Unspoken Words

Kudos to Kati for the idea for this one. Something I have always wondered about—surely Snape came back to say his goodbyes—or at least to have the final word. My final tear jerker of the day!


Blue eyes saw the shadow move against the wall. He had been expecting the visitor for two hours. Of course, he would have been to report the events of the night. He would have to go to his master, to see his reaction.

But the return to here was inevitable.

Severus Snape drew back his hood, stepping into the darkened room. The apparent killer had slipped in, unseen to the eyes clouded with grief and misery. Only now was he happy to reveal himself—for there was no one there with him.

Or so Snape thought—but he would not appear to the younger man just yet.

Snape walked down the stairs, his movements jerky as if every muscle and bone hurt. He stared across at the body lying on the stone table opposite him. A spasm of grief crossed his white face. He looked different. No more than two hours had passed—and yet, so much had changed. His eyes.

Severus' eyes were infinitely sad. He had been expecting—perhaps them to be dead. He had been expecting a void of emotion. Instead, he saw eyes that he knew all too well.

Severus' eyes resembled those of his own; someone who had seen the death of someone he had loved more than anything else.

Even worse, he had been the one to commit the final blow.

Severus staggered down the steps—was he hurt?—and leant against the cold stone, looking with desperation at the body. "I was hoping it was just a dream."

His voice, changed too. Worn. An edge that he had never heard before, and one that forced a blade into his heart.

Snape sighed, an exhalation that was long and painful, "It's real. You're gone." He sank down into a sitting position by the table, weary. "I've told him. He was pleased. As we expected, I am his favourite once again. Killing Albus Dumbledore, what an achievement. He is so pleased he has let Draco off punishment. For now." His words confirmed that the plan had been successful—except, they were devoid of triumph.

"I can't believe this. Who am I supposed to turn to now?"

He wanted to answer—but that was forbidden, and he couldn't. He could only watch.

He had been wondering when the anger would come—it had been such a stressful time, and he had seen the cracks starting to show. Now, the pain overflowed and oozed from deep wounds.

"Why did this have to happen?" He jumped up, staring at Dumbledore in an accusing way, "How is the Light supposed to triumph now?!" He shouted, "What have you done?!" He paced backwards and forwards, hopelessness twisting his features. "What's going to happen now?"

He stopped, and turned back to face the body, "What's going to happen to me?" His voice sounded desperate, "How could you do this to me?" He moved over to his dead mentor, "Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?"

Snape was so young, he thought. How could he have done this to him? How he wanted to take him in his arms and tell him that this was all for the greater good, how it had to happen to defeat Voldemort once and for all.

And yet, he doubted that even he could have done, it would have eased the pain at all.

"What?! No smart answer?" Snape bellowed, "No "But Severus, it is all for the greater good?" No "We will bring him down?" Am I no longer worthy of your lies?" He smashed his first into the side of the table, the sound of knuckles crunching echoing around the small room. "And to think, I trusted you. You told me I would never hurt again. Well, I'll tell you this, Headmaster, there is no pain like this!" He swore loudly, "You made me murder the one person I loved more than anything else in this world. Heavens, not even the Dark Lord made me do that!" He stormed around the room, ignoring his fist dripping blood onto the marble flooring. "And to think, I loved you."

He quietened, sighing again. "I killed you because I loved you. This is the only way to ease my conscience? You told me that I was doing you a favour. I could have stopped the Curse—why didn't you let me stop the Curse? How can we win without you?" He reached out with one hand, his bloodied fingers touching the flesh coloured, still fingers of Dumbledore. "How can I survive without you? I need you." He shook his head, "They need you. But I suppose I need you more. No one else understands. No one else knows what position I am in. Who am I supposed to come to when I am near to breaking?"

He felt his heart break at Snape's words.

Snape clutched the hand tight, unwilling to let go, "I wish I had told you this when you were alive. Maybe you would have reconsidered your actions. Maybe you would have thought before asking me to kill you. Or maybe you would have carried on anyway. How could you shut those feelings out? You always told me I had such excellent emotional control. But not when it comes to you, Headmaster." He swallowed painfully, "Why didn't you know what would happen to me..."

Of course he had known! But Snape's words had struck home—he would have carried on anyway. He wouldn't have stopped with the plan, even if Snape had thrown himself on his knees and begged him. He would have still asked him.

And Snape, being the intelligent, passionate, beautiful Severus Snape, would have obeyed him anyway. He had used and abused that privilege; and now he was seeing the effects of his selfishness.

Severus had started to sob, a noise that he was not used to hearing. How he wanted it to stop—he could not bear this. Don't cry, he wanted to tell him, please don't cry.

"You never realised how much I loved you, did you? How could you?" A sharp intake of breath punctuated his sentences. "You never looked far enough. You never saw how I followed your every example...I wonder if you knew how much you meant to me. I would have done anything for you, Headmaster. I would have laid down my life for you. I would have murdered for you." He paused, and the sob forced itself from his throat. "I never thought...that my murder would be you." Speaking it aloud seemed to make it worse, and he finally collapsed. He rested his head in his hands, hiding them away from his last victim.

The anguished sobs were physical torture. He felt them reverberate inside his skull, driving nails into his skin, ripping a blade down through his heart. Yet he knew he deserved every last blow.

Severus' breathing steadied just for a moment, and he raised his head. He had to leave; he had lingered too long. They would be missing him.

You need to go, dear child. He wanted to hold him one final time. But this time, there would be no embrace to chase the nightmares away. They both knew it.

Snape bent over the still figure of Dumbledore, looking down at the wizened face, as if absorbing every detail into his memory. "I will make sure...your sacrifice was not in vain, Headmaster. I will bring him down—I promise you that. I will make you proud of me." He pressed a soft kiss to Dumbledore's forehead, remaining close for moments afterward. "I loved you like a father, Albus Dumbledore. You were everything to me. You were both my saviour and the man who destroyed me. But even after all this, I still love you. I can't help it. I would reshape my entire world, just for you."

"Severus!" He cried, trying to communicate with the boy. But he did not hear. "Severus, I know."

Snape smiled sadly at the body, "Good bye, Headmaster. I doubt we will meet again. For when you lie in Heaven...I will lie in Hell. For that is all I deserve." He turned away, steeling his expression and raising his hood. He looked back one final time. "I didn't deserve you." And with that he was gone.

He reached out, almost to touch him before he left. "Severus..."

But the boy did not turn.

He felt his own tears roll down his cheeks—he had never meant for it to happen like this. And yet, he had planned it. He had known it was going to happen. Severus Snape was wrong; the heroic wizard deserved to rest in Heaven.

Whereas Albus Dumbledore, be him in physical or spiritual form, deserved Hell. He spoke the words anyway, although he knew he would not hear them, although he knew they would have made no different anyway.

"I am so sorry, Severus Snape."

And the treacherous three words he should have said more often, but never found the time or the emotion. When he had been alive, it was all about planning and plotting. He had never taken the second to look at the wonderful friend and son he had acquired, and tell him just how proud of him he was.

But the three words came now, when they were far too late, and he had the whole of eternity to wonder why on earth such a brave young man deserved to be abused in such a way.

"I love you, Severus. I really do. But you will never know." He moved across the room, and watched the hooded figure shoot across the dark grounds. He swallowed, "Go on, my brave soldier. One final time into the fight. But afterwards, Severus...afterwards, I promise you will rest."

And even though he was dead, even though he had no control, and even though he was responsible for everything that the man was about to experience—he knew that he would keep that promise.


Oh I think I am feeling low at the moment, hence all these depressing fics! If anyone has any ideas, I would be happy to hear them! Thank you for reading! SS19 x