So, here I am. Is this how you have pictured it?

I must say, the last part is not how I have planned it. But then again, with you, it will normally not go as planned. You are the only person who has escaped my scheme.

But still, you have played your part well.

I knew from the first moment I saw you, that you would be very useful. Your eyes had the same shimmer as them and I knew about your disgusting fascinations. You wanted recognition, you craved for power, yet I also saw hesitation and fear. You were damaged, your past had forever changed you, but you were still trying to alter yourself. I knew you couldn't submit yourself entirely to Tom. A part of you would never accept him. That was the reason why I had released you, giving you a free ticket to that path.

I treated you in an ignoring and a dreadful manner. You only needed a little push, a small coerce, and I was more than happy to do that. After all, I needed you to become a Death Eater. I almost smiled when I saw you after you had been branded.

After you graduated, you had vanished, but I was keeping an eye on you. Aurors were shadowing you, a spy was reporting to me every week, and I would occasionally venture outside to gather information about you. Most information that I had found were false, but some were true and they each astonished me. I was very surprised when you had become a part of his Inner Circle, his most trusted and gifted followers. I had never thought that you would be talented and capable enough to accomplish that in a few years. Most Death Eaters didn't even had the privilege to see their leader, but you saw him when you were a boy, a teenager.

I underestimated you.

You became a very important individual to me. A missing and crucial part that would help me. But patience was needed until you would open your blinded eyes and pledged your allegiance to me.

So I waited.

Your Death Eater's activities would become too dreadful, your conscience would be too strong to ignore, your body would turn against you and your distressed mind would haunt you.

And then, after years, you returned. You had no safe haven, so you came to me. You were weak, emotional, and broken. You fell down on your knees and begged, muttered, shouted, cried. You did everything to redeem yourself.

For a split second, I wanted to reject you and hand you over to the Ministry, where you would be sentenced to Azkaban. That would not be enough, you deserved a greater punishment. A Dementor's Kiss would be too generous, maybe a permanent stay in Nurmengard?

But my spy had been exposed and killed in cold blood. Another reason was added to your irreplaceable position, and I quickly repressed my thoughts.

I accepted you and gave you a place to hide. Hogwarts became your second home.

I hid my deepest feelings and thoughts, and became your colleague and teacher. You accepted my roles, albeit with some time and effort. Slowly, you began to change. You lowered your multiple guards, you began to expose yourself, and you slowly felt at ease with me. You became dependant on me.

But we had both worn a façade.

You had always been a skilled Occlumens. My constant prodding didn't result in a mental breach, so your deepest part was still hidden for me. At some point, I volunteered to teach and guide you, but that was one of the few times that you refused my offerings.

No matter, I had other ways to persuade you. Every time you drank my tea, your defences weakened. You consumed a subtle poison, not harmful to the body, but lethal to the mind. The dosage was small, so a few weeks, or even months, were needed. But you were stronger and keener than I thought: after many years, your mental barriers were still standing.

You had noticed it, that was the only logical reason for your strong defences. The chance was very small that it would succeed, anyway. You were too observant, suspicious and sly.

So now, when I gaze at you, your most inner thoughts remain a complete mystery to me.

I want to know what you are thinking, what feelings you are sensing, which emotions are floating in your mind, now I have your undivided attention.

I want to know everything. But I cannot heed that train of thoughts. I refuse to obey them.

I have dreamed about this, do you know that?

It was only once, but it had occurred. I thought, at that time, that it wouldn't become reality. But here you are, just as I have pictured it.

This is not part of your plan, that I know. You always organise everything, from small, subtle things, to large, time-consuming events. The present is the result of a carefully executed plan. Every factor, act and action are included, except one.

You are so focused on the large scheme, that you have forgotten that a small, insignificant detail can ruin your perfect plan.

And so, I have played my part very well.

The Dark Arts had always fascinated me. It was a very useful tool to me. I could obtain something that would help and guard me. I was defenceless when I was a child. I couldn't protect the one person I had loved most dearly, and I was too weak to defend myself.

I should thank the man who had raised me. He was my first reason that I had turned my attention to the Dark Arts. The second reason was the seven, dreadful years of confinement in Hogwarts. My fascination had grown and it almost became an obsession to me.

It reached a new point in my fifth year.

After the attempted murder, I was hoping that you would see the seriousness and graveness of my situation. I was hoping that you would help me, that you would believe and support me. But you turned a blind eye to them. You favoured your precious Gryffindors and you showed your clear disdain for the Slytherins. You even punished me, the victim, and forced me to keep that event a secret, while you rewarded them, the culprits, with a few detentions and a half-hearted lecture. Once again, the world had showed me its cruelty and unfairness. I had made up my mind at that moment.

Only a few weeks later, I had received my first and last mark on my body.

