DISCLAIMER: Characters belong to J.K.Rowling

NOTE: My gloomy, dark, sad version of how Snape gave himself in to Dumbledore. Includes Veritaserum and Childhood Snape. It's actually quite interesting. Please read and review. By the way, it will be a chapter centered on Snape thoughts and then on Dumbledore's. Enjoy! -Thanks

Snape apparated before the looming dark castle. The night was old and the dying moon was casting it's wan pallor on every object, giving an edge of unreality and dreamlike quality to the Hogwarts grounds. It reflected on the lake as if it were a liquid white diamond of sparkling stars, the tree's bare limbs outstretched to the sky, swaying with the wind like underwater algae; the castle's towers and turrets like a forgotten crown left to rot.

The wind whipped his robes around him but his body was numb, a simple tingling coursed through his head and down his spine every few seconds. He registered dimly the iced frost falling from the sky, as if the heaven's had opened a window and were throwing little pieces of soft clouds to adorn the bare rock and dress the naked trees. His breath was shallow with a sort of nervous anticipation, his mind was reeling as though he were drunk. Swallowing the bile that threatened to rise from his mouth he took an uncertain step forward, his boots crunched in the frozen dirt, hardly audible above the frantique beating of his heart and pounding blood in his head.

His long pale fingers curled around the gate's bars and he rested there for a moment, his forehead pressed against the cold iron.

Doubt began surfacing in his mind, a vapor like substance to cloud his senses, persuading him to go back to that mindless state of hatred he had been for the last two years. For a moment his feet shuffled backwards as though attempting to run off of their own accord but guilt and reason shone in his mind once more like the light of a dim candle in the midst of a dense fog. He could not continue like that, knowing in the deepest part of his rotten heart that he was doing evil, murdering innocent people and helping to carry the world and humanity in a tray to Voldemort, as if he were carrying a bag of pure souls on his back and walking straight down cracked steps to hell, ready to hand it to the bloody claws of the devil.

The gates swung open to a simple touch and as he stepped inside he felt his resolution growing as his determination strengthen. He would prefer death than this cursed existence he lead- for the blindfold had been removed and he had seen the abyss around him, he had felt the pain upon discovering the jagged rocks he walked over, his ears had burst at the sound of the screams and shrieks that surrounded him. He had wavered if perhaps he should simply let himself fall over, hand himself to smirking Insanity, the key to his mind lost in the sea of madness and his soul's pieces swept away to burn. But reason had won the struggle and he had trudged forward and escaped the line of slaves before him to stray into a strange garden where green grass still shone and fragrant flowers overpowered his nose. He knew he was besmirching the haven, his blood staining the dewy grass blades, his presence a shadow of evil in the sunny paradise.

His sore feet walked him up the hill, and he fancied he could see the velvet rug that lead to Goodness' and Light's king, the throne on which Albus Dumbledore sat and beheld the world he seemed to hold in such high esteem. The doors to the castle were ajar, which made him frown and he wondered dimly if Dumbledore was already aware of his presence. He did not think the man a fool enough to leave the door open for any Death Eater to enter in that way. The whisper of his robes seemed to echo in the immense and seemingly roofless corridors, cankling in his ears as though he were wearing a robe of rusty chains instead of cloth.

The gargoyle stared at him haughtily and flexed it's stone claws. Severus glared at it tiredly and hoped he would not have to curse it to get to the Headmaster, he wished to cause not further harm. He did not wish any more in truth. He did not hope.

'Let me in bird, it is urgent business.'

'Password.'

The guardian responded coldly with an insolent eye. Snape took out his wand and pointed it at the statue.

'I do not have it. But you will let me pass.'

If the gargoyle had had eyebrows it would have raised them, instead he simply glared at the young man and flashed it's talons, casting the wand a wary glance. He heard his master's voice suddenly in his head and was ordered to let him in.

'Very well.'

Snape jerked his head in an impatient nod entered swiftly as the gargoyle parted to reveal a roving staircase. His eyesight dimmed suddenly as he stepped up and he panicked for a moment at the thought that he should not be able to transmit all the information he had to Dumbledore before he died. He blinked and found himself facing the wooden door.

His mind was blank, but his heart had slowed to a steady pace and he was resolute. He would not turn back. His hand descended on the doorknob and he pushed the door open.

