Disclaimer: I don't own the characters involved. I wish I did; boy do I wish that I owned them. Lucky rich J. K. Rowling…
Author's Note: While going through some old scribbled notes, I found this story. As I recall, I wrote it the day after seeing Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. For the second time in a span of twenty four hours. Anyway, it's not too bad, so I figured I might as well put it up, since I did put the effort into it. It's more book-based than movie-based, you'll see. Quirrell's point of view. If there are similar fics to this one already here, it's not intentional. I rarely peruse the Harry Potter section.
Don't Leave Me Alone
Master, how could you leave me? I was faithful to you. I did all you asked of me when your most loyal followers pretended you no longer exist. I'm alone without you… lost without you…
Don't leave me alone.
Without you, I'm nothing. I'm wasting away, the burns on my hand and face are getting worse instead of better. The boils ache, but they hurt less than the loss I feel at your abandonment.
I had had the boy! With your strength added to my own, I could have brought down Potter! But you left me. When Dumbledore came, you departed from me and left me to Dumbledore. And to death…
I'm not going to Azkaban. Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey both agreed, when they thought I was unconscious, that my chance of living without you was slim.
But still I linger. The unicorn blood I drank for you is keeping me alive, and I'm trapped in a horrible half life of unending pain. The sympathy on Dumbledore's face only makes me feel worse. He knows I'm suffering, and he pities me. He pities me! Even after what I did for you…
Perhaps Dumbledore would have been the better master, after all.
But I had made my choice. The rewards you promised me were too tempting. And the task you set for me had seemed so simple. Retrieving the stone from a school where I taught – and even helped set up the protections – was not supposed to be impossible, especially not with you within me.
And I had thought the task would be simpler still when I realized one of your Death Eaters was at Hogwarts as well. I sensed his presence right away – the Dark Mark he took so much care to hide was plain to me. I didn't dare approach Snape directly, fearing someone would see us together and suspect we were up to something.
I knew he knew I was one of yours; when we met, he grabbed his left arm as if the mark burned him, and those deep black eyes had widened in understanding – and another emotion I hadn't read clearly. He said nothing, and I mistook his silence as approval.
If only you had seen him on Halloween. If only you hadn't been so weak that you were nearly gone from me. You would have seen his foul betrayal as he came out of that dog's chamber, blood dripping from his leg, and his eyes burning with hatred when he spied me.
He isn't with you, Master. He's against you. Unlike the pathetic fools who pretend to be reformed, Snape truly stands against you. But you never saw that… I never had the chance to warn you…
He is perhaps the only one who doesn't pity me. He's come in to check on me several times, as if to reassure himself you are truly gone from me. He needn't bother. I'm no longer of any use to you, which is why you discarded me, isn't it? You left me to die, Master…
But why can't I hate you for it? Because I realize that if you break a tool, you discard it. and I am as broken as they come. But why does it have to hurt so much? Oh, Master… If only you had killed me before you left me…
There is a soft sound in the hall, but my bandage-swathed body is too weak to look. A black shape detaches itself from the shadows, and I feel a familiar sensation as it nears. Is that you, Master? Have you returned?
"Quirrell," a soft, deadly voice whispers. Not my Master, then, but his betrayer.
Snape steps into my line of sight, his dark eyes boring into mine. "I know you can hear me," he continues. He holds a goblet, which he sets on the table beside me.
"S-S-Severus," I manage, the stutter very real this time.
Snape's eyes narrow. "You chose the wrong side. I should let you suffer for as long as that unicorn blood stays in your system." A sickly grin crosses his sallow features. "That could be years," he breathes. "Was it worth it, Quirrell?"
I will not speak against you, Master. I will not abandon you, as this traitor has…
As you abandoned me…
Snape scowls at my silence. "You're dying," he says. "Do you think Voldemort cares?"
That's Lord Voldemort, I think. But at least he shows his respect to you, Master, by speaking your name.
"I have this for you," Snape continues coolly, picking up the goblet. "It will flush the unicorn blood from your system and act as a poison. I'm offering you death."
Compassion isn't something I would have expected from Snape… No wonder he was a failure as a Death Eater.
"Dumbledore will do everything he can to keep you alive and turn you against Voldemort. I'm offering you another option. Dumbledore doesn't understand the loyalty Voldemort's followers have for him." Snape wouldn't meet my eyes. Does he still feel it, Master? Does the power you command still call to him, still haunt him? "What do you choose?"
There is no choice, really. I will never betray you, Master.
With bandaged, trembling hands, I reach for the goblet. An unreadable look crosses Snape's face as he helps hold the goblet steady to my lips.
The poison fills my body, spreading through my veins like wildfire. Snape removes the goblet, then turns and strides away, vanishing into the shadows.
Master, I haven't told them anything about you. I have remained dutiful to you until the end. I feel myself dying, still alone. And as the cold numbness creeps up my body, I image I see you looking down upon me, your expression showing neither disappointment nor the much sought after approval. And before I can determine whether I have done well or failed you, my vision fades, and you are no longer in my sight.
Master… don't leave me alone…
The End