Disclaimer: It should be blatantly obvious by now that I am not J.K Rowlling. If I was, I would be a billionaire and not scrounging to get by while earning an English degree. I would also not have saw fit to murder Severus Snape, nor would I verbally bash him every time I did an interview and someone asked me a question about him.

No, I'm not bitter at all … I just… yea I suppose I am a little bitter…but that's not the point.

The point is that I am not J.K and I do not own Harry Potter, Severus Snape, nor (perhaps most unfortunately) the gorgeous, talented, velvet-voiced Alan Rickman.

Note: This chapter is more of a prologue. Severus recalls a conversation that is taken from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Yes, it is the exact dialogue extended and with a bit more of Sev's internal thoughts (as pictured by me) added.. Yes, it is property of JK Rowlling. No, I am not going to change it. No, the entire fic is going to be that way, but it this has to start somewhere and this conversation was a good way to set the tone. I urge you to just please bare with me through this chapter and you have my word that it will get better.

Chapter 1:

Late Night

Severus Snape gathered his wand and a large vial of gold-looking liquid, a ritual that occurred weekly now. It was time yet again. He knew could not ignore the hour any longer. It was eleven o'clock. The night sky had long since overtaken the sunset and all of students within the walls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were now asleep. Most people, in fact, were likely now dreaming… but not Severus. He had yet another obligation to tend to. However, he was no stranger to the late hours of the night and could seldom afford the luxury of a long night's rest.

While most of the school remained carelessly at rest, Severus quickly made his way up to the Headmaster's office with the items he had gathered. He had become a regular visitor to the room since the start of term. The hours of his visits with the headmaster were always late at night, as the matters they discussed should not be spoken of in daylight. Severus would have rather not spoken of the at all. A new topic, even more grim than his usual reports on the dark lord's activities, now dominated their late night conversations. Just the thought of the pending words to be spoken made Severus uneasy and sent a chill down his spine as he moved through the familiar corridors of the school.

He recalled all too well the conversation and the request that now consumed not only his time with the headmaster, but most of his thoughts as well. This request was the reason he now dreaded being in the same room as Albus Dumbledore, the reason why he could no longer meet his kind, twinkling eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. All too often, Severus wondered why he had given his consent so easily. He replayed the night over and over again in his mind in an attempt to discover the answer, the reason for his weakness.

***Start Flashback***

Only minutes before, Severus had been furious. He had been called back to Hogwarts days earlier than he had intended. Upon his arrival, he was rushed to the headmaster's office… greeted by the sight of Dumbledore slumped over in his oversized chair at his desk. His blue eyes looked glossed over, as if the twinkle of life was quickly fleeting from them. He was also pale, deathly so… save for his right hand which looked like it had been severely burned. He gazed at the most powerful wizard known to their world from the doorway, dumbfounded. He poised his mouth to speak, the words 'what happened' on his lips when the answer presented itself. A ring lay innocently on the desk, cracked along with a sword with a golden handle. Severus knew immediately what he had done. The heat of rage filled his body instantly. He flashed the nearly unconscious man an angry look before storming off to the potion stores, though they were no longer his.

The former potions master had then returned in record time to Dumbledore's office, carrying a goblet full of gold potion and his wand. Without wasting a single movement, he made his way over to the headmaster and began working. His right hand, clutching the wand tightly, moved in swift motions toward the wrist of Dumbledore singed looking appendage. Severus began muttering incantations to suppress the curse inevitably moving to claim his employer's life while his left hand held the goblet of potion up to Dumbledore's lips. All the while, the anger was mounting inside him. It took great restraint not to shove the goblet down his patient's foolish throat.

After a while of the treatment Dumbledore opened his normally bright blue eyes, a bit of the twinkle restored to them, and looked at Severus. It was only then, when he was alert enough to remember the conversation, that the former potions master let his anger be known. He spoke fiercely about the stupidity of the thing he had done. Dumbledore smiled crookedly and confirmed his own carelessness with a mild, conversational tone of voice. His injuries, however, were not his primary concern. In fact, they seemed trivial compared to what was going outside the wall of Hogwarts.

It was only a few statements later that the conversation took the faithful turn left Severus ensnared in an impossible turn of fait. As if his health did not matter at all. Dumbledore began inquiring about the dark lord and Draco Malfoy.

"Now then, your first priority will be to discover what Draco is up to. A frightened teenage boy is a danger to others as well and himself. Offer him help and guidance, he ought to accept, his likes you-"

"Much less since his father has lost favor." Severus interrupted. Not so long ago, this would have been no great task at all. He had always kept a watchful eye on young Malfoy. They had liked each other… until Lucius had been sent to Azkaban. Now, he doubted what he could do on this matter. "Draco blames me, he thinks I have usurped Lucius' position."

"All the same, try," Dumbledore instructed a bit more sternly. " I am concerned less for myself than for accidental victims of whatever schemes might occur to the boy. Ultimately, of course, there is only one thing to be done if we are to save him from Lord Voldemort's wrath."

