Hate.
It filled him, overflowing with bitterness. The only emotion that he could truly understand. The world he was born into, grew up in and lived in.
Hate.
He had never truly experienced anything else.
A father's love, corrupted by fear, hatred and abuse. A mother's love, shadowed by terror and depression. A friend's love, fickle and afraid of the true ugliness in the world.
Never mind how much he craved, pined, yearned for it, his deep- seated desire was in no way going to be fulfilled.
Hate.
It had become such a vital part of him that he didn't know how to survive without it. He coveted it, feared it, enjoyed it, resented it. It was both his savior and his damnation. It helped him survive and it would cause him his death.
He had two masters, yet neither mastered him. Not even his inner hatred.
One praised his power and his loyalty. The other his survival and information, yet he still was only conditionally loyal. One he feared and the other he respected, still neither commanded his complete devotion. Both were genius' and yet they didn't realise all they had to do was care. Care about him. Not his position, not his information, safety, ability. No, all it took was for someone to care about Severus Snape- the person, even just for a moment and no matter what they did, they would have his wholly and absolute devotion and fealty. Unto death. Forever.
