Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of it's characters they belong solely to J. K. Rowling an amazing writer. Truly brilliant. I only have the honor of playing with them for this story and hopefully others. Please read the real story of Harry Potter from J. K. Rowling's amazing books. For they are truly worth every read. I have read them so many times I have lost count.

Summery: This scene takes place at the end of Deathly Hollows and do contain spoilers for DH. This is Severus's survival. His recovery and the transformation that will change his life. It'll be a short fic. Maybe a couple chapters long. It was originally a one shot. But I think I'd like to expand on it.

CHAPTER ONE: Where It All Ended

Pain... Darkness... Silence...

That was his world. He could still remember the last thing his eyes had seen. Those green eyes from her son staring into his. Lily's eyes. His Lily. Now the boy knew everything. Was it over then? What he trapped in this body in constant limbo. Never to wake. Never to sleep. Never to end? Was he doomed to linger? Forever caught in-between? Was it always to be this way? Had he not suffered enough? Was it not finally over? All the questions swirled inside him. Reverberated.

Pain... Darkness... Silence...

Hours? Days? Weeks? Or has it been Months? or Years even? He doesn't know. Time isn't passing as it should. Nothing is happening around him. The air is too still. His body is nothing but pain. His world nothing but darkness. Everything is silence. Even silence is not quiet. Something oddly strange in that thought.

There was a time where silence was his haven. Where he found peace from the turmoil of his soul. From the constant pain and grief and sorrow that ate him alive. Now silence is a burden. A cold and empty shell that separates him from life. Denying him death.

Pain... Darkness... Silence...

No contact. There's no physical contact. He can feel something hard beneath him, yet slightly soft. Almost the perfect comfort beneath his floating form. His clothing a mixture of rough and soft material against achingly hot skin.

So he is not on the cold floor. He is in a bed. Or is it a tomb? Is he in a grave? A coffin? He should have made it clear he wished to be burnt. Then he wouldn't be trapped in this shell. He wouldn't be buried in darkness, silence and pain forever.

Pain... Darkness...

No wait there is light. A faintest trace of light. So it is only Pain and Silence that remain.

Pain... Silence... Light...

Like a graceful touch the light seems to be warming his skin. The pain is still unbearable. The sudden touch of the light like a warm embrace makes him wonder. Is he still alive? The poison. Surely he couldn't have survived. Nagini's venom is still in his veins. He can feel the blinding agony running through him. Like liquid fire, but he is breathing. He realizes suddenly. He is breathing.

The steady rise and fall of his chest. The ever present darkness gone. Light like shifting shadows illuminates the inside of his close eyelids. So he is not buried then. Not in a tomb. Not trapped. He is alive. Yet, he is still trapped. He still cannot speak. Maybe he never will again. His throat was viciously bitten. Scared. He can feel it every time he swallows involuntarily. The tightening of muscles. The throbbing intensifies. How is he still alive?

Pain... Silence...

No wait there is a sound. The soft pattering of raindrops as if far away. Against glass. Like a thunderous cloud of sound. Suddenly more rushes in. It's overwhelming. It's noise. He's not in darkness and he is not in silence. He is slowly coming back.

Pain... Light... Sound...

By the time he realizes he can hear the rain like giant thunderclap of sound against the glass. So loud it is deafeningly painful. He hears the sound of footsteps like menacing giants are walking towards him.

Boom... Boom... Boom...

The sound is painful to his ears. Making his body wince and twitch. He can move. Slowly his eyes open. The light of the candles mercilessly soft. Easing the pain of their piercing radiance on his eyes. His eyes feel gritty like grinding glass against the delicate orbs. He shivers painfully at the feel. His head is aching horribly. His whole body is in pain. His eyes are slowly adjusting.

A figure materializes from the booming footsteps. The noise is still too loud. He winces and tries to raise his hands to block his ears. All he can do is twitch and jerk painful on the bed. He is in a room he realizes. A cold and empty room. With white walls and a sterile smell. With something else underlaying it. Something older. Richer.

