Author's Note: I don't own it. Wish I did, I could use the cash. This story is completely AU, he's not in love with Lily, yada yada yada.

To whom it may concern,

Dumbledore asked me to write the following in the hopes that it might help you understand my iron-clad reasons for doing what I have done. I had no intention of ever telling the following story to anyone, but I will do so as it is the last wish of the second person I will ever regret killing. To those of you who will scoff at this story, know that I have little enough regard for you that your opinion won't affect me in the slightest. Whatever any you think of me, I will continue to do my part to bring the Dark Lord to his knees.

Severus

The first time I laid my eyes on the necklace, I wasn't entirely sure what to think. I had been waiting for this to come by Owl for some time and it wasn't really what I had thought it would be when I'd ordered it. I wasn't sure if she would like this. Whatever the consequences, though, I had to give it to her. It had taken nearly all of my money, and I wasn't about to back down now.

Giving it a glance, I gulped down the lump in the back of my throat, wrapped it in the best packaging I could find, and headed down to the bakery where she worked.

The morning fog that had come off the river during the night had all but disappeared as I made my way down the steps outside my flat. In the humid morning sun, the white shirt and black slacks I had on were stifling. No help for it, however. Nothing else I owned was fit for me to wear when going to see her. I would just have to hope that I wasn't sweating too horribly by the time I had walked the five blocks to her store.

By all accounts, I shouldn't have wanted anything to do with her. By all accounts, the fact that she was a Muggle-born with a soft spot for the filthy beasts who spawned her should have put me off forever. But the heart never wants what it should want. Oh no, my heart took one look at the petite blonde, with flour on her nose and icing smeared across her cheek and decided that she was the best thing that could ever happen to me.

It is a silly sentiment, I know, yet I have always been that way. No one had ever known about that side of me. As I write this, I would still sooner die than admit it to you, even knowing that I most likely will die before I ever have a chance to see any of you again. Yet, that side of me is a part of the story, so it must be recorded. It's important for you to understand that one look from her brought that part of me to the surface with such intensity that I couldn't shove it back into the deep, dark cavern where it belonged.

I mused about the effects she had on me as I walked to the little shop she owned called, of all things, Pastie Paradise. Despite the fact that I had no stomach for the sweet concoctions she made there (they were a bit too heavy on the sugar and vanilla) I scraped together my meager earnings and went in twice a week to buy a scone from her. Every time, I swore that this would be the day I would finally ask her on a date. Every time, I lost my nerve. At least, not until this day.

You see, Black, it takes a certain finesse to court a lady. Unlike the trollops you courted at Hogwarts, the girls that treated as if they were worth no more than a knut and five minutes of your time, Evelyn was worth a great deal more thought and energy. Although, looking back on your record of women, that really isn't saying much, is it?

I digress. As I walked into Evelyn's shop that day, I saw her behind the counter, covered in food, as usual. I ordered my scone, made polite conversation, and turned to go before I heard something I truly didn't expect. Mrs. Figg, the deplorable old gossip, mentioned the Ball that would be held at Gringott's the following week. I heard Evelyn let out a sigh, so I turned around. She smiled wryly and said, "Well, it would be nice to go. I don't even have a date for it, though, much less the tickets."

And then it happened. I did the one thing I've never been sure whether or not I regret. I brightened up, seeing my chance, and blurted out, "Excuse me, Miss Hart, but I happen to have an extra ticket and no one to go with me. Would you do me the honor of being my escort?"

She brightened and flashed a dazzling smile at me. "I'd be delighted, Mr. Snape! Shall we discuss the time and such over dinner tonight, say around seven?"

As I left the shop a few minutes later, feeling as if I would float away, a thought made it's way to the shocked and muddled center of my brain. Where would I get the tickets?!

As you know, this wasn't just any ball. This was THE Ball. This was Gringott's very exclusive annual charity ball. Even if they'd been selling the tickets to the general public, I couldn't afford to go. The cost of one ticket alone was two month's rent. In this, as in so many other things at that point in my life, I trusted that the Dark Lord could come through for me. Failing that, I would do anything to get the tickets. As I apparated to the meeting I had scheduled that morning with Rosier, I felt a particular sort of calm settle over me. I knew, beyond a doubt, that I would get the tickets somehow and Evelyn Hart would be mine.

AN: Alright, folks. I know that some of you may be wondering about my London story (co-written with Prof Pendragon and Rosi) it's not completely abandoned... just kinda, um, put on hold. I should have updated it a long time ago, but I moved across the country and had lots of stuff going on. I decided to write this because I had a plot bunny bouncing around in my head and it wouldn't leave me alone. Besides, writing Snape is a challenge for me. At least, writing Snape in a non-crackfic way is. And yes, the chapters to follow will be longer. Read and review and I'll have them out sooner!