Cold.

There wasn't much else to describe himself right now. Besides filthy, skinny, and dark, there wasn't much else to it.

Inside and out, he was cold. It was... well, he didn't know what day it was. However, the Minister had done an inspection of the prison the other day, and he had said that it was a few days after New Years.

For all he knew, it could be his birthday.

"Happy birthday to me," he whispered into the nothingness.

His words made a cloud in the air; it was so cold.

Inside and out, he was cold. The prison was on an island in the middle of the North Sea. It was January, and his robes were thin, torn, and baggy. They didn't keep him warm, and there wasn't even a blanket on his filthy cot. Moreover, the window in his cell (which had a lock and three bars) was drafty, and all the food they gave him was cold; it wasn't like he ate it anyway.

There wasn't even light to give a molecule of warmth, and it wasn't as though the Dementors helped at all.

Inside he thought terrible thoughts, but it didn't make much difference. That was all he had thought of when outside of Azkaban.

There was a scream and he sighed. There was a new prisoner - a woman - who screamed nearly every hour. He would try so hard to sleep, but Prisoner #210 would wake him up with her terrifying screams.

He was Severus Snape, High-Security Prisoner #109.

The traitor.

That's what everyone called him now. When some of the human guards came around, he heard them call people. Not by name, not by number, but by crime.

"Stop screaming, you damn murderer!"

"You better not be starving yourself, you thief!"

"I think we better put another dementor by you, traitor!"

On his way to trial, the crowds outside were screaming as he went inside. "Traitor!" they would shout. "He trusted you!"

Oh, damn Dumbledore! He caused this!

No, he thought to himself. You caused this. You chose this, now deal with it.

What else was there to do?

He leant against the ice cold, stone wall.

Perhaps the most painful moment, for him, was when he saw his ex-colleagues in the courtroom. He had brightened for just a moment. Were they here to help him? Did they know he was telling the truth?

But instead, they were there to shout more insults and add more pain. There to tell the court more about just how terrible Severus Snape was.

And Minerva was there; Minerva! His friend - well, not anymore.

Not even Potter would help him anymore. It was just him and his word.

The trial had been going on for a while. Once again, Severus restated his claim and the judge merely laughed.

"You have to believe me!" Severus had burst. The judge laughed even harder.

"Really? Why should we believe you?" the judge demanded. "Not only is your claim so RIDICULOUS that it's funny, but look at you. You lied to the Ministry, the staff at Hogwarts, and the entire Wizarding world about your true loyalty. You betrayed the man who bailed you out of prison the first time. Why should we believe you now? No, we don't. You're a traitor; we don't believe traitors."

Roars of laughter and shouts of curses filled the room.

He had to admit, his claim did sound stupid if he heard it through unknowing ears.

"Dumbledore told me to kill him," Severus tried to explain. "He told me to do it to spare Draco Malfoy and to get me into the Dark Lord's good books. I helped Harry Potter destroy the Horcruxes. I helped you win this war!"

He had! It was true! Yet, it was too hard to believe.

"Someone, help me," he pleaded softly. There was no reply.

All his life, he had been alone. But, whenever he truly needed help, someone was usually there to make an attempt, even a pathetic one. Now, there really was no one. He had to do everything himself.

A tear, a warm tear, slid down his cheek and he shut his eyes, trying to concentrate on the warmth of that tear. But after a few seconds, the tear got cold and eventually froze right on his cheek. He brushed it away and sighed.

He remembered when they had discussed giving him the Dementor's Kiss. Then... he had nearly sobbed at the idea.

Now, it didn't seem so bad compared to what he had got - A lifetime in Azkaban. A lifetime alone with no human contact.

Lovely.

Well, he did speak with the Minister. Because he was one of the highest security prisoners - pardon, THE highest security prisoner - in Azkaban, the Minister wanted to see him. Kingsley Shacklebolt came into his cell and knelt down by him, with two guards holding the prisoner back, although he wasn't going to do anything.

"Hello, Snape. How is Azkaban treating you?" asked Kingsley.

"Terrible, but that's what you want, isn't it?" retorted Severus.

"Still as sarcastic as always, I see," said Kingsley.

"Some things never change," assured Severus.

"You're the best example of that, Snape," said Kingsley. "You want to hurt me, don't you?"

"Why would I?" asked Severus in earnest. "It would only cause me more harm, and it would accomplish nothing good. I'm weak and useless here. Wandless. I can't do anything; not that I want to."

"Hmm... true. Let him go, he's harmless," ordered Kingsley. "Leave the cell. You can stay by the door."

"What do you want with me, Minister?" he inquired.

"I want to talk to you," said Kingsley. "Seven months in Azkaban and you're still as sane as ever. That new prisoner went mad after an hour. How do you do it; stay sane?"

"Sirius Black has taught me some tricks, Minister," said Severus simply. "We have the same method that keeps us sane."

"And what would that be?" questioned Kingsley.

"You would never believe it," stated Severus.

"Try me," prodded Kingsley.

"Alright," he said. "I have one thought that the Dementors cannot suck out of me."

"A happy thought?" asked Kingsley.

"No... Not exactly," said Severus. "Just a thought. Not a bad one, but not a good one either."

"A memory?" he guessed.

"There are many memories that go with this thought," said Severus. "But, it's the thought itself that keeps me sane"

"And that is?" Kingsley asked.

"I'm innocent," he stated.

"No, you're not," accused Kingsley.

"Yes I am," assured Severus. "That's how I keep sane."

"You are going mad," stated Kingsley. "You know you're guilty, you lying bastard. Tell me the truth."

"I told you the truth, Minister," retorted Severus. "And, I also told you that you would not believe me."

"There are witnesses who saw you kill Dumbledore," stated Kingsley.

"Be that as it may, Minister," drawled Severus. "I stand by my claim. I always will."

"Filthy traitor," grumbled Kingsley as he took his leave.

That was all he was to anyone.

But it wasn't the truth; he knew that. That was good enough for him.

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This story was adopted from The Half-Blood Princesss. This type of story has intrigued me for some time. You should check out some of her other works, as she's a great writer. Oh, and thank you for the inspiration.