After I had graduated, I was happy. I would never see you, your hypocritical talk and false gentleness again. I was free from your grasp, but my future was blurred. I had no certainty, and began to regret my impulsive decisions. I was released from your tight grip, but was forced in another prison.

But it turned out that you were still tormenting me. I saw the foolish Aurors, trying to follow my movements. They were too mindless and idiotic. They didn't even notice that they were shadowing a phony. Really, were they supposed to be the guardians, the protectors of our world?

Your spy was intelligent, but not smart enough to outwit me. I knew, almost from the start, that he was a spy working under your orders. He was too blunt. I could see him staring at me sometimes or following me when we had the same mission. I was expecting a difficult challenge. He should be very clever and capable if you had chosen him, but he was easily defeated.

Did you know that I was the one who had betrayed him, lured him to Death?

I was disappointed. Your methods to shadow me were laughable. If I didn't know better, I would say that you weren't even trying to follow me.

Of course, you would seek information about me. But as a Death Eater, one should be very careful. My private life was carefully hidden, and I was constantly releasing false facts and destroying sensitive details.

Being a Death Eater had consequences. I witnessed terrible things, and I had done terrifying things to innocent people. My conscience was constant reminding me that I should stop, that I was doing the wrong thing, that this was not what I wanted. My body was weakening and showing physical discomfort. Most things I ate, would come out a moment later. My dreams changed into nightmares. The thoughts were the worst. They were haunting me every second.

I was deteriorating, and I knew I must stop. It was an impossible choice, and both paths were equally unacceptable. But, at that time, my mind was only focused on escaping: searching for a way to leave the Dark Lord, to change my decisions, to forget the past, to do everything anew.

It was an unachievable aim, but I tried it nonetheless. I abandoned everything, and was left behind with nothing. No place to go, no place to hide, no one to ask for their aid. No one except you.

This was what I had dreaded, but I had no choice. So I ran to you, and showed you my most vulnerable and shameful part. I hated myself for that, but another part shouted to me that you were my last chance to redeem myself.

I was half-expecting that you would leave me and throw me to the Aurors, but you didn't. That, in itself, was a strange notion of you. You accepted me, you believed me, you gave me a second chance.

Who are you fooling?

I saw right through your acts. Your innocent chatter, your probing, your so-called attempts to understand me. I understood what you attempted to do, so I played my part. I opened myself, I talked, I gave you some unimportant details about my private life.

My suspicions were confirmed when you offered to teach me Occlumency. I was both shocked and surprised. I knew that I had a natural talent for Occlumency. In my teenage years, I sought information and began to practise. After my graduation, my abilities had improved, but it was still not advanced enough. It was the Dark Lord who had taught me the finer details and advanced techniques. He only stopped when he couldn't penetrate my mind any more without his wand, an intense concentration and time, possibly minutes. I could practise this subtle art with precision and had no need for a second teacher.

Now, I am using it against the Dark Lord. And you.

You tried other methods, but none worked on me. I admit that the tea was a clever idea: that was the only time that I almost baited your trap. I could suppress my shock and didn't show any outward signs when I inhaled an unknown, lethal scent, but my mind was rapidly thinking of a solution to avoid the poisoned liquid. The first time, I pretended to drink. Luckily, you didn't notice it.

I quickly memorized the ingredients in your tea, but it was a challenge to analyse them. You had certainly brewed a subtle, but difficult potion. Most of the time, I could name a potion after one glance or a sniff, but I needed several days before I had narrowed the possibilities to two, almost identical potions.

I brewed the antidotes, but I needed to change the process thrice before I became immune to the effects of your potion, your deadly poison.

And now, you still remain oblivious to my thoughts.

You probably don't know this, but I try. I try very hard to change my most inner, secret thoughts. But every time, a memory or thought will intercept it.

This was a consequence when someone had lived many years and had seen almost everything. I had made numerous mistakes, most of them when I was young, foolish and ignorant.

I had learned from my faults, and tried to do anything to make others aware of the dangers they could face. Wizards came to me for advice or help, and I did my best to aid them.

But you, who desperately needed my assistance and support, I could not help. A small part of me was still seeing you as your younger self: impatient, selfish, hungry for control and power and quickly persuaded to the Dark path. I saw you as a Death Eater, a person who took pleasure in harming other human beings, who followed and obeyed their psychotic and unbalanced leader, who needed a second identity to function and survive.

Another, stronger part was frightened. I was afraid that you would eventually choose the wrong direction. You had, and still have great potential, but your thoughts and the external influences were causing you to pick the incorrect path. I didn't think I could help you. I would worsen your obsessions and give you another reason to continue your corrupt path. I had tried it twice in the past, and both had ended in tragedy.

