Disclaimer:
The Harry Potter Universe was created by J. K. Rowling.
No monetary profit is being made from this writing
Summary: Severus Snape contemplates his actions and
what lies ahead.
Big spoilers for "Half Blood Prince."
Drama - PG
~~~~~~~~~~
As I lower myself into the
old bathtub, the small luxury which I had been craving, the warm water does
little to comfort me. I didn't expect
it to. I glance at the cobbled stone
walls and confide with them in silence.
Outside I hear the Dark Lord barking orders at his Death Eaters and I am
annoyed with the disruption of my silence, though it does not last long and the
voices die away.
I am on the run now. I can
never return to Hogwarts, that which has been my home for so long. Spinner's End, if you could call that rat
hole a home is probably swarming with Aurors by now. Will I ever find a place to call home again?
I have no home now and the one
and only person I could call a friend, the only one who ever trusted me, the
only one who gave me a chance is dead - at my hand. No one would believe the truth, least of all Potter. And what in the blazing hell would he know? Called me a coward. A coward!
The nerve of the brat. I doubt
his miniscule brain could grasp the enormity of what I had been asked to
do.
He told me it had to be
done. At first I refused,
blatantly. How in the name of Merlin
could he expect me to take the life of the one person I cared for? In the end he pleaded. It would have disgusted me if he had been
pleading for his life. It struck me
that he was pleading me to do what had to be done and I did it. It was the hardest thing I had ever done and
I hated myself for it. I only hope
Albus Dumbledore's death was not in vain.
And I sincerely hope Potter
appreciates what's been done for him.
Seeing the burning hatred in his eyes rivalled my own hatred of
myself. When the time comes, will he
have what it takes to defeat Voldemort, I wonder? From what I've seen, I very much doubt it. Looks like I'll have to save his arse - yet
again.
I have to lie low for now, there
are those even amongst the Death Eaters who do not trust me, and if I raised my
wand against Voldemort now it would be too soon. Only time will give the final answers.
I am not certain I will survive
the final battle, I'm not sure I want to.
Peace, internal or external is something that has always eluded me. Perhaps in death I will find it.
It is rather chilly when I step
out of the now lukewarm bath water and dry myself. These walls now being the
only ones I can confide in.
As for what lies in the coming
days ahead, it's in the hands of the Gods.
*