Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not soe,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill mee;
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou'art slave to Fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie,' or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then they stroake; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more, Death thou shalt die.

“Death Be Not Proud” by John Donne

*****

Mighty and Dreadful, Thou Art Not So


It looked like a Howler.

Ron Weasley had seen his share of Howlers in his short life. He remembered well the one his mother had sent him following a certain incident with a flying Ford Anglia. And he recalled with a grimace the one or two (or twelve) from his fiancée. Mostly those were about wedding plans. He had expected Hermione to take care of everything (as she had always done before), but to his dismay, she had insisted that if he were “serious,” he would help.

There was no way to get around that.

But this was no Howler.

*****

When the raven carrying the black letter promptly popped out of existence, Harry Potter’s inner voice (which sounded an awful lot like Mad-Eye Moody) told him, Constant Vigilance.

Casting a series of detection spells, he could find nothing sinister about the missive, apart from it being completely black. His name didn’t even appear on the label, but the bird had been very persuasive – Harry had the peck marks to prove it – that the letter had been meant for him.

Opening it carefully as though it were a Weasleys’ Wizard Wheeze, Harry was much surprised to hear the Severus Snape’s voice.

*****

Minerva McGonagall had just sat down to tea after a trying day dealing with the Board of Governors. Even without Lucius Malfoy and his deep pockets, the witches and wizards who made up the Board were never conciliatory.

Were she pressed, she would have to admit that the one perk of working under Severus Snape’s regime as Headmaster had been the blissful lack of such mind-numbing meetings.

As though Summoned by her thoughts, a black raven flew through her window and dropped what looked suspiciously like a Howler in Minerva’s teacup.

The voice that flowed from it was like chocolate.

*****

Hermione Granger sifted through another stack of papers on her already overcrowded desk. It was a good thing she had put an Undetectable Extension Charm on her drawers, else she would be running to the Ministry records office thirty times a day.

A law clerk’s work was never done, especially not when Hermione Granger was said law clerk and the Magical Law Enforcement office was full of prejudicial pureblood lawyers. Had the war never happened? But Hermione was determined to change it from the inside out, just as soon as she found…

A black letter was waiting in her inbox.

*****

Kingsley Shacklebolt opened the message for a third time, the voice surprising him now as much as it had each time previously.

“Death be not proud, though some have called thee mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so,” spoke Severus Snape.

Kingsley shivered. What did it mean?

Pulling from his pocket a Galleon he would never spend, Kingsley tapped it with his wand to adjust the numbers. The coin grew hot, so he grabbed his cloak and left his office to Disapparate, making sure that he brought the letter.

It was time to reconvene the Order of the Phoenix.
*****

“What does it mean?” Ron asked, when they had all crowded into the Room of Requirement. It felt like old times. The excitement over a mystery was palpable.

“For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow, die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.”

Severus Snape’s voice held them all hypnotized, but Ron broke the mood. “What does that mean?”

“Shhh!” Hermione admonished just as Harry whispered, “He sounds like Voldemort.”

That silenced the Order members. The voice had not stopped reciting.

“And soonest our best men with thee do go, rest of their bones, and souls delivery.”

*****

Minerva McGonagall began to cry. The wizards shifted, suddenly very uncomfortable, and a small spark of hatred for Snape flared again like a Phoenix reborn.

“Thou'art slave to Fate, chance, kings, and desperate men, and dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,” the voice seemed to mock.

Minerva thought of Albus, but then that was not so uncommon. They all thought of those lost in the war. And Harry Potter thought of a platform very much like that of King’s Cross which, like Platform 9 ¾, was not visible unless you knew where to look.

Where to look for death.

*****

No one noticed Hermione Granger slip Death’s infamous Cloak of Invisibility from its customary spot next to Harry. They were all too engrossed in the last words of the black Howler that spoke so softly.

“One short sleep past, we wake eternally, and death shall be no more, Death thou shalt die.”

The letter refolded itself and came to rest innocuously on the floor. Harry retrieved his own copy, running his fingers over it almost reverently.

“What does it mean?” Ron asked again, his confusion reflected on the faces of everyone in the room.

Except Hermione, who was already gone.

*****

Hermione tapped the letter with her wand and murmured, “Portus.” As she had not given herself much time, she quickly pulled out her quill and wrote, Return to Sender.

She clutched the letter tightly, all thoughts of Ron Weasley and possible promotions forgotten. She could only think of the man she remembered so vaguely in her dreams, despite sitting in his classes for six years.

Her heart ached and she would have pressed a palm to her chest, but she could not let go of the letter. A familiar pull at her navel caused her heart to race even faster.

*****

Severus Snape was sitting at his desk as he always did at this time of day when a voice from behind startled him. Her voice was lower than he had remembered, matured. It was not whom he had expected and for that, he was glad. Her voice was much sweeter.

“And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,” said she.

“There is more than one way to vanquish death, Miss Granger. Step out from Potter’s Invisibility Cloak, won’t you?”

He saw her feet first, slender ankles and sensible shoes. But her legs were lovely, like finely spun silk.

*****

“You know that poem embraces Death?” she said to him once.

“I know.”

“Then why use it? You certainly aren’t dead.”

“Just a picture of it.”

“From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be, much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,” she quoted, smiling.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered back, kissing her softly when she complied. “Much pleasure, much more must flow.”

She sighed, embracing him. “Thou'art slave to Fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,” she teased.

“No, I was a slave to Fate, chance, kings, and desperate men. Now, I am a slave only to you.”

*****

A/N: Thanks for reading! The poem, as quoted at the top, is “Death Be Not Proud” by John Donne. I used that particular version, because I am a fan of the interpretation of the comma used in the last line, which is only relevant to this drabble cluster in that I’m saying Severus Snape’s “death” was only a pause, one beat of nothing before something else could begin. I also did not explain much – though there are hints – because death (and how to avoid it) should be a mystery. I changed the spelling within the text because it seemed slightly jarring to leave it as it was originally written. Also, the capitalization or lack thereof for “death” changes both within the poem and within the story on purpose. Finally, the muse for these drabbles was Alan Rickman, specifically a youtube video of him reading a poem called, “The Long War,” which can be found at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ngH8ZGOEoeM. Again, thanks!