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    Summary

    He cannot discern his skin from the weightless darkness. Occasionally, if he turns this way and that, he can see others. Souls lit, sinking like he still does, falling into the netherworld. They plummet like stones, the waves and ripples thick and violent. Other times, they drift past him almost serenely. Then, something changes… a warm current eddies through the cool, a bright light growing in the dark. Was it falling, or was he floating?

    Oh, but he wants to know where it’s going. He yearns toward that vivid burst of light, craving its warmth, with everything that remains of Severus Snape. He sees her, a folded form of a familiar woman. Her curls brush against his nose, tingling against his lips. As she stills, he pulls away to look at her.

    It's Hermione Granger, her hair a halo around her sleeping face.

    Language:
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