Severus raised his eyebrows and looked at Dumbledore. Surely, he wasn't planning on lying down like a trained dog when Draco made his attempt at taking his life. "Are you planning to let him kill you?" He asked, his voice dipped in sarcasm, an outward attempt to disguise his concern.

"Certainly not." The headmaster replied quickly. This thought had not even crossed his mind. He would sooner let the curse that now coursed through his being take him. He had something else in mind… something that he could only hope that his employee would see the reasoning behind through his quick-flaring temper. "You must kill me."

Everything seemed to stop in Severus' head. His breath caught, a sound so soft that no one else could have heard. Part of him had been expecting to hears those words for months. Yet, part if him had not. That voice inside his head had told him that it was too much for Dumbledore to ask of him, that he would not ask him to endure this burden. Surely he would know what it was that he was truly asking and why he would want so reverently to refuse.

The sound of Fawkes chewing idly on a cuddlebone brought Severus out of his mind's trance. He responded, yet again, with sarcasm. In his mind, he was determined to have time… not to answer this request formally… not tonight anyway. "Would you like me to do it now? Or would you like a few moments to compose and epitaph?"

"Oh, not quite yet," Dumbledore responded , a smile still, perched on his face. He decided to proceed as if his employee had already consented, which he had great faith he would do soon… without his usual sarcasm or spiteful remarks. "I daresay the moment will present itself in due course. Given what has happened here tonight… we can be sure it will happen within a year."

"If you don't mind dying," Severus almost spat, becoming more and more exasperated. The old man was acting as if he was merely asking to borrow a handkerchief. This was a matter of life and death, not just for himself, but for the former potions master as well. Severus wondered if the thought even crossed his mind… if he realized that he might as well be signing two death warrants if he agreed. "Why not let Draco do it?"

"That boy's soul is not yet so damaged," the headmaster responded calmly, though he knew that trying to reason with the man before him was futile. He would have to come the realization that refusal was not an option in his own mind first. He knew what he was asking and he did not take it as lightly as he seemed to outwardly. He knew that Severus would soon understand why he had asked such an impossible task of him. It had to be him. If he had not already damaged himself so much years ago, he would not have asked. "I would not have it ripped apart on my account.

"Any my soul, Dumbledore? Mine?" Severus inquired desperately. He knew perfectly well that he had done horrible things in the past… things that he now sought to atone for by spying on the dark lord and assisting the Order of the Phoenix however he could. But what he do when Dumbledore, the only one who knew everything… the only one that would ever know everything well enough to trust him, was gone? What could possibly atone for the murder of Albus Dumbledore?

"You alone know whether it will harm your soul to help an old man avoid pain and humiliation… I ask this one great favor of you, Severus…"

Upon hearing these words, all Severus could do was look into the man's eyes, full of pleading and intense sincerity. He could no longer hear the words he was saying. Instead, he was fully engrossed in his own thoughts. Without warning or intention, he was reminded of his father. Every curse against what he had brought into the world… his own son, every slap thrown at his mother in an attempt at atone for it replayed itself simultaneously. Then, Severus' mind jumped to the night that he had came to Dumbledore in his knees begging for Lily's life. Despite his initial disgust, he had taken him in… and offered him a chance to repent for the things that he had done… like a father once again accepting his prodigal son. The man now begging him for help for help had been the closest thing to a father he had ever known.

Father. It was this train of thought that had led him down the path of no return… the path to his own death as well as Dumbledore's. He knew at that moment that he could no longer simply ignore the request. There was no one else who could do it. If he refused… the headmaster would suffer more than he could ever imagine. Severus realized that he could not… would not allow him endure such a fait. At last, unable to speak, Severus gave a nod, his final consent to bare the burden that the old man asked of him.

"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore said quietly. It was all that he could offer his savior, his sincere and heart-felt thanks, though he knew it was not enough. "I shall certainly rest easier in the knowledge that you have agreed to do this for me."

Severus looked again into Dumbledore's blue eyes. He knew that he meant his thanks… meant it with his entire fragile being. Still, this did not make what he was going to have to do any easier. "Good," He said after a few more seconds of silence. "Because you are certainly going to need the rest."

***End Flashback***

'So that was it,' Severus thought to himself as he stood momentarily in the hall outside the entrance to the headmaster's office. The reason for his weakness that night was that he thought of Dumbledore not as an employer… not even as a dear friend… but, in that moment, he had seen him as a father… more of one than he deserved. He wasn't quite sure what to make of that particular thought. He also didn't know how the feeling had came about so quickly… and became powerful enough to demand his life. Perhaps it had been in his head much monger, just waiting for an opportune moment to reveal itself. Perhaps not. All he knew was that it was done now. There was no since standing outside a door like a git and contemplating it now. The time for that had passed.

Severus shook his head to outwardly remove these thought from his mind and took another step toward the griffin statue. Under his breath, he muttered the words, "Acid pops," and began the upward venture to Dumbledore's office.