Disclaimer- Let's nix the witty dialogue, shall we? The callous powers of the universe have sided against me and I own nothing.

It's rather ironic, if you think about it. Not the clever, we never would have guessed it, 'your neglected friend is your secret admirer' kind of ironic, either. The kind of how could we have not known, it was there all along, 'your ally is an imposter' kind of ironic that kills. It kills you because you had this gut instinct that something was wrong but you didn't act on it.

It's like when you're taking a test and you come upon a multiple choice question that you don't know the answer to. You eliminate A and C and are left with two that seem equally probable. In the interest of time, B is scrawled down without over-analyzation, accompanied by a thought like, "I'll go back to it when I finish the test." Then you go back to it and try and pull out every detail you can remember. For some obscure reason you change your mind and erase your original answer because all of this mediocre logic is pointing towards D. In your haste, you peer at Johnny Smartypants' paper and he's got D as well. Then you get your test back and imagine that, you've got a 98 and the only question you missed was number thirteen and an obnoxiously bright red pen has circled the letter B. Your grade is recorded and there's no going back. "I knew the answer all along!" is a failure of an excuse.

And your grade is final. His death is final. There's no chance in hell that you can bring him back and you hate yourself for it. Hardly do you look in the mirror any more, because you don't deserve to live when men like Dumbledore are dying. Mentors like Dumbledore are being killed off because of one man's inferiority complex. But, you should have learned that you've always got to be careful of the quiet ones. He was always the quiet one.

Always the one to be made fun of, he never had any real friends. As a boy, he was ridiculed from the start and lashed out with harsh words, biting insults. He was one of those people who always seems to be with someone but never seems to fit in. You'd see him walking around with other dark children, but you never saw him be friendly with him. You know, when you see two people walking down the hallway together you can just tell if their friends. There's a difference between walking to the same place at the same time and walking somewhere together. He was always at the parties but he was never in the pictures. Seldom was he alone but never was he included in the memories and no one was ever privy to his thoughts. No one was. He was always the one with a hidden agenda.

You saw him once, in his pensieve. You saw him at your tree by the lake. That tree symbolized good things for you. It was a beacon of simplicity in the crazy mess the wizarding world has regressed into. You laid back on it with your friends to relax and so had your father before you. You saw him there and it altered your view of the tree completely. It was winter and he had slunk out of the castle alone. His face was pale and disconnected as he sat down and closed his eyes. He cradled his gaunt face in his hands as he muttered incoherently to himself. As he wrenched his hands away from his face and looked up at the stars his body was racked with shudders. You couldn't really tell if it was because of the bitter frost in the air or if it was from...emotions. He gave the sky a desperate, 'why me?' kind of look and threw the jacket in his hands to the ground. At first, you had no idea what the freezing bastard was thinking. You were shocked beyond words when he began to weep. Never before had you seen someone cry that way. His face was contorted in pain, but he was not hugging himself. He was sitting perfectly skill as tears briefly caved their way down his cheeks. He just sat there. If you hadn't seen his features, you'd have had no idea anything was wrong. Silent as the night, he sat there, completely void of hope. He gave a violent shudder and suddenly you understood.

The cold air was killing him but he needed the chill because it made him feel alive. He needed to know he wasn't dead. He was always the withdrawn one.

And then he went from student to teacher and the circle of taunting had begun again. You knew from the moment you met him that you didn't like him. Call it gut instinct if you will. You didn't trust him. You could never really trust the quiet ones. You went on hating him because he was your Potions professor and that was it, it wasn't important at the time.

A problem you'd readdress later, if you will.

And then, your sixteen year old self had to reevaluate. You had to pick an answer.

B, Snape was bad

or

D, Snape was good.

Good is too general, really. It's not as if you had forgiven the man for his crimes toward you and Gryffindor in general. You never expected to be friends, you didn't even know if you'd ever be able to have a civil conversation, you just decided that he was on your side. Dumbledore trusted him. Albus Smartypants Dumbledore trusted him. He had more than one opportunity to end your life. It was D. It had to be D. Snape had to be on your side, because if he wasn't that meant Dumbledore could err.

But after all, "To err is human, but to forgive; divine." Dumbledore had an error in judgement. He had trusted him out of the goodness of his heart. He had seen potential in the man that wasn't there. He forgave him for his faults. He was so optimistic about people. It's always the accepting you have to be careful for.

You never really know whose side people like Severus Snape are on, but you know he's not fully on either. He never really had friends but he wasn't quite alone. He cared more about keeping himself alive than anyone else but he was never really living. You wish you would have followed your bloody instinct.

"B!" you shout at no one. "B, DAMN YOU!"

But it makes no difference. A man is dead and a world disheartened. You ignored your intuition and you got a 98.

Severus. It's pretty damned ironic if you think about us. Severus. Sever us. He was the divide between what was good and what was easy. He was the man who had severed away our leader. Our father.

He was always the one who could stab you in the back.

He was the one who taught you to follow your gut.