Snapping, snarling, growling.
The sounds followed his every step; they followed him into his dreams.
Sharp teeth, long claws, but it was the eyes-
The eyes that he could see every time he closed his eyes; every time he fell asleep.
"Well, isn't this a surprising twist." He looked down his nose at the broken shell of a boy standing in front of him. "You want my forgiveness now," he sneered.
"Look, Sni- Snape. I'm sorry! I don't know what more I can say." Black was still staring at his feet; apparently he didn't have enough of that Gryffindor Courage to look Severus in the eye.
"There's nothing that you can say. You don't care what happens to me. You're only sorry that none of your friends are speaking to you anymore."
"That's not true! I-" he paused, eyes darting around the empty corridor; looking anywhere but Severus. "I don't like you, but I don't want you dead."
Severus wondered, years later, if that were still true.
He'd been a trusted member of the Death Eaters; he'd known all about the plan to go after the Potters, and yet he hadn't sent for help until it was too late. But there was more to it than that.
Severus had known Sirius was innocent.