Author's Notes:

This chapter exists only because of the terrible news of Alan Rickman's passing away, today, Thursday January 14, 2016.

This story was not about him, but of his (perhaps) most famous role, and I can honor him through this story as well as the words below:

Alan Rickman was the definition of Snape to me. I was always on team Lord of the Rings with my friends at school, one of two among our group who held it above Harry Potter. In my senior year, not very long before I began writing this fan fiction, I decided to give Harry Potter a try. Couldn't be that bad, could it? Heh heh heh...J.K. Rowling's work was tremendous and her style instantly struck me. I was interested, more than I cared to admit, but I was struck indeed. It was not a new experience to me, I suppose I should have expected it. In freshman year I really got into comic books. Batman more than anything took me away on a tremendous adventure. In Sophomore and Junior Years, My Little Pony became my main fan focus, and it was during that time that I joined Fimfiction. But Senior year, that was the year of Harry Potter for me....or more accurately, the year of Severus Snape. I read the books (that I had managed to acquire), got all the movies, and even began this fic. All of it for Snape.

Who better to take as the focus and cross over than Snape? Before seeing the movies, it was clear to me that Snape was my favorite. I don't tend to sympathize as much with the protagonist as I do side or villainous characters. Snape was definitely in the sidelines through the story, and quite the villain....just not an evil villain. Alan Rickman's brilliance was and is imitated, but never replicated. His version of Snape wasn't very far off from the Snape I imagined in the books, but Rickman's performance was so amazing that I can no longer distinguish between the original Snape in my head and his version. He truly made those movies special. I'm not going to take shots at the way Voldemort or Bellatrix or anyone else was portrayed, but Rickman's excellence had such little competition, the only notable examples I can muster are Michael Gambon's Dumbledore and Gary Oldman's Sirius Black. That isn't to say they were the only good actors in the movies, far from it, but none, not even those two, could compare with Alan Rickman's performance. Not in my eyes.

Some may know him best as Hans Gruber from Die Hard, others as the Sheriff of Nottingham, Rasputin, or Absalom the Caterpillar, among so many other tremendous roles. He will always be most remembered as Severus Snape to me, not only for the spectacle of his performance but because that performance hit so close to home with who and what Snape was. I am very much a Snape, and Alan Rickman made me realize what a deep meaning that has. I sometimes wish I were more of a Dumbledore, but Alan Rickman always manages to make me smile inside, because he was such a great Snape.

The bottom line is this: Alan Rickman was an actor, a humanitarian, and a very good role model. I love Alan Rickman. I may not agree with all of the things he stood for and all he did, but I will always respect his acting ability, and more than anything, his amazing work under J.K. Rowling's imagination as the greatest wizard of all time (again, in my eyes)

My apologies if this is not as thought out as it deserves to be, but I find a great deal of importance in getting this new and final chapter published on the very day Mr. Rickman was taken from this world.

Raise your wands, friends, we've lost a good wizard today. And a great man.

R.I.P. Alan Rickman 1946-2016

"Excuse me, Headmaster!," one of the young hooligans who called himself a wizard sneered as he ran down the hall behind his pack of friends.

The old man barely had time to clear himself out of the way as the young Gryffindor barged through the hall and vanished not two seconds later. A detention would surely be waiting on his bed tonight. The Headmaster himself would write it. He was utterly disappointed in the last few years' students. This graduating class was by and far the worst though.

As he hobbled past another hallway and maneuvered onto a staircase as it began to move, he realized that such a sad fact was a poor reflection on himself. He had been charged with making the next generation strong, had he not? Was it not his responsibility to make these young wizards and witches valuable to their world? Another sad facet of his life, one more thing that went awry like all the others. Dumbledore never had this problem. Dumbledore had a much simpler time with it though.

Professor Lovegood saluted the old man as he exited the staircase, took two right turns back to back through the halls, and spoke the password that led to the Headmaster's office, "Aconite."

Up the stairs he went, free at last from the young ones cluttering his school grounds all the time. It was a short and sweet respite.

"Good evening, Professor!"

Snape rolled his eyes and moved his wrinkling hand through his silver hair, shooing away Draco Malfoy from his chair. The former student moved with a hearty laugh, and bit into the apple he had in his right hand.

