Written for the Disney Character (Bambi's Mom: Write about a character who's death saddened you)
"I regret it." Those words had been the last Snape heard Voldemort breath as the man swept from the room, the vile snake trailing behind him. There had been no remorse in his empty words, no sadness or true regret. It was a lie filled statement spoken by a man who could just as easily murder one of his own as rip the wings off butterflies. As Snape lay there, trying to staunch the blood flowing rapidly from his wound and the venom coursing through his veins, that's what he realized he was. Nothing more than an insect, trapped in a jar all of his life.
He barely heard the group entering into the room and the sight of those green eyes in front of him was enough to break him completely. He watched as the boy bent down slowly, his eyes, so much like Lily's had been, watched him with an emotion Snape didn't quite understand. Reaching out, he gripped Harry's shirt, pulling the boy close and holding on to him as tightly as he could. He could feel his fingers slipping, but he needed to know the boy was there. He needed to know that he was still alive, at least for now.
"Take… it…" Snape could feel himself slipping, not just his grip on Harry's shirt, but his hold onto this world. He could barely hear the terrible rasp in his voice as he spoke again. "Take… it…"
The memories flooded his mind as he pushed them out. He could see Lily's hair so clearly, hear her voice, and feel her touch. As the memories mixed into the tears flowing down his face, he didn't fight them. He embraced the pain that sprung into his struggling heart as he relieved each memory that he was offering to the boy.
When the vile was filled with his memories and pulled from his tear stained face, Snape knew there was no reason to hold on any longer. The pain was becoming too much, and he doubted his body would last much longer on the little blood that he'd been able to retain.
"Look… at… me…" Snape whispered, struggling to even speak.
He held on just a little longer though as he watched the Boy-Who-Lived. So many years he had watched over this boy. So much of his life had been dedicated to keeping this child alive. A child who would have to meet his death soon after Snape would meet his own.
It was unfair really. The boy had been nothing more than an pinned insect, unaware of the depleting oxygen and time. And Snape, Snape held himself responsible for this. He would be the one to give the boy his sentence. Those memories would mark Harry's end, and it was no better than if Snape had sealed the lid himself.
He could feel his grip slipping from the boy's shirt. The strength in Snape's body was near gone. This was the end and he knew it. Watching the green eyes before him, Snape wondered if all his work, all his watching, was really for nothing.
His fingers lost hold on Harry's shirt. Before the man's hand thudded against the ground, Severus Snape's eyes turned hallow and the last breath escaped from his cracked lips.