Summary: What if the Golden Trio were a really self-centered squeamish bunch? A small scribble I threw together.

I don't do flourished disclaimers. This is a non-profit fan fiction site and I think that's enough of a statement.

The Nearly Majestic Passing of a Hero

A last gurgling breath escaped the throat of the fallen wounded Snape as he hungrily gazed in to the eyes of a petrified Harry. His hand suddenly let go of its super-human grasp on the boy's shirt and his head fell sideways with a thud.

Harry remained frozen, with all the composure of a deer caught in the head lights.

"I think he's dead!" squeaked Hermione while peeking from behind her fingers, much like a child watching a horror flick.

Harry snapped from shock, bolted upright and retreated into the opposite corner of the room.

Ron took his courage to poke Snape in the shoulder with a stick to make sure.

"Yep, he's dead-dead" he acknowledged.

"Ugh! Nasty!"

Harry recoiled in sickness as he kept the vial with the now dead man's memories as far away from himself as possible.

Hermione made a move to remove her hands from her face, took one good look at Snape and pulled them shut together again while turning away.

"Oh my God, his eyes are still opened! Harry, close them!"

"I took the gooey stuff AND he smeared his blood all over me! I'm NOT touching him again! You close them!"

"I'm not going near that thing! Ron?"

Ron fidgeted.

"Why me? I don't want to do it either! Let's just leave him like he is."

"But he's staring at us like a dead fish!" whined the girl.

"Geez, Hermione, he's already bloody and torn… I thought he was going to take me with him when he clutched me like that! I'm not gonna sleep soundly for a month!" said Harry.

Ron mumbled in his corner:

"I always said he would end up like this, but, blimey, did he have to do it right in front of us? That's one horrible death. He could have had the decency to wait for us to leave first! Trust Snape to ruin your appetite 'n everything!"

Hermione became pale and green around the edges.

"I think I'm gonna be sick!"

She rushed outside into a bush where she proceeded to empty her stomach in a loud manner.

"I'm gonna go help her! I'm not spending another second in here. Besides, I've never been good at eulogies 'n stuff!"

With that Ron took one last glance at Snape and muttering "Nice knowing you!" rushed after Hermione.

"Hey, don't leave me alone with him! HEY!" Harry shouted helplessly after his friends.

With an effort he approached the bloody squashed mess of black robes that his former professor was reduced to. Gingerly squatting as far away as possible, his head half turned and protecting one hand with his sleeve, he clumsily tried to close Snape's eyes. Fighting another wave of nausea coming over him, he thought he saw the glimpse of a frozen sneer on the dead man's lips.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you? You slimy bastard!"

With that remark, the Boy Who Lived rose and exited with a stiff demeanor, still carrying the vial at an arms' length from his own person.

The rapidly cooling remains of Severus Snape, teacher, headmaster, repented Death Eater and hero, were left to fend for themselves on the floorboards of the dusty room with all the dignity of road kill.

A ghostly appearance sighed as it hovered over them.

"Exactly how those three are supposed to save the Wizarding World is truly beyond me!"