A/U Hello amazing people! Here is a little story I wrote. I honestly do not know how good it is however, so I would GREATLY appreciate feedback. I have a small follow up on this so please tell me if you think I should upload it as well. A warning, it is rather dreadful compared to this, so I do not know...
Any ways, please enjoy this.

Disclaimer: I sadly do not own Harry Potter, or Severus, but I do own a box! Not this one though... Enough regrets!
On With The Show!..

Hidden
Dark
Years
A flash of red, two smiles
Youth
Joy
Lost
Smiling Green, distant laughter
Gone
Pain
Dead
Dead

Hidden from the world is a small chest. It is almost lost to memory. Only one man knows of its existence but he shoves the memory away, He is afraid of being reminded of the pain he feels whenever his eyes fall on the box. And so it was hidden; out of sight out of mind. He ignores it and has almost forgotten its existence.

Dark wraps a blanket on all of the contents of this treasure. The gentle caress of light has not been in the presence of the abandoned memories for time forgotten. The green scarf with Gryffindor red was folded neatly. It was slightly threadbare, proof that it had indeed been worn. There was also an old snow globe depicting a clearing surrounded by trees and a river running through the meadow. Underneath that was a leather bound photo album. Other priceless artifacts included; stacks of letters, a glass owl, various birthday cards, and a photograph.

Years have gone by since any of those have felt the warmth of sunlight or of a loving hand. Slowly ticking by, time passes seemingly much too slow. Then, looking back, the speed with which the years have passed comes as a surprise. A day has become nothing but a moment; a year, a simple minute in time. Each second of the clock dulls memory and coats all things with age. Yet, after time, and through the total darkness, the details of a special photo can still be made out.

A flash of red is seen as the girls hair is pulled by a particularly strong gust of wind. It had been fall when this photo was taken and the leaves had danced in the wind as if to say that they were going to play one last time before winter truly fell. It had seemed as if the girl's vibrant locks wanted to play as well. They had whipped around violently, and had often smacked her companion in the face. For some forgotten reason, the girl hadn't thought to pull her hair back that morning. Two smiles shown as they waited for the Care of Magical Creatures professor to arrive. The two enjoyed each other's company as, in a rare moment of carefree spirit, the boy lowered his mask. Neither had expected this moment to be captured, but, expected or not, a 'click' ensnared that day into its web.

Youth can be seen as either a blessing or a curse. The troubles of the world do not fall on the shoulders of the young quite so heavily. But then, they are so much more impressionable. Although the young refuse to acknowledge it, they know that those older are wiser. They expect their elders to guide and guard them. The youth expect them, in some cases, to understand. The boy in the photo, being young and impressionable, trusted the wrong people and fell into their trap.

Joy is not the same is happiness. When you are happy it is in that moment, it is for now, but joy is so much more. Joy is everlasting and stays with you. When the two in the photo were together, they felt joy. Although the two fell apart, memories still brought them joy. If that joy was accompanied by a pain too terrible for him to bear, can the boy, now a man, be blamed for shoving it away? Some will say yes, others will say no, but it is not for us to judge.

Lost are the carefree hearts that existed all those years ago. One no longer beats to the rhythm of life, and the other is bogged down by turmoils and guilt. Guilt is a dreadful thing that wears down the strongest of men. None can survive whole under that terrible power. The only thing that keeps this man from collapsing is a promise made to the two who showed they care even when he did what was wrong. Now, both of those are lost and now nothing can soothe his heavy heart that had once been light.

Smiling Green eyes flash as the girl turns toward the bearer of the camera. The man, if he tries hard enough –not that he does –can remember the chase that ensued and how, panting the girl finally ceases. She declares that if the photo is ever to leave that camera two copies must be given, one to each of the subjects. Those are the only two ever made. Only one is left, the other destroyed by unforeseen events. Distant laughter echoes in the photo and can be seen clearly in the eyes and broad grins of the two. Laughter is so rare these days.

Gone is the friendship that bound those two so closely. They were disbanded by two warring worlds. Friends each fight each other and those closest whisper words in their ears. These words plant seeds of doubt, no matter how hard they fight against it. Is it honestly such a surprise that one word slipped out? That one thing proved all the evidence of guilt true? Is it such a surprise that they, mere fifteen year olds cracked under the pressure. Somehow, it doesn't seem too hard to believe.

Pain is a product of every war. No matter which side someone claims, sacrifices are made. Sometimes the sacrifices are miniscule, and then there are sacrifices which are tremendous. There are people who sacrifice their very lives to protect another. A woman dies to save her son, a leader dies to protect a boy and to win the war. This man puts his life on the line, works with those he despises, and gives up any friend he may have. Ultimately he gives his life.

Dead are many of those he strived to protect. Working under the cruel scrutiny of a master he pretends to serve, he is forced to perform heinous acts against innocents. Yet, he works continually. Suffering sleepless nights on end, he works to finish the task he is set. He is obliged to lie; to his enemy, to his friends, and to himself. The air is tense; it is as if the very castle in which he lives knows that everything must soon come to a head. For the first time in over twenty years, he takes out his treasure. Opening it, he handles the forgotten prizes and remembers. His heart breaks as he looks at the photo of that long ago day and tears fall down his crooked nose. Carefully, he places the letter written in the girls hand and the torn picture he took, all those months ago, and places them in the box. He shuts the chest, never to look upon it again.

Dead, he lies in the shrieking Shack with a look of peace so foreign that many people would not have thought it possible, even in death. When he is found, bloody and paler that what anyone could have imagined, those who were once his friends feel guilt for turning aside and hating him. Then, there are those who always despised him who feel shock at his true nature. People who considered him a friend and ally are disgusted at his true loyalties. So well placed was his mask, so complete were his lies that no one ever knew the true Severus Snape. The closest to ever figuring him out was a small girl with flying red hair, smiling green eyes and a beaming smile, and who's distant laughter echoes in the depths of time; Lily Evans