Author's note: I have written (Harry Potter) fanfiction before but with being at University and other commitments in my life it has been a long time since I have written any stories. And I missed it. I found the start of this one shot on my computer today and decided to finish it. I hope you like this short piece. Please give me advice on how to improve my writing since 1) I am obviously not the best writer in the world anyway, 2) it has been a long time since I wrote anything other than essays and stuff for University so I am majorly out of practice. Also, English is not my mother language (Dutch is) so correct me if I made any mistakes with that. Obviously I have taken some liberty with the material Rowling has given us by having Snape survive that battle. He is one of my favorite characters in the books and I have read so many wonderful fanfiction with him in the lead that I wanted to write a story about him.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize from the Harry Potter books.

Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts Severus contemplates the events that occurred in the years that had passed. The past is painful and the future unknown; he just wants to prolong this moment of freedom.

FREE

It was over.

Standing at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the lonely figure watched the joyous crowd dancing, singing and partying the night away. The darkness that had swallowed each and every one of them was lifted; this time for ever. Nobody could believe it, least of all him. No more spying, no more meetings with either the Dark or the Light, where the former always had the threat of him not surviving, and no more fear. Fear of death, of destruction, of pain; the world was safe again. Even though in his heart he wanted to be as carefree as all the celebrating people in the distance, he knew he would not be accepted. Hell, if he was as smart as he thought he was he should be traveling a long, long way from here. Nobody would believe a murderer, a Death Eater. He knew the part he had played in this whole mess, both good and bad, but anyone else would only see the darkness in him.

It was true that his years as a young adult had been drenched in Dark Arts and blackness. The abuse he had suffered as a child from his father had hardened him; isolated him. At school, the same school he could see lying in ruins behind the celebrations, he also had not fit in. Years of merciless teasing, bullying even, had driven him into the arms of dangerous people. They had welcomed him with all his knowledge of the Dark Arts and persuaded him to join their cause. For a minute, just before he had raised his arm to receive the Mark that one evening, he had hesitated. Was this really the path he wanted to take? His mind had answered his doubts, although later he suspected that the Dark Lord might have used his own form of persuasion. This was the only place he had ever fit in, the only place where he belonged. The marking had hurt; oh yes it had hurt like nothing ever had before. The doubts started to creep up on him occasionally, but he knew he had made his decision. Just like he knew that his decision was eternal: once in, you could never get out.

But he had gotten out, even though probably nobody else in the Wizarding world would see it like that. After the threat on his one and true – unrequited – love, there was only one person he could turn to. The old wizard had looked into his mind, and maybe even his soul, and had seen something in him. Something not dark, maybe even light. He had offered him the only way he could redeem himself: to become his spy. Being a spy was not as glamorous as told in children books. No, the months before the fall of the Dark Lord he had lived in constant fear. Every word he heard, whether it was within the Dark Lord's circles or from random people he passed in Diagon Alley, he had twisted and twisted in his mind. Was someone onto him? Did they know what he was doing? How long would he survive this ordeal? Would his death be quick and painless or long drawn and filled with his begging to end it and end the excruciating pain?

When the Dark Lord had fallen at the hand of a mere babe he had not been in the same overjoyed state as many of his fellow wizards and witches had been. Not only had the one person he had wanted to protect died, he knew deep in his heart that things would not be over this easily. As a spy he had learned to be overly observant. If there was one thing the Dark Lord had feared, it was death. No one would have taken more precautions to try to prolong his life as long as possible as he would have. No, if there ever was a man more determined to defeat death, it would be Lord Voldemort.