In some way, you became the sole victim of my anxieties and insecurities. I saw in you the wizards I couldn't save. I saw in you someone who would become a dangerous threat to the Wizarding and Muggle world. I saw in you someone who could harm and destroy me.

I saw in you someone who could not be saved.

Yet, I tried to get involved in your life. But every time I gazed at you, I saw the shadows of your two predecessors. Every time I looked in your black eyes, I saw the dark colours and glints of two different pairs of eyes. When you spoke to me for the very first time, I heard more voices than one.

The first idea was unsuccessful.

I tried a different approach, in hope that you wouldn't become the third person. I kept my distance and even acted hostile and cold toward you. This was very difficult for me, but after a few years, I had succeeded. In your fifth year, I had become the indifferent, impersonal and reserved Headmaster.

I had never lost that, even years after you had returned to me.

Sometimes, I see in your eyes that you want to reach out to me and I see in your body language that you want to say sensitive and private things. I hear your thoughts. You are not sending them to me, but I can sense them, in some unusual way.

I want to reach out to you, to listen to your problems, inquiries and stories. I want to take away your pains. But every time I overlook them, change the subject or neglect them. I shut my door when you shakily open yours, I avoid your hand when you stretch out and I run away when you try to follow me.

What you are doing is not real, it's a false appearance, a deceitful show. I must be seeing an illusion, a fragment of my fantasies, dreams that need to come true, but can never become reality.

What I don't believe, cannot exist.

Maybe this is my mind's solution to punish and protect myself.

Happiness and prosperity will not come to me. I don't earn it, not any more. My life will end in misfortune and tragedy. And you will help me with that.

You will raise your eyebrows when you know what I think about sometimes.

I hated you. You chose them, the guilty, lying ones. The feelings would never be forgotten, even if I wanted it: the confusion, the anger, the pain. The betrayal.

I had faith in you, but you disappointed me. You hurt me.

You were the one who had changed me. Twice. You had dropped me in the abyss, and years later, you had guided me back to the earth.

I had hoped that you would act differently, but you were still the same: uncaring, cold, distant.

Nonetheless, I was trying to approach you, hoping you would change your behaviour.

Sometimes, I want to reach out to you and talk about my reserved, intimate thoughts and feelings. In some occasions, I have the feeling that my mind is unconsciously communicating with you.

But that must be a delusion; you never respond.

Why are you rejecting and ignoring me?

You know that this is very hard for me, to truly open myself and I know that a chance exist that you will shun me. I try it, nonetheless. Even if that chance is small and almost non-existent, I will try. But I will not consume your tea. I will not use your bizarre method to accomplish it.

Why are you trying to poison me?

You are making me too confused. Every time I see you, I don't know whether your acts are real, whether your behaviour is harming me, whether your presence is killing me.

Do you know what you are doing to me?

You are changing me again. You are slowly erasing me. I am trying very hard to focus on the present and forget my past, but I am changing back to my younger, familiar self.

You are forcing me to change. You will be the cause of your own demise.

You will be the cause of our demise.

An enemy, that is who you are.

How many times I have said this, I do not know.

An enemy.

Yes, you are my enemy. You are the villain.

This has become the truth for me, after I have repeated it countlessly.

Since my last failure, I have turned my back on thatsubject. I will only focus on the opposite and I will do anything to accomplish it. Every sacrifice is possible, as long as I can succeed my task, my remaining reason to live.

You are also a sacrifice, a pawn that I will use without hesitation. But, before Death embraces one of us, your thoughts – their thoughts – must be heard.

Now you know why I am giving you poison so carelessly, why I am constantly investigating, why I am trying to know everything about you. I need to hear your thoughts, your most intimate thoughts, your irrational thoughts.

I must hear the familiar words, a clear confirmation for your true nature.

But you remain silent.

That is not a problem, as long as you play your role, you can hide whatever you want, and I can hide what I want.

You can think whatever you want, and I can think what I want.

You should be my opponent. You must be my opponent.

I have said this to myself too many times already, but it's working.

You are my enemy.

I know that you are using me. You probably see me as a tool against the Dark Lord. You will use me to defeat him, you will sacrifice me to defeat him. You think that I will obey your silent command. But, as always, I am hesitating.

Time is of the essence. I need to know your answers and true thoughts before Thanatos floats down and guides one of us to the final station.

This will be my last opportunity to scrutinize and question you. I cannot fail now, not like the many times in my past.

I will not fail...

I stare at you, hoping to find a clear answer in your eyes.

"Why?"

He ignores my voice. I point my wand to him. I want to break our connection, to remain silent and forget my questions, to execute his order – no, the Dark Lord's and hisorders – but I need to know.

"Why?"

He is concentrating on an unknown point just above my shoulder.

"Answer me."

I see a small smile on his face while he glides down and sits on the ground with a soft grunt.

