A chill seeped through his heavy cloak as he soared past the dementors, never once looking back at the glistening castle behind him. He always knew the time would come, but no amount of preparation could've prepared him for all that had happened that evening, let alone what had yet to occur.

Grinding his teeth, Severus soared through the clouds, struggling to distance himself further from the dark creatures below, clearing his mind. Once upon a time, he would've been laughing as he floated amongst the clouds, glancing down at the pitch with a smirk as—

The howls of werewolves broke his reverie as beads of cold sweat soaked his high collar. No, no time for wandering. His task was not done, he needed to think, to plot while he still had time...time, but time to do what? How much longer could he remain hidden? How much longer could he wait? How much longer would he have to keep up this charade?

Not for the first time that year, Severus wished bitterly that Dumbledore was still around and Potter wasn't the hotheaded, self-sacrificing imbecile that he was. He knew what he had to do, but how could he possibly do it in time with the whole of the Order and the school wishing to curse him to the next world?

He dimly heard the Dark Lord make his offer to the castle and grimaced, descending silently onto the abandoned quidditch pitch. No one would disturb him for the moment. He had to think.

The Order and the students would undoubtedly hold, but he knew that even if he defected now and somehow was miraculously welcomed back with open arms by Minerva and the rest of the Order, the odds of them being able to defeat each and every dark creature, Ministry member, death eater, and the Dark Lord himself was slim and too risky. Severus Snape may be a double agent, but he was still a Slytherin through and through. Slytherins were not selfless heroes, unlike Gryffindors; Slytherins always made sure the odds were in their favours, or as close to that as possible before making a risky move.

He leaned against a goal post, brows creased in thought as he assessed the situation. Leave it to Minerva and her noble ways to oust him before he could find Potter. It was going to be difficult to find the boy now and he'd be damned if he didn't manage to get the boy to understand just what had to happen. Severus drew his cloak tighter around his thin frame, scowl deepening as his insides twisted unpleasantly at the thought his final task. Boy...he was just a boy. A boy for the slaughter to be offered to the very enemy Severus had spent over seventeen years protecting him from.

Briefly, he wished again he were dead, but the thought was quickly squashed. He deserved this. He deserved every bit of suffering he had undergone during the past two decades and more. But what of the boy? What of Harry Potter? Lily's son?

"Severus." Cold, dark eyes snapped back into focus as Lucius emerged from the shadows.

"Where?" His voice was steady, his expression impassive once more as he straightened away from the post. There was no need for legilimency to know that the Dark Lord wished to see him. Damn.

"The Shrieking Shack." With a cool nod of acknowledgment, Severus turned away and walked towards the forest.

As he walked, he cast his thoughts once more to Harry Potter and felt an odd calm wash over him as a plan came to mind. Perhaps...perhaps it might be possible to convince the Dark Lord to let him fetch the boy.