Dumbledore had shared his thoughts and concerns and had asked him to not give up his cover entirely. He would have to stay on as Potions Master of Hogwarts – one of the conditions of him being accepted by the old wizard in the first place – and maintain loose relations with his former Death Eater-colleagues. For a few years he was able to lead a somewhat peaceful life. Everyday consisted of him teaching at the wizarding school, something that was neither pleasant nor as taxing as his role as a double spy. He had started to slowly let his guard down. The arrival of Harry Potter, the son of his love, caused him to remember his actions during his younger years and made him aware of the darker times that would undoubtedly arrive sooner rather than later. Potter was a magnet for trouble and Severus, with all his magical ability and intelligence had to fight hard to protect him, even if the sight of her eyes with his facial features managed to stab a knife in his heart every time he set eyes on the boy.

The night he first felt his Mark burn, even if it had only been shallow and nowhere near its usual strength, had him crying. He had not cried since that faithful night when Lily had died, but now he knew what his fate would be: he would no doubt be killed by the Dark Lord when he would unmask his betrayal. He trusted Dumbledore and his magical abilities with his entire being, but something about the Dark Lord instilled a fear in him so strong and overwhelming that he was surprised he had not died during one of the meetings just from the flows of fear threatening to overtake his body. He had allowed himself one night of letting his emotions overwhelm him, in the privacy of his quarters. Then he started to occlude every moment of every day, not giving away any of his feelings to anyone, not even Dumbledore.

The events of the Triward Tournament brought back the Dark Lord, even if he still had to gain more strength. Severus had to stop himself from trembling like a small child when he had laid eyes on the new form his master had taken on, though his twisted features had nothing to do with Severus' fear. Even after years of being – well, he was unsure what the Dark Lord had actually been during that period – incapacitated he was a sight to behold. The next two years had him attending as few meetings as possible; he was lucky that the Dark Lord accepted his excuse that he could not leave Hogwarts castle too often for fear of making Dumbledore suspicious. He tried to give just enough information to the Order for them to take action when needed but was always concerned with him being exposed as a double agent. Looking back he was unsure whether he could have done more for the Light side, had he not sometimes acted on his own behalf and circumvented some information to keep him outside of the Dark Lord's suspicions.

On one night he was awakened during the middle of the night by the Patronus of Dumbledore, urging him to hurry towards the Headmaster's office. The sight of Dumbledore slumped in his seat with his hand a blackened stump almost made him lose the dinner he had had hours earlier. Although later he had to admit that he was not sure whether it had been Dumbledore actually being unwell or his own selfish fears of what would happen to him if Dumbledore died that had caused these feelings. With quick wand work and brewing a number of potions to stop the curse from spreading he managed to save Dumbledore, but only for a short time. It had been difficult to tell the Headmaster that his time was limited, though the wise wizard had known before he had been told the news. Dumbledore never missed anything and succeeded to use every set-back for his own gains. This time included. His wish to save the soul of Draco Malfoy might be called noble, the only thing Severus felt was resentment, for which he was ashamed. He knew that he would never be exonerated for his sins, he had accepted that, but killing Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of all time, would bring his sins to a whole new level. It was something he could never recover from and something that would seal his fate without question: he would never survive this war. If the Dark Lord would not discover his betrayal then the Light side would kill him for murdering Dumbledore. And that brought him to another thing he was ashamed of: his desire to survive. If there was someone undeserving of survival he knew it was himself nonetheless the thought of dying frightened him so badly that he was desperate to live. It was an impossible wish, but he let himself hate Dumbledore for a few moments for completely crushing that wish.

The night in the Astronomy Tower was horrible, terrible and unforgettable. The moment he spoke the Killing Curse he felt himself change. He would no longer be selfish. He would not have the death of the only one he had confided in for so many lonely years, the one person that was intelligent enough to put all the players of this war in the right place, be in vain. He had to be ruthless in the times to come; making sure that the Dark Lord would trust him impeccably, while making sure that Potter succeeded in his mission to destroy the horcruxes. It would make him be the most hated person alive after the Dark Lord but he was willing to sacrifice himself if that meant it could atone for a few of his sins and the end of the reign of terror of the Dark Lord.

