I do not own Harry Potter. That would be JK. I merely am a person who cannot stop the "what if"s when she reads and before I know it my notes are stories. I am sorry about grammar. I am a English Literature Major, not a English Language major.

Severus Snape sat in the cold dark dungeons of Hogwarts. He was in the process of nursing a bottle of Firewhisky. He was trapped, in more ways than one. First he was trapped by the mark on his arm. Then there were the expectations of Dumbledore, and Dumbledore's faith in him. No one ever had faith in him. Not to mention everybody, besides a few select members of the Order of Phoenix, all thought him to be a bloody spy for Voldermort. Like wise those who followed the Dark Lord, believed he was Dumbledore's spy. Even now he was trapped. He had to teach a certain way. He could not teach the way he wanted or the post he wanted. Doing that would upset the delicate act he was playing. Yes Severus Snape was trapped.

"Professor?" A voice came from the door. "Professor?"

"Yes." Snape sneered, as he turned to look at the girl. Of course, it would her who would have the gall to disturb the peace. Hermione Granger. Muggelborn. Gryffindor. Insufferable-know-it-all. "Miss Granger, what do you want?" Snape emphasized each word, taking breaths in between them.

"It's time for class, and well, we are going to have class right?" Hermione Granger eyed his half empty bottle of Firewhisky.

"Yes. Miss Granger. Class will be held. Seeing as you are not in you seat, you are tardy. Ten points." Snape sneered at her. "From Gryffindor."

Hermione opened her mouth that shut it, knowing it was pointless to argue. Once more her eye fell on the bottle. She shifted her feet and opened her mouth once more. "Professor, are you sure you should teach? I mean are you able to teach? You said so yourself that you need to be very careful when casting these defenses spells and I am not sure if spell casting and alcohol mix."

"Miss Granger, are you telling me that you think that I am too drunk to teach." Snape sneered.

"No, sir. Just asking if you think you are too drunk to teach, and if you want me to fetch a professor to stand in." Hermione ventured.

"Go. Back. To. Your. Seat." Snape growled. Hermione fled the room, existing the Potion Master's office.

She was right, Severus thought. He was to drunk to teach. Minerva had a free period this hour. He rose from his seat and floo-ed the Transfigurations Professor. He informed her that he was unwell and he need her to watch he class today and find someone to fill in the other classes. He gave her precise instructions then ended the floo. He returned to he Firewhisky and his charmed stone. The stone was charmed to play music the fit his mode. Right now it emitted soft lingering tones, sad ones. Severus Snape was trapped, and he wanted nothing more than to get out.

It was the Golden Trio's sixth year. He made a vow. He became the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He killed Dumbledore. He found Harry knew of his half-blood heritage. He left Hogwarts. He was a dead man. He was still trapped.

Severus Snape sat in his room. The cottage had belonged to Dumbledore a sort of hide away that no one knew about. Dumbledore. Snape had been given use of it. Severus closed his eyes, and recalled exactly when Dumbledore told him about this place.

Albus Dumbledore stood in all of his glory, before him, his blackened hand standing out against his white beard as he stroked it. As always Dumbledore offered him a lemon dropt, and as always Severus accepted it was their tradition. Next, Dumbledore would sit at the desk and make notes on his information then suggest that he take a warm bath and enjoy a cup of hot chocolate, the Dumbledore would rise and look out the widow, say a cheap line, and the tradition would be over. Dumbledore did not suggest a hot bath or hot chocolate, he did not say a cheap line or look out the widow. Instead Dumbledore rose and stood before Snape. Dumbledore kneeled down so that he was at eye level.

"Severus, my boy." Dumbledore began. "I am afraid I must ask you to do something incredibly difficult."

"What is it, Headmaster?" Severus sighed. He knew what was coming. He knew that Dumbledore could no longer afford to protect him.

"I am afraid I must ask you to kill me."

Severus rose from his chair, fire blazing in his eyes. "You want me to what."

"Severus, I am old. I am tired. I am already dying. I feel I have done all I can do. Voldermort doubts your abilities. The Order needs a spy more than an old man who loves lemon drops and sentimental quotes."

"And socks." Severus offered, thing of all of the multicolored socks in the bottom of his drawer.

Dumbledore laughed. "Yes. And socks. My time has come Severus. I will die in this battle. I'd rather it be by a friend, than and enemy. I can trust to give me a painless ticket out of this mortal world." Dumbledore paused and spoke gravely, "You must kill me in front of Harry Potter."

"In front of the boy?"