"To what do I owe this immense pleasure, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Harry...." Suddenly the blonde haired man did not seem to be any kind of cheerful, "His mum...."

"I know."

"I didn't think it was possible. To lose his father just last year....and now..."

"That will do, rest assured....I will be attending the funeral."

"Well...Harry and I never were too fond of you....but you were close friends with his mother. I know that. Harry would come himself, but, err, he's tied down out of the country at the moment. He gave me a list before he left though. He wanted to personally invited you. That's why I'm here."

"Thank you. If that is all, please leave."

"Actually, that isn't all."

Snape had turned in the chair, looking back into the many portraits on the wall behind him whilst Malfoy spoke to the backside of the chair.

"Harry's mother, she wrote a few letters...on her deathbed. This one's yours."

He flung the message in the envelope over the chair with his wand, and Snape snatched it from the air at once, but remained hidden behind the grand seat.

"Thank you..." He at last replied.

"I know," Draco said, reading the mood without effort, "I'll leave in a second it's just....I can't quite explain it. The bond between you and Mrs. Potter, it's...remarkable."

"To the point, please."

"Professor...."

"Headmaster!"

"Oh forget it, you dreadful old man.......how could anyone grow to like you?"

Malfoy's disappearance via apparition was sudden, but took entirely too long to occur.

Snape guarded the letter by his chest for a while, but soon found himself eager to open it, devour the contents. His heart was beating like the wings on a quidditch snitch. Was this a last note of love? A scornful final curse of the fallout they had ten years back? Perhaps even something beyond his imagination. He had been chasing Lily's affection for almost ninety years, counting his time in this world as well as the previous two. Still he could not fathom her complexity and beauty in its entirety.

The funeral was tomorrow night. Harry, Draco, Ron and Hermione, all the young ones from his earlier years teaching, or his final ones if one looked in the right lifetime, would no doubt be in attendance. Perhaps even old Hagrid could muster himself up to attend. In fact, he wouldn't miss this funeral for the world, he was sure to come. Remus and Sirius, having outlived both James and Lily were likely leading the services. Peter Pettigrew hadn't been seen in years....but he may yet be alive. Would this be his resurgence occasion?

Did any of it matter? Weren't these all just figments? Wasn't Snape the willing sacrifice in a game of make-believe inside Lily's spirit? How could she die...again? How could things be so disastrous in life number three when he should have learned from the first two? How was it, that at this sad old age he was no closer to attaining the true affection of Lily than he had been at eleven? None of these wizards and witches were real, not as he knew reality as compared to the terrible fiction of this grandiose illusion. It was a dream inside a woman's yearning heart. If only he had been properly included.

Not to say that he wasn't. This was the life Lily wanted, but the one he wanted was so very from what happened. She and James grew old together and died not very far from each other. Harry had found a beautiful girl to marry himself, and all their three children were in Hogwarts or already graduated. Under Snape's watch, the keen eyes of a good friend. That was how it was supposed to go. Perhaps if he had not mettled, not tried to win her over again it would have been so. But no...he couldn't help it, could he? He broke a relationship he spent years amending, feeling the unforgiving curse of time ware down on him while his entire existence had yet to be fully justified. He was tired of proving himself. Tired of being the bad guy. Tired of making himself the bad guy. Tired of losing.

But of course he would attend. If Lily had left him again, he would remember her the same way he had in his first life, and then spend all the rest of this one finding her again. She was worth losing one hundred times to win just once. More than that even. One day he would become the man fit to be called her love. One day he would earn that crown. One day the name Albus S. would be Albus Severus instead of Albus Sirius. The name Lily Evans would evolve into Lily Snape. It must. It must. At some point in his wretched existence, something must once go right for him. Mustn't it?

Who was there to question besides himself? Always alone, always looking for the thing he most desired. It was status quo. It was normal in the lives of Severus Snape. Good God, why did he have to be Severus Snape?

The funeral service had ended an hour ago. Most of the attendants had gone to Diagon Alley to celebrate. There was no celebration tonight. There would be no celebration until Snape once again met Lily. Not until they once again locked eyes, face to face, would he allow himself the level of joy Harry Potter and all his many friends and family members were experiencing tonight. What could there possibly be to have fun with?

