This is my first attempt at one of these. We'll see how it goes.


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Snape waited quietly in the darkest corner of a hallway in St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. The moon cast its pale light through a window at the far end of the hall. Outside thick silence squelched the area as if the world was holding its breath. Troubled snores echoed through the corridor.

“Where are they?” Snape muttered to himself. “They should be here by now.” He hated waiting. It seemed like he spent his whole life waiting for fools around him. How did he let himself get into these situations? He tapped his foot impatiently and watched as a beetle made it’s way tenuously across the carpet in the light from the moon.

A scream shattered the silence. A door five doors down on the right was thrown open as a woman in a lacey nightgown bolted across the hall and rebounded off the wall opposite her door, collapsing into a heap onto the floor.

Snape stared with a look of disdain on his face. The woman lay moaning on the floor for a few moments, then she slowly rolled over and clawed at the wall in an effort to pull herself to her feet. Once on her feet again, she glanced around nervously, stumbled back across the hall, fumbled for the door handle, and swung the door shut in front of her just in time slam into it bodily. Reorienting herself, she pulled the door open and limped through.

“Filthy woman,” Snape sneered, “That’s the third time in thirty minutes.”

Quiet returned and the waiting continued. The minutes dragged by. A cramp began to develop in Snape’s lower back. His body seemed to be reminding him that youth had left him. He shifted his weight and glanced around the room. Had someone written on the wall next to him? He leaned in closer to examine what must have been the loopiest “G” he had ever seen in his life. Someone had indeed written on the wall—“Guilderoy Lockhart” was scrawled nearly forty times on the small piece of wall next to him.

I had forgotten that worm was staying here, thought Snape to himself. He despised him almost as much as he despised Potter. Both were always trying to draw as much attention as possible. He read the inscription under one of the signatures. “To my most devoted fan.” That fool! Served him right that he obliviated his own memory. It’s a wonder that they’ve gotten him to remember his own name, though I don’t expect I should be surprised…

POP! The sound came from behind the door right across from him. Snape slipped across the hallway and peered through the barely open door. Scorch marks dotted the floor in the room. Off to the right along the near wall a man squatted, holding a small pan in his right hand. Light and shadows danced across his face as he moved the pan slowly over a small fire. POP! Was that popcorn in the pan?! Snape regretted choosing this wing of the hospital.

He pulled the door open just a touch more and slipped his arm through the opening, pointing his wand at the squatting man. The man jumped and turned around.

“Stupefy!” Snape whispered. The man’s body was thrown in an arcing motion onto his bed. In another fluid motion, Snape directed his wand back at the fire, which made a brief hiss and then went out. It just wouldn’t do to have hospital staff disrupting his plan at this point. The man must have started the fire in muggle fashion, since these patients weren’t allowed to have wands. Pathetic! He eased back into the shadow across from the room.

“Ouch!” Snape jumped and whirled around to find himself face to face with a grinning man in lavender robes.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there. Are you here for my autograph?” Lockhart stepped out of the shadow. “Of course you are, but unfortunately my ink is out of pen.” He held out his ink-stained hand, in which was clutched the tattered remnants of an overused quill.

“Hey, do I know you?” Lockhart moved closer.

I don’t have time for this, Snape thought as he leveled his wand at his one-time colleague.

“Right, then. I can see you don’t have your fan book out, and I seem to have misplaced my pictures, so perhaps I’ll honor you today by signing your robes. If you’ll just hold out your arm—very good now…” His babble was cut short as a beak sprouted from his mouth. In short order, a peacock was strutting around where Lockhart had stood.

“Much better,” Snape whispered as he ushered the peacock into the room where the stunned man lay on his bed. He moved to exit the room once more but stopped when he heard footsteps running in his direction.

He peeked out the door just in time to see Harry Potter and his annoying little friend, Ron Weasley, burst into the corridor. Just a little longer now and this would all be over.

“Hurry, Ron!” Harry shouted, “We have to get to the last horcrux before Voldemort does!”

“But we don’t even know if the last horcrux is really here!” Ron protested.

“I told you that you didn’t have to come. Besides, this R.A.B. fellow was right about the other horcruxes.”

“But don’t you think this could be a…”

“Stupefy!” Ron fell to the floor and remained motionless as Lord Voldemort emerged at the end of the hallway. Very good, thought Snape, The Dark Lord believes the last horcrux has not been destroyed. Harry spun around and held out his wand.

Fools! They’re likely to get tied up in Priori Incantatum again.

Harry and Voldemort stood facing each other. Neither dared cast a spell because of the connection between the wands each held in his hands. Voldemort edged forward.

“Did you honestly believe I would allow you to destroy the final horcrux? I have worked years for this. Now my immortality is just one killing curse away. Do not think that you can defeat me. I am the most fearsome wizard alive, and it will ever be that way! That prophecy was all I needed in order to know how I could assure victory. ‘Neither can live while the other survives’, Potter. You will not survive this…”

Voldemort’s rant was interrupted by a scream. Suddenly the door next to him was thrown open and the woman in the lacey nightgown ran headlong into Voldemort sending both tumbling to the floor.

“My wand!” Voldemort was searching frantically on the floor. Harry looked like he was just about to execute a nonverbal spell. Voldemort jumped up off the floor as a brilliant orange light leaped from Harry’s wand and exploded onto the spot where Voldemort had been. The woman wandered dazedly back into her room. Where did Potter learn such a spell? Snape marveled.

A new arrogance had crept into Voldemort’s demeanor as he strode confidently forward. “Looks like your time is up, Potter. Priori Incantatum can’t stop me now that I have that woman’s wand.”

Snape was stunned. That woman works here?! Why did I choose this place?

“Avada…”

“Stop!” Snape’s voice echoed through the corridor as he stepped out of the doorway. “There has been a change of plans.”

Snape started towards them with his wand drawn.

“Crucio!” Pain seared into every nerve of Snape’s body as he arched backwards to the floor. His skin was on fire, his muscles felt as if they were tearing from his bones, and his bones felt like they were being ground to powder.

Neville, with his wand still pointing down at Snape, stepped over him while wrenching Snape’s wand from his tortured fingers.

The pain crashed through Snape’s body as the most perfect Cruciatus curse he had ever experienced continued on. Neville turned towards the two duelers who now stood watching in disbelief.

“Avada kedavra!” Green light launched from the end of Snape’s wand, which Neville had aimed at Voldemort. In a split second Neville defeated the greatest monster of modern times—Lord Voldemort fell to the floor.

“Oh, Neville! Thank goodness you were here…”

Neville turned, swinging Snape’s wand around towards Harry.

“Avada kedavra!” Harry didn’t even have time to register his surprise before he collapsed to the ground.

Snape’s shock overcame his agony. His jaw went slack and his world seemed to spin around him. Neville Longbottom? Neville Longbottom?! Snape groped in his mind for some explanation that would make the pieces of his world fit together in some way that would contain even an inkling of sense. How could this boy who could barely walk down the street without tripping over his own idiocy have turned my world upside down?

“Prophecy fulfilled,” Neville said coolly.

Snape didn’t even realize that the pain had stopped until he saw his own wand drop down beside him and he felt Neville’s shoe press down on his shoulder. He looked up to see Neville’s wand leveled squarely between Snape’s eyes.

“Obliviate!”


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