He found Dumbledore seated in his desk, clothed in comfortable purple robes with shining moons and stars on top of a snowy white nightgown. Blue eyes inspected him calmly, fingers interlocked together in an easy position. Snape took another step forward until he was at level with the chairs in front of the Headmaster's desk, but he did not sit down.

'Headmaster Dumbledore.'

He whispered hoarsely, feeling his life was held between those old yet strong fingers, balancing on the tip; he wondered for a moment if he should fall onto the floor or be cupped between those wrinkled hands. He should fall, he knew it in his mind as hope was blown away.

'Severus Snape what brings you here at these late- or should I say early, hours?'

Dumbledore answered politely. Snape felt the urge to smash against the crystal window and disappear from the earth, erase all worries as his mind crushed against the stones below. The intense gaze of those shining blue sapphires left him more uneasy and grief-stricken than the Dark Lord's own glowing red. He shook his hands out of his robe's pockets in a convulsive movement and hands trembling even as his determination held firm, he leaned forward and stretching out his left arm pulled the cloth upwards to reveal his wax-like skin, dirtied by the grinning Dark Mark. The skull was burned black, the serpent protruding out of his mouth in such a gruesome image of a mocking tongue. It was truly the conquer of death, that the snake should wound it's coils around the symbol of the unliving.

He saw the old man back his head away for a moment, his face never revealing a second emotion but calm expectation. He leaned foward after a seconds and grabbed Snape's wrist forcefully as his nose nearly touched the cool skin. Snape stiffened as the fingers closed around him and he wondered if that would be the feeling as the dementors caught hold of his neck and lowered their cloaks to administer their fatal kiss.

'I am a servant of the Dark Lord.'

The young man said finally as the Headmaster relinquished his arm. He pulled it back regretfully, some how longing to have left it in his care, as he longed to tear that parchment where his past decisions and mistakes were inscribed and be able to start anew, though he could only expect for the whole parchment of his life to be burned and the ashes scattered, no memory retained of his worthless existence.

'Why have you come here Mr. Snape?'

He tried to read some emotion in the wrinkled face but none was visible. Swallowing tensely he took a small step forward.

'I have come to give myself in.'

'You should have gone to the Ministry.'

'You are the true leader of Light.'

Snape managed to choke out, he found it hard to breathe.

'I see. But it will amount to the same for I will simply call the Ministry for them to take you over.'

The Slytherin nodded, then shook his head, then nodded again. Yes, he knew he was bound for Azkaban-or perhaps even a Dementor's Kiss but he wanted to help before and the only person whom he knew would listen was Dumbledore.

'I wanted to give you some information before that, sir. You may find it useful.'

'Are you attempting to reduce your imprisonment, Mr. Snape?'

Severus gazed for a moment confounded, then he thought the penalty might indeed be lowered somewhat since he was volunteering information and collaborating. His lip curled in spite of himself and a smirk of disdain appeared in his face.

'I acknowledge myself completely guilty and plead for no mercy or pity, even should they choose the kiss. I shall not struggle.'

He watched Dumbledore inconspicuously from behind his curtain of greasy black hair and saw the bushy eyebrows had raised ever so slightly although the rest of his face remained impassive. His eyes strayed down to his beard, a silver white river of sparkling hair. He remembered suddenly how he had stared at that long flowing beard that night in his second year when the werewolf had nearly bitten him; how he had looked upon it as a mantel of justice, the blue eyes calm waters in which to finally swim at peace- but the waves had shook his boat and he had fallen in and as he tried to hold on to the mantel of justice it had turned out to be but old crisp hair which crumbled under his fingers.

'Indeed... How can I know you have not come to harm me in some way?'

'Here.'

Snape responded swiftly though somewhat irritably and extracting his wand from his pocket set it on Dumbledore's mahogany desk. The old man picked it up carefully and inspected it closely; it was a fair twelve inches long, of a dark reddish color, seemingly cherry wood. He nodded and motioned for Snape to take a seat while he pocketed the wand. Snape sat on the edge of a chair, uncomfortable under the Hogwart's headmaster unwavering gaze.

'How can I trust what you are going to tell me?'

'I have brought Veritaserum. It has been brewed by myself though if you do not trust it you may get it from your own stores.'