The months he was Headmaster of Hogwarts were not easy. Although he had never cared much for the opinion of others, such as his colleagues, the burning hatred he saw in McGonagall's eyes, a woman he deeply respected in spite of their many differences, caused him to hate himself. He made sure nobody ever saw him doubt, tremble or wince of the things that he needed to do, though he wanted to scream and cry like a baby sometimes. He was Severus Snape, formerly the formidable head of Slytherin house, now the formidable Headmaster of Hogwarts, and he would play out his role well all the way through the end. His own selfish fears had no place in this life, he had to be strong. It was not always easy to both help his students ánd keep his cover. He had never been overly concerned with the wellbeing of his students, yet the knowledge of them being tortured was another piece of darkness that threatened to engulf him. Sometimes he was ready to give up his place at the Dark Lord's side if that meant he could help the students in a particular situation but he knew that he had to think about the bigger picture.

It was almost a relief when Potter turned up at Hogwarts, for he now knew that his end was coming soon. He had decided early on that when the big battle came, for he and Dumbledore were sure that such an event would take place at one time, he would be ready. He would rather die while fighting for the Light side than survive while cowardly hiding somewhere. His plans almost failed when the Dark Lord decided to kill him in order to gain control of the Elder wand. The arrival of Potter both brought relief and heartache – the latter always happened when he saw those green eyes. For some reason he managed to survive the ordeal and give Potter the information on what had to be done for him to defeat the Dark Lord for once and for all. The events that transpired after that – even if they happened only a few hours ago – were a bit hazy. He was still unsteady from the attack of the Dark Lord's snake but he wanted to play his last part in this war. He had made his way to the battle grounds where he was immediately engaged in the fight. It was not easy to not only avoid spells and curses thrown by Order members, manage to not harm said Order members just deflect them ánd fight the Death Eaters. For some there was not enough time, but others had surprise flash on their faces before they were hit with his curses. It was the first time he could feel something of happiness in a long time. He had always prided himself on his magical knowledge and made sure that he was trained to the full of his abilities. It was both a matter of pride and a matter of survival: if there was someone always caught in the stream of fire it would be the double spy, never knowing which side would turn against him first. Dueling like this, when he did not even have to care about his own life was exhilarating for some reason. The look on Minerva McGonagall's face when he blasted the Death Eater that was throwing Killing Curse after Killing Curse her way of his feet, was one of – well, to be honest he was not quite sure what he saw when he looked at her. It was both surprise and betrayal. She clearly was unsure about how to feel about him: him saving her would not relieve him of his earlier sins. He would see more of these expressions during the hours to come. The fighting soon swallowed them up again and they both had no more time to dwell on what had just happened.

The moment when the Dark Lord was finally gone was marked with a new feeling of calm that Severus had never encountered before: not as a child when he had to be wary of his father all the time, not during his Hogwarts years when his bullies could turn on him any minutes, not during his adult life when had been a double spy and always had to be on his guard. His Mark felt wonderfully empty, he could see it but it did no longer burn or feel like an alien part of his body. Unsure of what would happen to him now he had started to move towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Should he run of just surrender himself?

Severes turned around, still hearing the festivities in the distance. He knew that he would not have much time. The Aurors would probably find him before the next evening, arresting him and taking him to Azkaban. He doubted that anyone could save him from his fate. His memories would not be worth much, seeing as he was a member of the Dark Lord's army. Many from the side of Light might have seen him fight alongside them, but they would never forgive him for his many sins; he had killed the most important member of the resistance. If he had even considered surviving the War, he would have taken precautions. Or would he? He knew he would never be able to make up for all the bad he had done. Maybe he wanted to be punished.

He sighed. Yes, he still needed to be punished, even after all these years. But he would grant himself one more moment of peace, of freedom. Closing his eyes, he breathed in deeply, emptying his mind of the lingering fear and unrivaled relief he felt after all the events that had occurred in the last few hours. He did not know what would happen to him. He might be awaiting a long trial or a sort one ending in the Kiss. He did not want to know. The only thing that was important was that this moment he was truly free.