Severus Snape had done a great many things in the past score of years that he thought he'd never do.
Severus Snape had looked upon Lily Evans with eyes that told him that no one belonged at Hogwarts more, purely because Severus was there, and Lily Evans belonged nowhere but with him.
Severus Snape had dealt more harm to the woman he loved, one of the few people he loved, in his lifetime than he could remedy.
Severus Snape had depended on someone. He had let his emotions run away from him, and had shown everything but his usual contempt for one redheaded angel.
Severus Snape had fallen to the Dark Arts, determined to kill and torture the race that had carried his head and heart for nearly a decade.
Severus Snape had begged. He had pleaded for Albus Dumbledore to help him, to save the woman he adored.
Severus Snape had resigned himself to a life of good deeds. He devoted himself to protecting the child of a great enemy, a child that should have been his.
Severus Snape killed the only person who still trusted him, hating with no bridled fire the task that was set upon him.
Severus Snape saw Lily Evans's eyes again, looking back at him before his world faded to darkness.
There was one thing that Severus did that he expected, however. Severus Snape died.
The afterlife was as full of surprises as its predecessor.
Severus Snape went to heaven.
Severus Snape saw not only the lingering green eyes he remembered from his last moment of life, but also the mane of red hair, the delicate face, and the warm smile.
Severus Snape came home.