A Death Eater meeting is going completely wrong. Dumbledore is very worried and fears for Snape's safety.


The ground was wet and muddy from the rain. A strong wind created the illusion that the raindrops were big and falling quickly. A few birds were flying away, desperately trying to find a hiding spot.

A man clad entirely in black walked briskly towards Hogwart's Gates. His wand was drawn, ready to react when needed.

He let his wand touch the gate - it opened soundlessly and he slipped through it. He looked back, for a second, at the castle before narrowing his eyes and turning his head away. He quickly dried his face with his right sleeve and put his mask on.

A second later, a pain shot through his left arm.

He's impatient, angry and…

He closed his eyes for a second.

He knows…

The man put his wand away and Apparated to the designated meeting place.


The raindrops clattered noisily on the window, where a tall, old man stood. It was very dark outside, since the clouds were blocking out the full moon. He looked, with unfocused eyes, outside for several minutes, before turning away with a loud sigh. He walked to his desk where dozens of papers were littered. He closed his eyes for a second before he put them away with a swish of his wand.

He sat at his chair and stared at his empty desk. His eyes felt heavy, but he couldn't sleep right now.

Not when he was away. Not when he was in danger.

He signed heavily and continued looking at the wooden desk.


He half-walked and half-limped away. Blood dripped onto his already soaked cloak. He wiped his sweated brown with his left hand and saw some blood on it. He examined it.

The pain was coursing through his body. He tasted blood in his mouth and struggled to not cry out. In the distance, he heard someone talking, but the words didn't reach his ears.

He was jerked away from the memory when he lost his balance. He quickly put his left hand before him to cushion the fall, but it was too bruised and damaged to stop it. He fell with a loud thud on the ground and he couldn't stop himself from cursing.

He didn't move himself; his mind was too tired, his body was too damaged, and blood was soaking everything around him. He closed his eyes with a shaky breath. He coughed a little while grimacing.

The spell was broken and Snape released his breath. His arms and legs were still shaking from the pain.

"Still not giving in, Severus?" A voice asked.

He felt a cold, bony hand at his cheek. He struggled to move away, but the hand grasped his chin, refusing to let him turn away.

The wounded man hacked soundly. He tasted blood and opened his eyes a little. He turned his body while grimacing and grunting heavily. He felt the raindrops on his body and face and felt strangely at ease. He sighed a little despite the vast amount of pain his body and mind were radiating. He had a few moments of calm before the memory returned.

"Such a loyal creature, are you not?" His thumb circled his dry mouth.

"What did he do to earn such an allegiance?" His hand moved to his hair and he run his fingers through the black strands.


The grandfather clock clicked two times, signalling that it was two in the morning. The sounds woke him from his deep reverie. It had been four hours now since he left, and he had yet to come back. The meetings were never long, two hours at most. They would get certain signs if the gathering would not be pleasant: a mission gone wrong or a burning Dark Mark. Today, when he left, he didn't remark any changes. He even said that he was quite happy in the last meeting. Something unexpected could have happened, but five hours was still too long.

Something must have happened.

He stood up and paced his room, trying to quiet his mind and calm his body.


He had known that something was wrong the moment he had arrived. Not one Death Eater was present. His voice and demeanour were two other warnings that this summons was not a common meeting: he was speaking in a strange tone and his behaviour was almost... predatory. The alarm bells should have sounded in his mind at that moment. But he was very distracted and didn't notice it until it was too late.

"It is a shame to lose such talent." He pointed his wand at his right shoulder. He heard a loud crack and suddenly agonising pain washed across his whole body. He took hold of his hand and toyed with his index finger, bending and stretching it a few times.

"You are impossible to replace." He pointed his wand to the pale finger and broke it with a small swish.

A raindrop hit his eye and he closed it quickly. His last meeting were floating in segments in his mind, but the images weren't making any sense. It was like someone had torn the memory apart and given it back to him in a random order. The haphazard sequences were not helping him.

He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to relive the horrors: the fear, the revulsion, the hidden hatred and loathing...

He wanted to forget everything: the intolerable pain, his past and present mistakes, his hideous past...

His appalling existence.


The wards of Hogwarts were untouched for nearly six hours now. He looked, once again, at the window. The sky was very dark now and the water was pouring down in vast amounts. This storm was uncommon. It only appeared once or twice a year. He was guarded in the safety of his quarters, but he was not safe. He was probably out there, somewhere unknown.

All kinds of scenarios ran through his mind; each more unpleasant and frightening than the next: his dear friend, wet to the skin, injured gravely, with not enough strength to walk away. He could be in agonizing pain. He could be unconscious. He could be struggling to breath right now. He could be too injured. He could be bleeding to death.

He could be dead right now.

He quickly turned around and marched away from the window. His leg bumped against his desk and he stopped moving. He gazed with widened eyes at the wood.

Is there nothing he could do? Is there not one thing he can do?

Severus...


The numerous raindrops were soaking his already drenched robes and skin. His closed eyes intensified the prickling sensations of the water falling upon him.

It was like thousands of little knives were piercing through him. The pain was so intense, that he couldn't feel some of it any more. His nervous system was shutting itself off as a last resort.

"I will really miss you." He put his hand on his neck and, from there, travelled to his jaw. He removed his hand and looked at the blood-stained fingers. He wiped it away and turned his gaze to his onyx eyes.

"You are lucky, do you know that?" He waited a few seconds but the other didn't respond. He closed the distance between them.

"I am in a... pleasant mood today." He traced his lips with his right hand and smirked a little.

"Do you know why?" Silence. His hand moved to his bloodied hair and caught a few locks.

"Because I finally know who you... truly are." He pulled his hair violently and brought his face close to his own.

The feeling of his legs were completely numbed by pain and coldness. His backside was half submerged by the rain. His right shoulder was broken and useless. His whole body felt cold, too cold. All processes in his mind were slowing down to preserve some energy.


He heard a noise and looked up. Fawkes has awoken and was looking at him. He flew through the room and stopped on his desk. He raised his head to him and sad, black eyes looked up at blue orbs. He moved his hand to touch his head, but he shook it gently away. The bird took a few steps towards him and bowed his head. A few tears appeared and some of them splashed on the desk. He brought his hand under his head and a lone tear fell on his little finger. He stared at the pink and swallowed heavily.

This... this can't be...

His blue eyes watered.

No...

He bowed his head. Fawkes flew to his master and rested himself on his left shoulder. A tear left his cheek and fell atop the phoenix' tear. Fawkes let out a sad warble.

Dumbledore fell to his knees and brought his hands to his face while sobbing heavily. The phoenix left his shoulder.

My dear Severus.


His five senses were leaving him. He had already lost his touch. His nose was flooded with water, so he couldn't smell any more. His mouth was too bruised. Every flavour has lost its colour. All he could taste was his blood, his dirtied and stained blood.

He closed his eyes and removed his sight.

Blackness was coming closer from every direction. But, there, amidst the darkness, was a small bright spot. It came closer and closer until he was sure he could see, smell, touch and taste it.

"My dear Severus." It was spoken very clearly. His mind didn't recognize it. But, somewhere, deep inside him, he knew the owner of that voice.

Albus...

A small tear rolled down his bruised face and touched the tiny spot.


This story was a little... difficult for me to write... so... I really want to know your opinion.

And, I want to thank my beta for her wonderful assistance!