirror as his own.

'Younger?' he asked tersely.

'Well, yes.'

'If I told you, you would not believe me, Nina,' he said, sitting back down on the sofa and crossing his legs.

'Try me.' Her voice was suddenly serious, and hard as steel.

'Are you going to go to the police?' Snape asked quietly.

'What would I tell them? "Officer - I wish to report a crime. Yesterday, I was kidnapped by a wizard, who cast a spell on me which made me do anything he wanted. I helped him to steal a priceless solid silver Celtic torq from my employers, and then we beamed over to his deranged boss's house, whose servant locked me in a cell all night." I would be sectioned faster than you can say "Mental Health Act".'

He chuckled.

'Seeing as you put it that way ... Oh - ' he reached into his robes and pulled out the torq. 'This is yours, I think.'

He placed it on the coffee table. Nina looked at it as if it was about to explode.

'It's empty,' he re-assured her. 'No-one will come for it now.'

For a moment, there was silence between them.

'So when are you going to do it, then?' she asked suddenly.

'I beg your pardon?'

' "Administer Memoriadeleo",' she quoted him. 'I can read Latin, Severus. Memoriadeleo? When are you going to cast this spell to wipe my memory of everything that's happened?'

He regarded her for a moment and then shook his head.

'I'm not.'

'What?'

I'm required to use this ... spell on you, but I will not.'

'Why?'

'I was not entirely truthful with you before, Nina. Yes, you would remember nothing of the past twelve hours. You would also remember nothing, nothing whatsoever, of your life up until this moment. I will not do that to you, no matter what the consequences to myself.'

She was quiet and looked away, biting her lip.

'What might be the consequences?'

'I don't know. Az - prison, I would imagine.'

'There is a prison for wizards?'

'Yes.' A strange, indecipherable expression crossed his face and then was gone.

'Is there anything I can do to help ... to stop that happening, I mean?'

He leaned forwards, his eyes locked on hers.

'Do not say a word about ... recent events, to anyone. Return the torq immediately, then visit your doctor for advice about your 'blackout' that occurred from around 6pm yesterday until you woke up in your bed this morning. My superiors -' he sneered the word '- will be certain to check on my compliance with their regulations via your medical records. I shall have to explain the er - spell's failure to work properly ...' He smiled ruefully. 'A dent in my professional reputation will be an unfortunate, though necessary, price to pay.'

'All right, Severus. I'll do that ... for you.'

'You must - for your own sake, as well as mine,' he said sharply.

He rose from the sofa.

'I must depart, I have much to attend to.'

Nina stood up as well.

'Will I see you again?' she asked.

He fixed her with his piercing black eyes.

'Do you wish to?'

He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow as he waited for her response.

'Yes, ' she said quietly. 'I want you. You know that.'

He moved faster, and more gracefully, than she would have believed possible. In a moment he had crossed the room and was in front of her, his lips brushing against hers, then across her neck and reaching her ear. She closed her eyes to better savour the sensations. He begain to whisper softly. The combination of his seductive yet arrogant voice, the dark, explicit words that he used and his hot breath on her skin sent shivering waves of pleasure rolling deliciously down Nina's spine. Inadvertently, she let out a slight moan.

When he finished speaking she kept her eyes closed and nodded her assent -

'Yes. Oh god - yes ...' she breathed.

When she opened her eyes, he had gone.

*

Snape rolled the thick yellow parchment into a tight cylinder, tied it with black ribbon and placed it in the top drawer of his desk. He reached up to close the window and, as he did so, caught sight of a solitary figure standing by the shore of the lake.

He paused and watched for a moment, before realising who the distant figure, face uplifted to the moon as if drinking in its light, must be.

It was Remus Lupin.

He closed the window quietly.

'All you needed to say was "Yes", Remus,' Snape whispered sadly.

He turned away from the window and stared at the coiled black leather whip that lay on his bedside table. He picked it up and, without looking back, strode towards the door.

---

Author's note: I wanted to write a happy one. Really, I did. But they wouldn't let me. Sorry.