497. Snape didn't really die. He was unconcious, yes, but not dead. After Harry left he managed to fix his wound with a non-verbal incantation and without his wand. He watched the Battle from the Shrieking Shack, and after hearing the cheers that could only mean one thing (Voldemort's death), he stopped and thought about his options, when he noticed a glinting piece of gold on the floor. A spare Time-Turner, dusty and battered, had been left here to rot along with the house. Snape wasn't a wiz at Divination, but he couldn't help but hear the past calling him. He gave it a mighty one-hundred and fifty-nine turns, and landed in a park in Cokeworth, not far from his eleven-year old self. He crept up to him, and frightened though young Snape looked, he listened to his adult self. "Listen to me," Snape hissed, his onyx eyes fixing on the prepubescent Lily for the first time in years. "do not mess this up. Clear?" Young Snape bit his lip and nodded rather anxiously. Snape watched in awe as Lily did not turn and flinch away, but made easy conversation with Lily. It seemed that little Snape had taken these words to heart. Old Snape settled down in Spinner's End once more, checking up on his younger self, hissing advice in his ear, forewarning him of the dangers ahead. Snape lived well into his seventies, and died peacefully on May 2 1998.