"You are going to ignore me again?"

No response.

"Even now, when you are about to die?"

He closes his eyes. My right hand shakes. I feel many emotions now, but somehow, my mind is able to change everything to one emotion.

"Look at me!"

He slowly opens his eyes and gazes at my face, but he is still avoiding my eyes.

"Why are you not answering me?"

His smile is very noticeable now while his eyes find mine.

"I have nothing to tell you."

His voice rings very clearly in my mind.

I am shocked. Shocked and surprised. A part of me expects you to react in this familiar way, but another, small and almost unnoticeable part is, once again, rendered speechless.

I see a glint in his eyes, a glint he only uses for an antagonist.

So, he sees me as his enemy now? Good, because I must see him as my enemy. It makes everything simple. No contradicting feelings, thoughts and objects, just one clear goal: defeat the opponent.

He is staring intently at me, trying to intercept my thoughts, but he will fail.

We will both fail.

"Why?"

He ignores me while his smile falls.

"Finish your task."

He is using that tactic again, but I will not obey him this time.

"No."

His eyes glances down to my wand.

"We both know how this will end."

He locks his eyes with mine again.

"Finish your task, Severus."

He attempts to sever our connection, but I am stronger. I will not release it until I am satisfied. He tenses his body when he notices that the invisible bond is still intact.

He has always underestimated me. He understands nothing of me. He has known me for many years now, but I am still a stranger to him, and he remains a total stranger to me.

Is this how we will say good bye, not as acquaintances, or even friends – for I have seen you as a friend sometimes – but as cold strangers?

I hear movements behind me. My fellow colleagues are growing impatient. As always, time refuses to be my comrade.

"Severus."

His familiar orbs are examining my eyes, while he shifts his injured and fatigued body again.

"Finish it."

All this time, I have been staring at his face and eyes, but now I avoid them. I lower my trembling hand a little, shut my eyes and take deep breaths to calm myself.

I must finish this.

But somehow, my mind and body will not obey.

I need your answers!

I hear a soft laugh and open my eyes. He is looking at me with a strange expression – an expression I've never seen before. His eyes have a foreign glint and his mouth is curled.

I widen my eyes when I realise what it can mean. He can't be... content, satisfied or even happy?

Why is he not sad, distressed, angry... appalled and disgusted?

And why, why is he refusing to talk?

Even when he is about to take his last breath, he still manages to be unclear, cryptic, cold and distant.

So be it.

I don't need to know. I have waited too long already, and I know that he will not give me what I want on his last day. He will crush his last chance to reveal the answers to an outsider, especially to someone like myself. They will remain a complete secret, and he will be the only one to know everything.

I have suspected it, but can't stop the subtle pain in my body and the disappointed thoughts in my mind.

It doesn't matter now, this will all be the past in a few moments. And the past is something I will forget, when given enough time, space and evaluation.

I push every feeling and thought away and concentrate on my right hand. I take a step forward, raise my wand to his chest and inhale deeply.

The spell is formed in my head, and I open my mouth to whisper it, but his voice halts me.

"Good bye, Severus..."

His body is tensed, his eyes still have the unfamiliar glint, his voice has an unknown edge, but his expression is neutral and he emits a mysterious, yet strangely familiar air. I swallow loudly and ignore a well-known feeling and the emotional, passionate voice.

"Good bye..."

I purposefully omit the familiar, but alien word and force my mouth to say the spell.

The bright, green light hits him with such a force, that his body tumbles down over the edge, effectively disappearing from sight, but his eyes, once blue, but now having a much darker tint, lock their gazes with my black ones, and I receive his final message before gravity pulls his body to the deep earth.

"Good bye, Severus... for now. I will await you, and them... in Hell."

Another one-shot!

This one is different from my other fics and it was quite a challenge to write them.

I want to point out that this is not exactly how I picture them, and probably never will, as some of you already know. I understand that some people believe that Dumbledore has used Snape for the "greater good", or that Snape was using Dumbledore for his own reasons, but I generally have difficulty accepting a theory that includes an "evil" Dumbledore or Snape. Some of you already know this, but I've always seen them having a deep, powerful and loving relationship (intimate friends, mentor/student or even father/son kind of bond) that, unfortunately, can only end in sadness and pain (well, generally speaking).

This fic is written to challenge myself, to experiment with the changing tenses and perspectives, and to see whether I can portray them in an opposite light. It's strange, but I did enjoy writing them in this way, and the first-person perspective and the present tense work great! Although, I still find it difficult...

Maybe... somewhere in the future, I'll write another fic about this particular side of their relationship. But for now, I focus on the other spectrum!

And... in this story, I've slightly hinted something that I will use, and examine further, in one of my projects. I give you many kudos if you can manage to spot it!

Also, if it's not too much trouble, review or comment, please?