A/N: I have no idea what this is, just something that came to mind. Rated T for drug relevance and set in Third P.O.V. of Severus.

Disclaimer: Nothing.

Welcome, Severus, to the Death Eater Army…

The first time your Mark burned, it made you felt like you belonged. It made you happy and eager to do the Dark Lord's biding. Even when Lily objected. It's like heroin. The Mark upon your arm. Addicting and not good for you. But you don't want to wrench yourself free.

Save your breath!

You wince as you recall all of the close ones you've hurt. Lily. Oh Lily. But she doesn't understand the pull. The way the Mark draws you onward to Dark Magic. It's like heroin. Addicting and not good for you. But even though you try, you can't wrench yourself free. You need it.

The Potters, my lord, have a son. A son that'll destroy your work, you need to kill him. Before it's too late.

You grow proud of yourself. That stupid James will lose his first son. This is only payback for all of those years of harassment he had towards you, after all. Yes, as you look down upon your Mark, everything seems giddy like the first time it burned. It's like heroin. Addicting and not good for you. But right now, everything is how it should be.

No. No! Not Lily! No!

You fall on the floor next to the dead Lily Potter. This wasn't how it was supposed to go at all. He was only supposed to kill the son, and maybe the father, but only the son. The mother wasn't supposed to die at all. This wasn't supposed to be like this. You get up finally after hours of weeping and pull up your sleeve to see the Mark. You realize it's like heroin. Addicting and not good for you. And right now, it destroyed your life.

You will work as a spy, Severus, a spy for the Order.

A spy! A spy? He wants me to work as a spy? You think in revulsion. The old loon has gone mad! But then you see Lily's dead face in front of your eyes again – those green eyes glazed never seeing again - and you reply in desperation, "Anything. I'll be a spy. I owe that to her!" To Lily, you think to yourself. Even if it means I must live a two-faced life. Your eyes glance down to your Mark. It's like heroin. Addicting and not good for you. And you're never ever going back to it. Never truthfully.

GRYIFFINDOR!

The sorting hat calls the Potter boy to his house. Good, you think. At least he isn't in my house. You realize the boy looks too much of his father with the only reference of his mother being his green eyes. Those green eyes…you shiver making Minerva send you a look of concern. You ignore her and the stupid stuttering Quirrell you keeps talking to you and watch the boy. Then you feel a tug, a pull, but it is faint. You look down at your arm in alarm. Then come to the conclusion it was nothing and only a figment of imagination. The Mark burning. After all, it's like heroin. Addicting and not good for you.

The Dark Mark Severus! It's burning! He is returning! Each day it grows stronger! Severus, what shall we do?

You look at KarKarorff incredulously. What the bloody hell did he mean by "what to do"? The only thing he could do is return and obey the Dark Lord. Or run. Knowing Karkaroff, he would take the latter. The coward. He is no man. He is afraid. You on the other hand, are prepared. Prepared to deceive and not go truthfully and fully back to the Dark Arts. As he shows you his own Dark Mark, you think about how it's like heroin. Addicting and not good for you. And how some people are cowards to use it only half-heartily so they won't be killed.

You must be the one to kill me Severus.

You can't do it. It's only been two years since the Dark Lord's return and already the one who is closest to you abandons you. You can't do it. It feels like history repeats itself a broken record player. You are alone, you get taken in by someone and get close, and then they abandon you. Over and over again. So naturally you object and naturally get discouraged. After exiting Albus' office, you pull your sleeve up and see the Mark. It's like heroin. Addicting and not good for you. And it has messed up your life far beyond repair.

Avada Kedavra.

Your voice cracks as you say those two words your companion has waited to hear. The Killing Curse. You want to cry as he falls off but you fight them back and put on the usual cold expression. You watch Bellatrix dance gleefully. You want to slap her but refrain yourself. It would do no good to make any more enemies than you've already got. So you stalk the Hogwart's corridors pretending to be better than others, when you really feel small inside. You don't look at your Mark anymore. You don't want the heroin. You don't want the addiction that comes with it. All you want is to die.

While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot serve me faithfully. I regret what has to be done; you have been a faithful servant.

You know all too well what's going to happen next. You're going to die and the Dark Lord won't regret anything. He never does. He has no mercy, no regret, and no love. He calls himself a man when he's not. It takes a man to feel all those emotions. But isn't this what you've wanted a year ago? To die? You choke out, "My Lord?" before Nagini attacks you. You fall to the floor bleeding to death while Voldemort – you shall never again call him the Dark Lord – flies away. The Mark is like heroin. Addicting and not good for you, even as it burns.

Look….at….me….

As Potter looks at you, all you see are those green eyes. Those green eyes that are alive, if only in another person. But he…will save…the Wizarding World…you think. He will not…put my life…in waste. And it's true, though you somehow don't know how you know. But the strangest of things are hard to describe and explain, so you let it slide.

As you feel the gentle pull of everlasting darkness consume you, you see Lily standing behind her son. Perhaps it was real, or it was a figment of your imagination from losing too much blood, or it was just what you wanted to see. Either way, you cry in your head, Lily. Oh Lily. I'm so sorry.

I know. You see her mouth. I know.

I shouldn't have gone to the Dark Arts.

Shhh, it's alright. I forgive you. Rest now, Sev, rest…

Your last thought before dying was that of the Mark upon your arm and how it was like heroin. Addicting and not good for you. And years after taking the first dose, feeling the first burn, did it kill you.

Your whole life fell away because of it.