Snape was one of very few stragglers in the cemetery. He had avoided contact with almost everyone, especially Harry and Draco, and kept to the shadows almost the entire night. Only old Mr. and Mrs. Weasley still stood near the grave, readying themselves to part at last and leave for their home. By now even Remus was at the Alley.

The old Headmaster felt a disturbing numbness in his chest, and steadied himself on a nearby gravestone as the Weasley couple at last departed and apparated at the gates. Alone at last, Snape stumbled to the grave, eyes moist with many tears that were hidden behind the silver curtains of hair hung over his head. His knees hit the cold mud of the ground noisily, but nobody was about to hear him. He was free to confess his sorrows. He only hoped they were strong enough to carry themselves to wherever Lily was now. It was not this "paradise", and that was all that truly mattered at the moment.

"Lily....I have brought upon myself...a great shame. I have lived in the shadows of your affection towards other men almost my entire life. I have done many terrible, and perhaps a few good things. I have created spells, mentored great wizards, changed worlds. And it doesn't compare with my failure to treat you as you so deserved."

He let the tears fall and the numbness grow, unafraid to tear down that curtain that so many had told him to tear down long ago. Names like Dumbledore and Eileen Prince, even names he had all but forgotten like Twilight Sparkle or the long deceased Minerva Longbottom, who was but a child of twelve when she passed, came to mind. His three lives worth of experience had taught him only one thing in absolute certainty: the pain of unrequited love burned deeper after all this time than it did at its outbreak.

"I love you so very much. I have never not loved you. I count the day I first drove you away the absolute worst of my life. The day I failed to protect you the second. The day I let your son down and failed to protect him any longer the third. There is nothing I would not do to see you once again. There is nothing I would not give to meet you on a fair level and speak to you once more. Lily...."

The pain in his chest was unbearable, and for the first time in a very, very long time, Snape almost wished he were dead. Deader than he was at current time at least. This paradise was now a prison. Death could not come fast enough.

"Lily....Lily....Lily, dear Lily....."

Death could not claim him soon enough.

"...Lily."

Death could not fix things........but perhaps it would let him try again?

The Daily Prophet had a very unusual headline the next morning, and Harry could scarcely believe it as he read it. He wondered how Uncle Sirius would react. What about Draco? How did he feel? He couldn't imagine. It was so hard to believe he almost refused to accept it as truth. And how odd it was that another grand figure from his youth should so quickly vanish?

HOGWARTS HEADMASTER DEAD UNDER MYSTIFYING CIRCUMSTANCES

Hogwarts Headmaster Severus Snape was discovered dead at a friend's grave, the funeral for which he had attended the night before, according to initial reports. The discovery was made late last night by the groundskeeper, who was looking for anything left behind from the funeral service. The Headmaster, aged 69, was reportedly found hugging the gravestone of one Lily Potter. It is unknown when he died exactly. The cause is believed to be sudden and debilitating heart attack. He had no written will and if he made final requests they were not recorded. His body is currently in the Ministry Morgue, and anyone who was close to him is asked to come and speak with officials on his behalf regarding belongings, possible memorial and/or burial, etc.

The article went on, but Harry didn't bother reading the rest. It was so odd a sensation. One minute he was watching Snape at the funeral, observing the strange man he never much liked or cared for at school, who he always felt uncomfortable around, especially if his mother was there. The next the man was gone. He was always a sort of enigma to Harry, but his mother did care for him. More than he knew. She didn't know it, but Harry had seen the letter she wrote to Snape. He didn't blame her, nor did he hate him, really. He almost pitied the man. Snape, or perhaps Severus, must've been a cursed name. Maybe they both were. Life was funny that way. One could live it out in its entirety, maybe even two or three, and never catch a break. Life was peculiarly funny that way. Harry almost wished he could have one more to make up for the terrible one this last one must've been. But even wizards couldn't change death. The big question now was did he read the letter? Did he open it up, or keep it hidden from himself after the shame and anger of the big fight they had a decade ago? How did Snape react to being vulnerable? How would he have taken those words....those crucial first words?

"Severus...if you had asked me at a certain time in my life, I would have married you."