Avada Kedavra. Those hated, hated words. The wizard who came up with them should never have been born. Imagine giving such power to any fool in a robe. The power to destroy the most sacred of things, life.
Snape's stomach gave a sickening lurch as a cloud of viridian exploded in the grounds close to him. He flexed his fingers nervously. A horrible scream rang out, shrill and alone in the night. Death was everywhere. And suddenly all his childish misgivings didn't matter any more.
It was a fight for life, not a fight for popularity, or house points in a school. It wasn't about stupid pranks and grudges. It was about death. It was about the end. And Severus Snape had an uneasy suspicion that he knew what the outcome would be. If he was correct, then nobody would be safe. Not muggles, wizards, or anything. It would mean the end of civilisation.
Funny, he reflected bitterly, how easy it was for civilisation to be destroyed. An ounce of panic and this human façade gets stripped away like the skins of an onion. It never lasts. People turn from pleasant proper citizens to raging self-absorbed lunatics in an instant.
It wouldn't happen to him, though. Not him. He heard voices close by, and laughter, and tears. He tightened his grip on his wand, and readied it in front of him. He would be ready for them when they came. The castle rumbled far off, like a tiny earthquake. Would Hogwarts fall? Would it just crumble into dust as if the centuries of history surrounding it meant nothing at all?
He wondered briefly about the students. Were they safe? Dumbledore had ordered them all sent away a week before the fighting started. The battle, really. Probably the final battle. The legendary one between good and evil. But this time good might not prevail.
He hovered uncertainly by the black lake, staring into the icy depths. Where was Harry Potter? Was he still alive? He seemed to be powerful, and he had fought with Voldemort before, he may stand a chance. If you could call it a chance. It was more like suicide.
Whatever you did, you died. If you ran, you were hunted down. If you fought, you were murdered. And Avada Kadavra didn't help. Most people considered themselves too noble to use it, realising far to late that it was their only hope of surviving. Snape didn't consider himself noble at all. He would guard Hogwarts with his life, if necessary. Because it was his life. He was a potions teacher at Hogwarts. Without that, he was nothing. Just a shallow, selfish man with a large nose and untidy hair, wallowing in his own misery. As a teacher he had power, and people were passionate about him. He was only truly alive when he was in a classroom. So it was only fitting that he should die at Hogwarts too.
Maybe he was the only one left. The silence surrounding him was eerie and unnerving, it filled him with doubt and worry. Maybe they were all dead. Harry, Draco, Dumbledore, Trelawney, Granger, Longbottom. If they were all dead then he wouldn't really have a school to go back to.
Somebody appeared on the opposite side of the lake. Somebody with an aura of hatred and evil surrounding him. Snape turned his head, his wand pointing at the lone figure. Even in the darkness, Snape knew who his visitor was. "Voldemort," he growled, keeping his voice emotionless.
"Ah Snape," Voldemort said quietly, his voice travelling easily to Snape. "I wondered if I would be meeting you tonight."
"It will no doubt be a short meeting," Snape replied, calmly. He had imagined this moment for years. He always thought he would be terrified. But now, as Voldemort stood alone, Snape saw that he was just a man, with strengths and weaknesses, just like anybody else. And he was good at preying on weakness. A glimmer of hope sprang into his heart.
Voldemort chuckled softly. "Yes, I imagine it will."
"Where's Harry?"
"I have no idea. I haven't yet found him. But I will, you can be sure of that. And he will die, just like you."
"Why?" Snape asked grimly, sneering at Voldemort. He got no reply. "Why bother killing everyone? What exactly are you after? Extermination of the planet? World domination? What's the point? You want to rule a world where everyone hates you so much it hurts?"
"I feed off their hatred."
"Not like this you won't. The people, wizards, presumably, I can't picture you letting muggles survive, they will hate you without passion. It's a driving hatred, a painful, soul-destroying hatred. You can never feed off that."
"You underestimate me, Severus. You can never understand."
