Severus Snape crouched over the white and gray slab of marble rock that stood for Albus Dumbledore's gravestone. A thin, almost paper white finger dug into the damp earth in front of him. The dirt clung to his yellowing fingernail and he inhaled. The smell of the summer thunderstorm still lingered in the cool, night air at the edge of the Forbidden Forest though the rain had passed a day ago. Severus could hear crickets chirping the temperature and various other creatures in the forest. Those that comprehended already knew of his involvement in their beloved headmaster's death.

Yet none came after him.

Severus had no question that something knew of his presence for the simple fact that he has not yet encountered anything. Yet they didn't attack. Were they waiting for a moment of weakness? Were they simply watching him? Or was it just his nerves getting him to after all?

"What am I doing?" he muttered to himself.

The marble stone looked back at him. It was perfect, he knew. White and bright, just like Albus himself. The swirling gray world of darkness and confusion was constantly struggling to bring down the light. Severus himself belonged to that darkness and confusion. There was no question about it. Though the late wizard hero had etched into his mind that the act was performed by his word, Severus knew better. Even if Albus had forbidden the younger man to kill him, Severus would have done it.

He was, after all, a proud Death Eater.

It was ludicrous to think that he would have the nobility or chivalry, or whatever it was that Albus so intently believed he possessed, to trade his own life for the old, trusting fool's. It was pathetic, almost. How much clearer could his own intentions have been? Severus almost snorted. He had made that blasted Unbreakable Vow and Albus knew about it. He had been giving the Malfoy child so much help that he could have accomplished the task years ago... Why was the old fool so blind? Was it the old age that got to him? Was it some Muggle disorder, Parkinson's Disease? Alzheimer's?

Faith?

Severus frowned and lifted his finger from the ground. Dirt in his fingernails, much like Albus was. By pretending to spy for the old man, he had inadvertently caused the deaths of many of his fellow Death Eaters. Not only that, but few of the Dark Lord's plans were ruined. The Dark Lord rarely even allowed him to duel out in the battlefield for fear of the truth leaking out. It had annoyed him to no end. Instead of helping the Dark Lord, he had to spend a majority of his time sitting around on his bum and listening to Albus's insane (and very irritating) speeches about the Light.

How could the old man think that Severus could actually spy on the Dark Lord? Fool an old trusting, albeit powerful, wizard? Feasible. Fool the world's most accomplished Legilimens? Impossible.

Yet when it came down to it, to those two words... It had surprised Severus when he had to force himself to utter those two words. Avada Kadavra. How hard was it? He cleaned his fingernails and let out an uncharacteristic sigh. Why had it taken that much self-control to kill the old Muggle-loving fool?

Severus was even more surprised when he heard a small branch crack. Quickly casting a Disillusionment spell on himself, he slid silently behind a tree. A second later, a young man appeared out of thin air. Severus's lips curled in a rueful sneer. How could he mistake the dark bird nest of hair and those emerald eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness? How could he mistake the person who would probably be his death? Potter. Of course it was Potter.

Then he found that he would have been disappointed if the spoiled brat hadn't shown up.

Severus wasn't sure why he stayed in the shadows as the brat knelt tenderly in front of the fool's grave, invisibility cloak next to him, blending in to the earth. He couldn't see Potter's expression as he was behind him, but the boy gave out a feeling of determination that he had never seen before. Or he never noticed it. Whatever it was, it didn't matter. But Severus did credit to that feeling the reason he didn't Avada Kadavra the brat to the depth of hell on the spot.

"Professor," Potter spoke, his voice void of childish whine, "it's been a few months since... well, you know..."

Severus almost laughed out loud. What a way to start a conversation... Gee, Professor, you've kicked the bucket for a while now...

"Well, I wanted to say I got the cup. Professor McGonagal gave me all the stuff you left me in your will and from the information there, I found it. I'm actually on my way to a lead on Ravenclaw's object and stopped to see you."

None of that made any sense to Severus, but he didn't particularly care. The brat probably didn't even know what he was talking about.

"And I want you to know," Potter took a small breath, "I've been thinking about this for a while, and it's probably what you would have wanted. Snape... um, Professor Snape, sir, I won't...well, not exactly won't..."

Potter took a bigger breath, "I'll try to not kill him. It's what you would have wanted, isn't it?"

Severus blinked. What? As he watched, Potter looked at the marble gravestone and seemed to wait for an answer. Of course, the stone didn't give one. Potter seemed to think otherwise and gave an almost satistfying nod. Severus slowly shook his head subconsciously. What did Potter think he was playing at? He scowled. He had wanted Potter's blood in almost a bloodlust when he heard that the brat had finished off the Dark Lord...

"Well. I hope you're well, wherever you are, Professor. Oh yeah, and I got myself a new wand, since my other one won't work properly with Voldemort."

Snape winced and gave a low hiss. The sound was drowned out in the chorus of crickets and other forest creature and Potter didn't hear.

As the boy drew himself up to leave, Severus took a hold of his own wand. When Potter disappeared under his cloak, Severus's hand loosened on the wand. He couldn't kill Potter. Not now, anyway. First off, the Dark Lord wanted Potter for himself. Then he would wonder where Severus had acquired the brat. And that would lead to questioning that Severus could not get out of unharmed.

And so he allowed the boy to leave. Walk out. Keep running strong in his journey to kill the Dark Lord. Severus's mind slapped itself for the absurdity of it all, but still. He allowed the boy to leave Albus's grave alive.

Once he was sure that Potter was out of range, he rid himself of the Disillusionment charm and hovered by Albus's grave again. The gravestone shone brightly in the silver moonlight.

"All right, old man. You win. I promise to not harm Potter if it's in my power!" Severus muttered angrily.

And he knew he would fore fill that promise. In a resigned sigh, he looked up at the sky. The stars twinkled at him peacefully. It was just like Albus... Severus growled and tore his eyes away and glared at the grave again. His eyes softened. A giant gust of wind headed his way, almost making him lose his balance and fall back. A few specks of dust flew into his eyes, making them water.

"Rest in peace, old man..."

A/N: So here's my Sev-thinks-about-Dumbledore fic. How was it? I hope you guys liked it! Just don't forget to review and tell me what you think, because you know, I'm not a mind reader.

Oh yes-

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me because I suck at writing.