"You are awake at last Severus," a cold voice drawls. That voice is so familiar. So refined and known to the man he can instantly tell who the figure is. Though the voice holds sadness and a rough note to it's once silken tones. It has aged. He blinks trying to find the familiar face with his gaze which doesn't seem to focus. Everything is hazy.

"Ohhh Severus it is so good to see you awake!" Comes a too cheerful cry. He blinks again. Another voice he recognizes. It is still too loud. Her jerks at the rapid tempo of heals on stone. Trashing to try and get away from the noise. His breathing is catching quickly. His heart is thundering. His eyes are burning. The fire is rising in his chest. It burns so badly. He's chocking on a wordless cry.

"Easy Severus, you've been badly wounded. You are barely alive. You must rest, you must hold still," Another voice. A voice he knows so well. Recognizes from endless hours spent in her care throughout his life.

Another figure by his bed. One young. Two older. One plump female he knows well. One older man he calls friend. Perhaps his oldest friend besides Lily. One younger female a student he'd taught. A student he had berated to keep appearances, even when he wished otherwise. So smart and cunning. Young and far too willful. He just couldn't bring himself to dash her now. To silence her enthusiasm. Even as it grated on his nerves.

He tried to open his mouth, but couldn't force sounds to come. He had know this, he had wanted to speak, but he could not. Slowly the figures begin to blur back into focus. Slowly adjusting. Slowly defining. He hears a gasp from the youngest. He blinks. It is like another eyelid has pulled away. Making everything sharper. Clear again.

He can see the girl now. She is standing still with her hand pressed to her mouth. Her eyes comically wide. Her face a mask of fear and horror. Why is she looking so terrified? Lucius is staring at him in concern and curiosity. Just as he used to when he was a child. Poppy has schooled her features into that all too familiar mask of compassion that hides her feelings at the sight of her patients suffering.

"His eyes!" The girl all but cries. Severus has to wonder, what about his eyes that terrify her so. He can see perfectly fine. He just cannot speak.

"It must be a side affect of the venom. Whatever that treatment you have been giving him Lucius it has altered the venom in his veins. He's integrated with it. Some changes are natural when the body absorbs and integrates such a potent material," Poppy explains.

"It is thanks to Narcissa and Draco that I could brew the potion Poppy. It is by no means my own. If it wasn't for the girl working with my son in our library, we'd have never found the cure. He'd have been trapped in the suspension spell Hermione cast on him," Lucius drawls. There's a hesitancy in speaking Hermione's name. A hesitance that Severus catches. Lucius is not comfortable calling the young witch by her first name. The fact he is doing it at all speaks of the respect he holds for her. Something has changed.

"Severus, you won't be able to speak for weeks to come," Poppy says after catching his pleading look. She lays her hand gently on his shoulder. He flinches stiffening under the touch. "There are going to be other changes, things you won't completely understand. The Potion that has cured you of the venom has altered you. We couldn't purge the venom from you body Severus, but we could make it accept it. Integrated it. You might find these changes hard to cope with at first, but take things easy. You are lucky to be alive at all."

The normally stern witch was speaking gently to him. What other changes could be going on with him? That would prompt such a tone? He wondered. He felt oddly fearful. Had his eyes changed that much to terrify her into thinking worse was to come? What did his eyes look like now? Surely it couldn't be what he fear could it? The snake venom. In his veins. Pooling like fire in his blood. The pain was there still. He could feel it if he thought about it. Having lived in a world of pain for so long he was used to it. Scared of how easy it was to accept the pain and push past it.

He let his eyes close and slowly drifted off to sleep. This time the floating oblivion wasn't all consuming. It was a gentle lullaby lulling him to peaceful slumber. Restful and not oblivion. Not trapped in a semi-awake-semi-unconscious ever darkened soundless void. No this was a natural restful state he could cope with. He knew he would wake from this.