Severus reached inside his robes once more and took out a small vial filled with a clear, transparent liquid. He set it on the table where it stood, balancing silently on it's rounded bottom and charmed unbreakable. Dumbledore extended his hand and picked it up carefully, opened it cautiously and smelled it slowly and deliberately before taking a drop himself. Snape frowned slightly at the old man's naivety- if he had been attempting to poison him he would have already succeeded.

'Ask me a question Mr. Snape.'

The young man searched his mind for a moment before settling on a question which would both satisfy his curiosity and prove to Dumbledore the potion's veracity.

'Did you know of my arrival upon my reaching the gates?'

'Y-yes.'

Snape noted the struggle as the old man struggled to avoid answering or perhaps lie before the potion forced the answer from his lips.

'Why did you let me in?'

'Hogwarts will notify the Headmaster upon anyone's arrival, a warning if the person brings dark intentions and the decision rests on us as to whether deny their entrance or not. I was warned only of a nighttime visitor not an enemy.'

Snape averted his eyes and took a moment to regain his composure while staring at the elegant, sparkling white plume on the desk before returning Dumbledore's silent contemplation.

'Take the Veritaserum and I will question you.'

Dumbledore ordered finally after a few seconds, his eyes like silent judges, never leaving Snape's face. Snape lowered his eyes and reaching for the vial took three drops. The taste was bittersweet, like truth itself it was said. He decided to settle his eyes on the blank parchment which had suddenly appeared lying on the desk. He wondered if this would be the last taste on his tongue before the dementors sucked all memories and thoughts away and he no longer distinguished tastes, smells, sights or voices. Or perhaps this would be the last potion he would hold between his fingers, his last creation before he was locked in Azkaban. He found he did not care.

'State your name.'

'Severus Snape.'

'Age.'

'Twenty.'

'You are a Death Eater.'

'Yes.'

'Yet you are no longer loyal to Voldemort?'

Snape flinched at the sound of the name for which he held such loathing now though once he had honored it with reverence, and yet he found himself too cowardly to pronounce it. He noticed suddenly that the parchment was no longer blank but was adorned by elegant loopy writing, the quill was no longer in it's place and an old wrinkled hand rested while it waited for a response. Dumbledore was taking record of the interrogation. He would be a fool not to.

'No.'

'When did you join Him?'

'After graduation.'

'That very night?'

'Yes.'

'Could you tell me why?'

'I-I thought it w-was the opportunity to a-avenge myself.'

He replied haltingly, the words slipping from him before he had had time to ponder for a moment and formulate a good answer.

'Avenge yourself for what? And of whom?'

'Of everyone for having t-treated me how they had...-' Snape paused as he fought the Veritaserum and in one rapid and panicked movement had taken another drop of the potion.

'More than three drops is dangerous.'

'I don't want there to be any doubts of the truth of my words. Vengeance seemed within my reach. I wanted to humiliate instead of being humiliated, I wanted to cause pain instead of suffering it, I wanted to be respected, even if it was through fear.'

Some of the old hatred resurfaced as he spoke and his voice trembled with emotion- a mixture of suppressed anger and self-disgust. He had been so tired of everything. Of his life. Lost in a dark empty room when suddenly a door had appeared, open it seemed to everything he had wished for. But the door had been locked behind him as he stepped inside and only then had he seen it was the spiked gate of a cemetery and his new abode was a gloomy graveyard. At first he had consoled himself thinking that at least the moon illuminated the earth and the tombs and phantoms were there for company- better than being alone in that void darkness, caged between four rotting walls. But then the red cloud of blood had parted to reveal the shining white orb and it's pure light had destroyed the illusion. He had seen he was caged once more, the phantoms were but haunting, soul-less corpses and his reason had returned, his eyes opened as were his ears. He had tried to forget, continue as though he had never questioned the "cause" but he could not tie the blindfold around his eyes again, he could not quiet the ceaseless murming of his conscious. Reason shouted in his ears louder even than the shrieks and pleads of the victims.

'Why did you turn back?'

'We were ordered to break into a muggle house. We killed the adults, the little girl was crying in her closet. I opened the door and saw her there. Crouched and sobbing, hugging her teddy bear. Those eyes so empty of- fault. She did not even know who we were or what we stood for. She knew nothing. Her tears were a beg for mercy, so full of ignorance...'