"Why? Because I deserted? And why did I do that? I'll tell you why. Because none of it made any sense. You told your followers anything and they lapped it up like milk. It's all lies, Voldemort. Lies. Lies from nothing more than a jumped up egotistical schoolboy. You make me sick. You can never win, Riddle. You never could. It doesn't mater who you kill or how many you destroy; there will always be more. And we will always hate you. You think you are invincible, you think you are special.
"But you aren't. You are playing childish games with a twig as your sword. You have no honour, no courage, and no passion. You just kill, like a machine, and you think it gives you power. You were always foolish. You haven't changed a bit. You think that because you were good at magic, because you liked showing off, that you have the right to destroy everything? You don't deserve that right. You don't know what you're doing; this is just a joke to you. What sort of genius would wander around alone in the middle of a battlefield? When everyone is out to get you?"
"You are also alone," Voldemort replied silkily, yet with a fragile undertone to his voice. "What kind of genius are you?"
"I never claimed to be a genius. Or the rightful ruler of this planet. You have no right to compare me to you!" Snape roared, suddenly furious. "You are nothing next to me! I am loyal, and honest, I have morals! I am here to protect my home and my world; I am here to ensure a future of sorts for everyone! For the muggles and the squibs and the mudbloods! Why can't you understand? You speak of power, yet you have none! You are just a man, a normal, everyday man, barely any different to a muggle!
"So you can wave a stick around and call out words but that doesn't mean that you are any better than anyone else is! Riddle, I think it's time you grew up!"
"Ah, Severus, Severus," Voldemort sighed, his voice thick with compressed rage. "You are all talk, you always have been. How can you stand here and call me a boy? I have seen things you will never see, I have done things you will never do, I have been to places you have never even heard of. This talk is futile, Severus, let us end this."
"That's right, Riddle, you coward. Just fight and run, is that how you get out of realising the truth? If we must fight then we must fight; this mad crusade of yours ends here!"
"How naïve, Severus. You presume I am weak, you presume I am a coward. Would a coward do what I have done?" Voldemort was shaking with rage, his voice barred and stuttering. "Would a coward kill everyone that I have killed? Would a coward go against his teachers and his family?"
"Yes!" Snape replied. "You do this because of your cowardice! You can never see things through! You kill to avoid the problems of life. And then you run. You spent years hiding like a fugitive, and now you think you have a chance? Kill me then, Riddle, kill me and run like the coward you are. Will that make you feel better? Will it make you feel powerful? Then go ahead."
Snape lowered his gaze. The sense of grim anticipation was almost tangible.
"I-" Voldemort stuttered. "I will kill you, Severus. Not because of cowardice."
"Then do the brave thing."
"For what? I have no hope of redemption. There's no point."
"Then hide again. Go back to Albania. You've done it before."
"It's not that easy. You said it yourself, I can't keep running. It would make me more of a coward. No, It has gone too far. I can't stop, Severus. It is all that keeps me alive. I would be destroyed if I turned my back."
"It's understandable."
"Perhaps. However it is too late for any changes to be made. So, this conversation will come to an end. And, Severus, you can at least die knowing that you were brave."
Snape hung his head. He had blown any chance he had. It was the end. And to go with such a man as your only witness just like so many others. Like James Potter He sighed. "So be it, Riddle. But you won't win. You can never win." He didn't know if he believed what he was saying. Could they really beat such a cold, evil man? Probably not. He could repel attempts on his life through sheer will power.
He heard Voldemort shift his position.
So it really was hopeless, he realised at last. It didn't matter what you said and what you did because you would end up dead. How could anyone hope to defeat this man who killed his own family, this man who kills without knowing why. It was futile. Everyone was doomed, they would fail, Voldemort would win, he would rule. He raised his wand. He wasn't going to go without a fight. A short fight, maybe. Their only hope was Harry Potter, strange as it seemed. Good luck to him, Snape thought bitterly. But he would, ultimately, wind up dead.
He felt drained, lost, and alone. He was confused and frightened, but an inner calm was flowing through him. Why fight? He heard something inside him say. Why bother?
He closed his eyes and waited for the end.
"Avada Kedavra!"