I own nothing, not anything here any how. My 'friend' has been teasing me about Snape dying in the next book (Not long now folks!) and asked me how I want him to die. Not that I do. But if he must and all, this is how I want. A hero!!. I will cry. If you don't like it, sorry, tell me why, if you do, great! Tell me why! (Pleeeeeeeeeeeease this is a grown women grovelling for reviews…) Any mistakes please forgive.
Green flashes filled the air, the screams and curses of war seemed distant as he concentrated solely on staying alive. He had twice the trouble of everyone else, the Light thought he was Dark and vice versa. Only one man on each side believed he was theirs. Dodging a hastily shouted; "Impedimenta!" he shot an; "Petrificus Totalis!" and spun around to face the next opponent before Moody's body even hit the floor. Out of the thick of the battle he saw the two key players in this the final fight advance upon each other, both looked tired, they had been at it here, in the clearing, for hours. It would end here, of that he had no doubt, but how, he had not decided.
As he ran, dodging hexes and Avada Kedavras, shooting off a few of his own without really looking, he saw their wands raised for the final strike.
Both privately sure they would win and almost savouring the moment he was sure. He could understand that. As he arrived between them, they both turned fired up eyes upon him, one pair red and glad to see him, the other green, and narrowing with hate. The second they both snapped off him, two voices as one shouted; "Avada Kedavra!" filled with pure venom. Suddenly realising he had decided, he stepped calmly in front of one of the duellers, eyes only widening slightly in shock as the curse caught him in his chest. He crumpled silently to the floor, unable to hear the screams as hundreds of Death Eaters fell around the clearing, grasping at their left arms in agony.
McGonagall rushed over, dropping to her knees and gently stroking the dead mans face. As she looked up, tired green eyes met hers and she rasped through a teary voice, "It's over. Let us take him home." Needing no further instruction, the surviving members of the Order gathered around, casting hateful glances at the body of Voldemort, already shrivelling and turning into a dried husk. They hoisted the body up and carried it, ever so carefully, back to Hogwarts, in silence.
(If this looks funny, it's my won't let me post with proper spacing, tabs etc! Sorry.)