'Innocence.'

Dumbledore interrupted suddenly. Snape looked up and stared at the Headmaster who had his quill poised for writing, but there was something in his eyes. He couldn't be sure what it was.

'Perhaps...' he acknowledged with a small shake of his head. 'I tried to bring up some reason to kill her and I thought suddenly that I had never had a teddy bear, loving parents who papered my room and bought me toys. But- that wasn't her fault, nor anyone's. Another Death Eater came up from behind and seeing me paralyzed murdered her with a simple spell. I stared at her corpse, her eyes were still glassy with tears but the whimpers had ceased. I don't know how long I stood there, until I no longer saw her young still warm body but a decaying skeleton. Snakes slithering between the bones, devouring the putrid flesh. I questioned what glory there was in conquering over the dead who could no longer defend themselves. What rightness and reason were behind murdering and not dueling in equality. I realized that both pure-bloods and half-bloods, even muggles have the same eyes. They differ only in their blood, and the difference is not even visible and need not be seen at all if it were no because we spilt it.
Since then I started thinking, my conscious was restless and I felt so empty and sick. I pondered what to do. I thought of death, but I could not bring myself to do it. Not out of cowardice or fear of death but because of guilt I suppose, because I felt the need to do something at least. Because I was not worthy of the repose that death represented.'

'And you decided to come to me.'

'Yes. You were the only one would listen and the information would be better in your hands than in those of the Ministry.'

Dumbledore was silent. After a few moments Snape raised his eyes and saw the old man was gazing at him calmly. He felt unnerved as though he were uncovered and his soul were suddenly naked of all the veils and walls he had built around it. Shame crept into his heart and he lowered his eyes once more.

'Tell me how many people you have murdered.'

'Seven muggles outright, three wizards and through my poisons I do not know.'

'Tortured.'

'Five muggles and a wizard.'

'Can you give me names of more Death Eaters?'

'Yes. Lucius Malfoy- it was through him that I was introduced to the Dark Lord, Crabbe, Goyle, Karkaroff, Mcnair and the Lestranges. I do not know any others.'

Dumbledore asked a few more questions; about recruitment, attacks planned and other particulars to which Snape responded as he could. Slowly he felt the effects of the potion diminishing and the fogginess in his brain dispelling till he was in full control of his answers.

'What do you propose I do with you Severus?'

The young man raised an incredulous eyebrow.

'Whatever you see fit.'

'If I should call the Ministry you would be either given the Dementor's Kiss or locked up in Azkaban till the end of your days...'

'If that is the fate that awaits me.'

'I have another idea.'

Severus raised his head and stared at Dumbledore calmly, all nervousness seeming to have left him to be replaced by a cold indifference. After all, he had done what he had set out to do. It no longer mattered what happened to him.

'You wish to help the Light, do you not?'

'Yes.'

'If you are locked in Azkaban you will not be able to do it. I propose to you a different option, a punishment worse perhaps than prison.'

Snape did not answer, though he hesitated. Then nodded. He deserved whatever punishment was induced on him. Death was too merciful and he had not had mercy with those innocent people he had killed or tortured. He did not deserve any mercy either. And if it also gave him the opportunity to amend his evils somewhat then he was ready to take it. Whatever it may be.

'To be a spy.'

His colorless lips parted slightly in surprise and his eyes widened. A spy? A traitor? Well, he was already a traitor. A spy... He could understand why Dumbledore referred to it as a punishment worse than prison. To be obliged to remain in the Dark Lord's servitude, to continue to listen and participate ( in some measure) in the atrocities of the death eater activity and having to report them back, he knew the risk- if he was discovered he would have death, but not swift and pleasant as he desired.

'You trust me enough?'

He asked with a slight frown.

'After this interrogation I only need your back ground which I shall obtain by Legilimancy. If you do not concede then I am afraid I will be forced to call the Ministry.'

Snape grimaced in spite in himself and felt his breath growing short. His mind exposed. A vein ticked in his jaw at the very thought. He had been guarding his mind since had discovered Occlumency and began teaching it to himself. He had taken to hiding his own mind to himself...and now, he would be disposed of his only protection, laid bare as he had not let himself even to the Dark Lord.

'I-I...' He remembered those eyes full of tears, windows to an innocent soul. 'I will do it.'