Summary: What a ridiculous way to die. If there is one thing about my predicament that is making it even more laughable, it is the fact that I am still alive.
It has been a year since the night that Severus Snape spent in the Shrieking Shack, awaiting death that would not come. A year that seemed long, passed quickly, yet should not have come to pass at all. One can come to terms with the idea of there being a due time for one's death. But what one does do when the predetermined, awaited and eagerly expected end fails to arrive?
Dear Mods, this fic has been previously deleted by mistake and is in the process of restoration. I have been granted permission by Deanine to submit two chapters at a time. Thank you!