A/N: I am still writing my other story Expectations, but I've felt really inspired by this idea, so I decided to write it. The story takes places during the time of the Marauders, and possibly post-Hogwarts.

And of course, I sadly do not own Harry Potter, it belongs to JKR. And I sincerely apologize for any spelling errors.

Story Quote (or definition as it were): Angst- (in philosophy) the dread caused by man's awareness that his future is not determined but must be freely chosen.

Severus Snape was not paying attention. In less than a year, he would take the mark from the Dark Lord, and he was scared. Severus prided himself on his focus, but as the day loomed over his head, he wasn't able to focus on much anymore. And he was remembering his dreams, if you could even call them that. They were nightmares, that he thought he repressed with Occulemcy, but every night, he remembered when Remus Lupin almost attacked him in his werewolf form.

Small teardrops formed in his eyes as he remembered the night, and the fear, so much fear. As he felt the first drop fall onto his shoulder, he hands met his face as he furiously wiped away the tears. "Damn Black and Potter! One day they will feel the same pain I felt," he mumbled dangerously.

Severus looked down at the book in his lap, The Darkest Magick, flicking through the pages Severus found an old spell he was working on translating. He was entranced by the book. During one of his studying sessions in the library, he found the book, hidden among a book about the power of souls.

He was lost in his book. This is where Severus' power lied, not in his looks or how many friends he could attain, but in how much he knew.

"Snape? Snape? Do you have a moment?" A tall girl stood in front of Snape. Her hand was purposefully placed against her wand, like she expected Severus to curse her for speaking to him. He put down his book, and rolled his eyes.

"And who are you," he said snidely. Severus was just getting immersed in his book, and now he would have to wait to engage in mundane niceties.

"I'm Genevieve. We have Transfiguration together remember?" Her voice was small and timid, two things that Severus could never respect in a person.

"Why are you bothering me Genevieve from Transfiguration," Severus mocked. His fingers rapped against the leather book cover. The girl pulled out a crumpled letter, and smoothed it against her leg.

"I'm supposed to deliver a letter to you. Take it," she commanded weakly. Snape frowned. The letter didn't say who wrote it. If he'd learned anything from his brief Death Eater training, he knew never to go to meetings like this.

"Who's it from Genevieve. A proper messenger says who the note is from."

"I-I-I don't know. It was left on my bed this morning, and it said if I didn't deliver the message someone would kill my family," she whimpered.

A wave of naseau passed over Severus. Some people were so weak. And couldn't even protect themselves…like him. No he wasn't weak, or he wouldn't be soon enough, he'd only have to wait for the summer, and he would prove to everyone that he was strong.

Genevieve saw it, like she did every day. Something had happened to Severus last year. The look on his face was like a prisoner plotting revenge against his captor. He wasn't paying attention to her, he was trapped inside his own mind, working out some problem that no one knew existed.

She studied his face, and saw lines of worry and stress that only appeared on the face of a man three times his age. Genevieve wanted to help him, to ease the sorrow that he felt, as a Hufflepuff, it was her duty to help those in need. She reached out to place her hand on his shoulder.

Severus was lost in his thoughts, but her could sense that Genevieve was still there. Most realized when he wanted to be alone, but damned Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors seemed to be the ones who didn't.

"You can go now Genevieve," he yelled, swatting her hand away. Snape's face was calm, but his voice conveyed a hatred that she had never experienced before.

The timid Hufflepuff didn't need to be told twice, and scurried away like the frightened Badger that she was. She fled off away from the grassy patch that he sat off, until Severus could no longer see her.

"Who would send me a letter," he said to himself, while pulling out the note.

"Meet me at the Room of Requirement at Midnight. I'm assuming you know where that is. Come alone," it read. Sighing, he put the crumpled note and his beloved book into his satchel. Many the note was a joke from Lucius, Avery, Bellatrix, or the self-named Marauders.

"If someone's going to try to make a fool, I'm going to be ready," Severus said aloud. He pulled out The Darkest Magick, and swore he would have that curse memorized before midnight.

Genevieve fell to the ground, squirming violent against the cold cement of the girl's bathroom.

"I delivered the message! I promise! I didn't tell him a thing," she shouted into the darkness.

"I've read your mind. You told him small details that you shouldn't have said. I warned you that there would be consequences to your actions."

Genevieve began to cry. This would be the end, she could tell. But if she could figure out who was doing this maybe someone could read her mind, and save Severus before something terrible happened to him. The clinking of heels was the only noise she could make out. Whoever was doing this was a girl, if you could even call her that. Girls were meant to be kind and warm, not using Unforgivables.

"Tell me who you are. Let's fight face to face." She tried to fuel the anger of her attacker, maybe they would reveal something of use.

"Don't worry your pretty, little head about my identity. You will suffer Genevieve. I've read your thoughts, and you wanted to tell him. Thinking it is just as much a betrayal as saying it," the cold, female voice replied.

She tried to move around, maybe if she could find her wand, she could protect herself. She was never that good at Defense, but if it came down to it, Genevieve was hopeful her spells would be powerful enough.

"I think I'm going to kill you now. I'm not sure if I should do it by my own hand. Maybe crucio you into insanity until you end it all. The possibilities are endless," her attacker considered.

"Please don't kill me! I promise I won't say a thing! Not a damned thing. Just let me go!" She pushed herself up, and tried to face her captor, but her legs collapsed under her.

"My dear friend, don't try to run, it only makes me want to hurt you more," the unknown girl laughed.

Genevieve stopped at the sound of her voice. Only one person ever said that to her. A classmate that hated her the moment she saw her.

"Eva, I know it's you. Show yourself," she yelled. For some reason, knowing who was trying to hurt her was empowering.

Eva moved closer to her newest victim. Playing with Genevieve's weak mind was no longer fun, but revealing her identity created new excitement. She tapped her wand against her head, and contemplated her next step. Killing her would surely be messy. Plus, it would add to Dumbledore's distrust of her, which she couldn't afford right now.

"I've decided to be kind Genevieve, or deal you a worse fate depending on your perspective."

She pointed her wand at the broken Hufflepuff, and a far more terrible spell fell from her lips.

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