He felt the irrefutable sensation of his body being pulled, as though his navel were attached to a strong and completely invisible rope. Although his fathomless eyes could not draw the distinction between the light and darkness of where he was headed, Severus Snape was aware of his body being dragged through an empty abyss.

Despite the fact that Snape was not resisting the insistent tug of death, the invisible rope was causing him significant pain. He felt that his body was about to fall apart into a million pieces which would not be subject to gravity, but would float intangibly into the ether. Broken, useless, unimportant little pieces.

This, however, did not happen. Snape's body remained whole, if it could be called a body at all in this given state. Of course, his physical, tangible self was on the floor of the secret tunnel under the Whomping Willow. It was cold and lifeless, as one would expect a dead corpse to be, and the dead flesh was bereft of any colour or warmth.

Snape's awareness was vaguely drifting through and alternating between the swirling mists and nonsensical sounds of dreams and nightmares and the somewhat more realistic fogs and hazes of being in a state of deep fatigue. He could not comprehend anything beyond pain, could not understand the significance of him being dead. The sight of his dead body caused Snape neither panic nor a sense of peace.

He noticed fleetingly Potter's figure far below him, and tried to shut himself off to it. All he wanted to hold on to was the colour of her eyes. The shape, the life, but mostly the colour.

Impassively, Snape allowed himself to be lead along like a marionette by the rope, or the chain, or whatever it was that was fused to him. Gradually stronger and more substantial sensations awakened his soul. The environment around him felt cold. The empty space above him was becoming increasingly pale with light and gave off an eerie, malevolent beauty. Below him the air felt quite buoyant. Shadows were being cast around Snape, which was inexplicable, as there seemed to be no walls or other solid surfaces that would warrant the production of such shadows. As for Snape's shadow, it was present behind him when he looked around, but in front of him also. This was most unnatural, but in the Wizarding world one is always encouraged to expect the unexpected, as it is known that the Muggle laws of physics do not necessarily transcend those of magic.

There was a musty, dank smell to the air and Snape could make out the sound of water dripping in the distance.

Without warning, Snape was suddenly sliding down, down through the air, unsupported by anything solidly. For all he knew, he may not have even been moving at all. This was a place where illusions competed for attention with reality. He felt his left leg wander in one direction, but his right leg demurred and pulled in the opposite direction. At the same time, Snape's arms were rising above him, defying the direction of his legs. Snape's head was being compressed, yet his limbs were growing ever longer.

When he thought he could take it no longer, the irresistible forces working on him ceased completely. He was dumped and felt a solid surface beneath him for the first time since this journey. Snape was grateful almost to the point of tears for this solidity. The reality of the rocky floor beneath him excited and calmed him simultaneously; always juxtapositions and contradictions in this place.

Snape turned his head upwards and truly saw clearly. There were no walls around him, but the shadows flickered around as strongly as ever. Highlights of light were interspersed with the shadows. Jewel coloured, beautiful bursts of light, all dancing around joyously. The beauty of the lights was tempering the eeriness of the dim and dank environment.

Snape was yearning for something, anything, to touch, but could find nothing besides the substrate on which he was now firmly planted. There was movement in front of him, and Snape was made aware once again of the sound of water.

A figure moved just ahead, and emerged into the scene, drawing closer to Snape. Snape's black eyes widened when he saw who was in front of him. Picking himself up clumsily, Snape bent low and made a deep bow to Albus Dumbledore.