Thank you so much to Firebolt and JohnTFS for their input, you really helped me out of a jam. Thank you thank you thank you, a thousand times, thank you.

****Harry potter and all affiliated characters, places and objects are the property of JK Rowling her publishers and Warner brothers.*****

Requiem for a Sinner

Chapter1: Green Flame

I shouldn't be here. The thought was imprinted in her brain like a flashy neon sign. We shouldn't be here. Hermione Granger turned to look in Harrys' direction. he stood examining an amber amulet which glowed softly in the dim light of the store. His face was sombre, he seemed entranced by the glow. Quitely Hermione stepped closer to him.

"Harry" she whispered gently touching his arm "Harry we should go."

Harry blinked and shook himself. It seemed his had just woken from a very deep sleep. Quickly he placed the amulet back on the counter, Hermione watched as the light it gave off faded and died. She looked questioningly at Harry, who just shook his head, gently she guided him away from the counter towards the door. She saw him look back once, momentarily a look of terror swept over his face, as if he were remembering a childhood nightmare. But it passed as quickly as it came.

Hermione felt weak, the musty smell of the shop was making her nauseous. All she wanted was to be away from this place. Why, why did I ever let him convince me to go look around in knockturn alley. I should have known better.........

"Oh!" Hermione let out a groan of pain, she hadn't been paying attention and had walked right into a low rickety table. The table rocked and a small metal object rolled onto the floor, breaking into two pieces. Almost immediately the greasy sales clerk was beside them, muttering about careless teenagers.

"Please sir." Hermione began apologetically "let me buy it."

"Ha!" the salesman spat over his shoulder. " Do you even know what this is? As if I would see a green flame torch to a foolhardy child like yourself."

"Well good luck selling it now that it's in pieces. Please just let me buy it."

The man seemed to rethink his decision, "50 galleons."

Hermione stifled a gasp and began to rummage around in her bag, knowing she didn't have the money, but she felt so sick at the moment at the moment that she really didn't want to argue he price. Harry pressed 50 galleons into her palm.

"No Harry, It's too much." she protested.

Harry grinned "Take it you klutz, consider it a birthday present"

Gratefully Hermione took the money and paid the salesman. Gruffly he shoved a bad containing the green flame torch into her hands. Hermione nearly ran out the doors of the shop, relived to be out in the cold dank air of Knockturn alley. She shivered there was nothing comforting in this place, it was all so dark and uninviting, like a place the sun forgot. Still it was better than the store behind her, slowly she began to walk, trying to shake off her illness.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked.

Hermione shook her head. "I think I'm going to throw up." A wave of nausea sent her stomach spinning. Gruffly she shoved the bag containing the green flame torch into Harrys' hands as she ran around the side of the building into a dark alley. If I must throw up, I refuse to do it out in the open.

With the uncanny speed that comes with extreme urgency Hermione yanked the lid off a trash can and threw up inside it. She groaned and sank to the stone pavement. The smell of rotting garbage and bile was overpowering, but she didn't feel strong enough to leave. Instead she stood and threw up into the garbage can again.

Only then did she realize with embarrassment that Harry was standing beside her. Her face became hot and she turned to look at him. Harry was not looking at her. He was looking beyond her into the dark corner of the alley. Slowly Hermione turned to face whatever it was that held Harry in such a trance like state.

At first glance it appeared to be a jumble of rancid rags, but when she looked closer Hermione could see hair and facial features she could not quite make out in the light. It was a man who lay before them in a heap. A man thrown out with the trash. Hermione watched in horror as he began to move.

"Harry." She whispered "Harry, I think we should leave." Her friend stood stalk still in his place. Face transfixed on the person. "Please Harry, we should go." Hermione began to gently push Harry but he stopped her.

"Hermione," He said still gazing at the figure in the alley, who was now trying to stand. "Hermione that's................I can't believe it.....Hermione, that's Snape!"

Something made her heart drop from her chest. She face the figure and recognized the sharp features, the distinct nose, the greasy hair now matted and tangled. His eyes had lost their spark, now all that remained in them was a glossed over look. As if her were a lost child.

Snape struggled forward, her tripped, Hermione gave a tiny shriek and leapt out of his way. Harry caught their potions master by the shoulder and gently steadied the man.

"Professor Snape" Harry asked "Are you alright?" Professor. Answer me, are you alright?"

Snape looked confusedly from Harry to Hermione, as though he was fighting to remember who they were. Suddenly his legs gave way beneath him and he crashed to the ground with a despairing thud. Harry knelt down and tried to help him up, but it was obvious to see the Snape was too weak to stand.

"Hermione! Go get help!" Harry shouted. Sickness forgotten Hermione sprinted back out into the street and disappeared around a corner.

Now Harry was alone with Snape. The older man smelled of rotted food and feces, his breathing was coming in short raspy gasps.

"Please professor, hold on, just a little longer, Hermione is going to get help."

Snape reached out a filthy hand and drew Harrys' head close to him.

"Tell Catherine.......tell Catherine I'm sorry......." Snapes' eyes closed and his breathing silenced.

"HELP!" Harry shouted as he shook Snape trying desperately to revive him. "Somebody please help me!"

The silence in knockturn alley was deafening, the only sounds Harry could hear was the blood rushing through his veins and the pounding of his own heart. Silently he bent his head and issued a silent prayer up to the heavens, A prayer that begged for help not to come too late.