"Of course Severus. In order to fool ones enemies, one must first fool ones friends." Dumbledore quoted sagely.

"And how will I contact the order?" Severus Snape asked.

"I shall send you an owl, after my death. Oh, and do try not scare my owl. It wouldn't do you any good to frighten her away." Dumbledore moved to the window. There conversation as drawing to a close. "You can stay at my cottage. I shall give you instructions on how to get there. It's a nice cottage."

"I will not be needed an owl, or the cottage, because I am not going to kill you."

"Yes, Severus, you will." Dumbledore stated. He turned to face the boy. "I should have expelled Mr. Black, after that prank. I should have not let Hagrid be blamed for a crime I knew he did not comment. I should have told Harry everything from the start. I should have pulled Harry from the Tri-wizard Tournament. I am getting old and careless. No my boy. My journey is done. I can do little more for this world. "

"I am still not going to kill you." Severus stated. He could not kill this man. This one man who always believed in him no matter what. The man who had faith the he had changed and had denounced the ways of a death eater. This man who was practically a father to him.

"Thank you." Albus Dumbledore smiled, as he griped Severus shoulder. "It means a lot to me that you think of me was a father, even if you only think it and never say it. That, my son, is exactly why you will kill me in front of Harry. You care too much to see an old man like me suffer, or know that a suffered a painful death. You will give a quick one, a death that shall restore faith with your death eater friends, and maintain your ability to spy. Perhaps, in doing so you shall save another life. The life of a young boy before he ventures to far down the path you chose."

"I shall do this under one condition." Severus spoke. He knows about Mr. Malfoy and the vow, he thought. "I want a way to come and pay my respects at the burial."

Albus patted his Potions Master on the back. "Very well. I shall have a friend of mine charm a stone that so long as you ware it, it will hide you from the eyes of others. Even the magical eye of a dear friend of ours."

"Thank you." Severus watched as Albus Dumbledore stood at the window and looked at the grounds of his school. "For now, why don't you take a nice hot bath, and sip of that lovely hot chocolate."

"Yes." Severus smiled, it was a rare that he smiled, but circumstances deemed it.

"A single death is a tragedy; a million deaths is a statistic." Dumbledore stated. "My death will be a tragedy. Yours would have caused many deaths that will in later years become statistic that pure-blood students read about after the war." Dumbledore stopped talking.

Severus came to stand beside him. "You are no seer, how do you know my living will save lives?"

"I know you Severus. You would never let a innocent die if you could help it." He patted Severus on the back and nudged him towards the door. "A single death is a tragedy; a million deaths is a statistic. Remember that Severus. Let's try to keep the statistic from growing." Dumbledore fell silent. Severus left the warm office. He felt something in his pockets. A bag of lemon drops. Severus smiled, the final part of their tradition, a tradition that was over, and would never occur again for as long as Severus lived.

Severus sighed and looked at the bag of lemon drops sitting on the counter. They and a never-ending charm on them, he would always have them. He still felt trapped. Dumbledore's owl never came, there for the Order still wanted him dead. The Dark Lord trusted him once more, as did all of the death eaters. To them he was a hero. Now he was trapped by his own guilt. No matter how much his mind argued his heart was still heavy with his murdering of Dumbledore, his father. Perhaps the owl, if she ever came, would bring with her his freedom.

He sat in the clearing gathering Potion ingredients. They were for the Wolfsbane potion. Just in case, when suddenly, Miss Hermione Granger appeared out of thin air. Unconscious and alone. How had she found him? Suddenly, Severus realized what had happened. His owl had arrived. He smirked; he should have scene this a mile away. He found half a sock in Miss Granger's hand. As soon as he touched it, it became a piece of parchment. A letter from Dumbledore that read:

Severus,

By now you have found my owl no doubt. Please do not scare her away. She is the one who carry your information to and from the order. Also she can stay and help you with your potion for our dearly beloved werewolf. Severus, with in her lies the freedom you desire. But, as with all things in life, you must work and search for it. Stay safe, and remember, I am never gone, so long as there are people who are loyal to me.

Albus Dumbledore

Former Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

"Well Miss Granger. It seems that I am not quite able to rid my self of you yet. Snape sneered. "At least it is not Longbottom, or Potter." He grinned and waited for her to wake. Oh, yes. Things were definitely about to change.

AN: THE END! Not really, this is only the beginning. A longer story is on it way. One the follows where this left off, but this was important enough and Snape centric enough to stand on it own I think. The quote Dumbledore said. "A single death is a tragedy; a million death is a statistic" is a quote by Joseph Stalin (1879-1953). It was take from