The Mind of Severus Snape

A/N - Thank you for taking a look at this! If you enjoy it, hate it, or have a thought on it, please, leave a review or PM me. I have a full fic around this snippet already planned out. It'll be SS/HG, likely. If you'd be interested in that, let me know!

Additionally, this chapter is quite violent. If that sort of thing upsets you, consider yourself warned.

Disclaimer - All recognizable content in this is the property of JK Rowling.

On a bitterly cold November day, a man encased within a black robe made his way warily down a side street of Knocturn Ally. Walking briskly, he knew he was being followed – his keen instincts telling him that two others were walking, attempting to be subtle, and gaining on him. He never heard the spell hit him.

"Expelliarmus!"

Snape's wand flew behind from inside his frock coat, and he only managed to turn the corner before the stone of the building's corner was blasted out from a powerful stunning spell. He snarled as shrapnel buried itself in his pale face, colouring his white skin crimson.

He heard the footsteps long before they came around the corner, and he sprung into action.

A man and a woman came, both with wands drawn, and cool expressions, marking them as confidently skilled in their trade of hunting and assassination.

Stupid fools, Snape thought to himself, a smirk curling the corner of his thin lips, I still have my body if not my wand.

Lashing out like the coiled snake, he caught the closest foe, the female, in the throat, feeling the delicate tissues of her oesophagus and trachea collapse under his fist. He heard the gurgle of her pain issue from her surprised mouth before grabbing her head and neck, and thrusting her body into that of her companion.

Spinning away from the body of the woman, the man attempted to train his wand on Snape, flinging a silent spell at him, the red streak of light burning through the robe of potion's master, causing a hiss of pain to leave his thin lips. Leaping at the assailant, he caught the man's jaw with his elbow, and caught his wrist, wrenching his wand hand, bringing it up pointing under the chin of the man.

"Recucto."

Snape watched, almost as though in slow motion, as the man's head was enveloped in a flash of blue light and his eyes held a look of utter surprise. In the next moment, time seemingly returning to its normal, relentless, unmerciful flow. Viscera erupted outwards from the top of the man's skull, staining the snow white.

Snape turned, hearing the final, laboured breaths of the female who had attacked him, her blue eyes staring in horror at his gore stained face. He remained unmoving and quiet while he watched in quiet fascination as her lips began to turn a deathly shade of blue as her hands clutched pathetically at her ruined throat. Her body began convulsing, and he could see her eyes pleading with him to save her. He walked calmly over to the woman.

He was not a sadist, and he rarely enjoyed seeing another being in unnecessary pain. Placing his large hands on her head, one at her chin and the other on the back of her skull, he wrenched his arms, hearing the pop of her neck as it snapped. With the final twitches of her muscles, and the nauseous smell of human waste, she moved no more. Her bloodshot eyes unblinkingly staring at him. Unseeing, yet seemingly seeing through him. Snape shivered.

Death was never flattering. A person lost control of the bowels and bladder and almost always ended up soiling themselves. There was no dignity in death, only finality.

He brought his hand up to his arm where his adversary's curse grazed him. The robes had been burnt through and the skin beneath blistered painfully. Snape cursed quietly to himself.

One day soon, my luck, such as it is, will run out.

Rummaging through the pockets of the now-headless man, the potion's master retrieved his wand and, wrapping his robes tightly around him, apparated away.

Am I still a man? The robed being shook his head of the malign thoughts swirling around his damaged mind. He tasted the coppery tang of blood in his mouth, and spat onto the frosty stones the street was cobbled in.

Of course I am. I am Severus Snape, a teacher. I was a spy. I was a death eater.

I am a man. Still.

Right?

A/N - Thank you so much for reading. Please, leave a review below and tell me how you liked it. I will attempt to answer every review, even if the review says as little as "it sucked." If you enjoyed this, please let me know. If you didn't, still - let me know what you didn't like. I have fleshed out a full fic of this, but haven't written it. Let me know if you'd like that.