snape’s morning coffee

"He lurched to his feet and over to Snape as quickly as he could, feeling for a pulse with shaking hands.

There was no pulse. Snape’s lips were tinged with blue. He was dead.

It was his nightmare all over again, only it was ten times worse. He shook his head, letting out another sob, and clutched at the man’s tattered shirt. The sparks gathered to him once more. They pulsed, and Harry wasn’t sure he could make them stop whatever they wanted to do next, even if the force of the magic killed himself and everyone in that clearing. He lowered his head to Snape’s chest. He should probably be trying to get away. He might actually be powerful enough to do so. But he couldn’t do anything for the paralyzing grief in his heart.

“The potion!” he heard faintly through his cries. “The potion, now, you fools!”

He opened his eyes, taking what he was sure would be his last look at Snape. He smoothed down the man’s greasy hair, forgetting why he’d ever been repulsed by it. He’d never call him a greasy git again as long as he lived, not if Snape would just open his eyes…"

- Extract from "O Mine Enemy", Chapter 45 by KirbyLane on AO3.