A/N - Just a quick one-shot. I wrote this as I try to defeat Writer's block and its also the first time I've wrote in Snape's mindset so I hope you all enjoy it
Severus Snape: Last Man Standing.
The dark lord was calling him, telling him to return to the Shrieking Shack, a place which held no good memories for him but yet a place which was so significant to his story, as the Whomping Willow came into view, memories flooded back to him, not long before, five minutes at the most since he had seen Remus Lupin struck down in battle, a slash of purple flames across his chest and he was gone, crumbling in a corridor of the only place he really belonged. Severus knew he was alone now. He thought back to his school days, when the war was talked about like something in a distant land, only when they began to grow did they realise how the darkness would elope their lives; for they were all gone now.
The Marauders as they called themselves, the ignorant fools who believed themselves to be so great were gone. Potter struck down long before, leaving his friends to rip themselves apart and live in nothing but misery and angst. Black, too foolish to see the bigger picture and it was this ignorance that lead him to spend his life rotting away in prison, only to escape and not learn anything from his mistakes and once again he paid dearly. Pettigrew, cowardly and traitorous, the ignorance of the marauders symbolised in one of their own. They classed themselves brave, honourable and claimed to hate those who didn't meet their expectations of Gryffindor characteristics, hating the untrusting Slythrins for all they were and not knowing that the very definition of what they loathed stood beside them.
Then there was Lupin, the lost boy who just wanted to belong, the last survivor of the idiots, I have to wonder if he welcomed death?. Falling down in battle and being forever be remembered as a hero was surely better than lingering on in a world that would never accept him. His young son would be told stories, stories like the ones Harry Potter had been told, ones where his father was a saint and could do no wrong, he'd never have to know the darkness his father held, the wrongs he did.
How would he be remembered?, he hadn't thought about it much, he doubted anyone would shed a tear for him. Forever known as the cruel Death Eater he assumed, but that was his sacrifice, and it was necessary, that's how the world worked, the foolish and the weak became heroes while the strong become forever labelled as villains. The world would never know the truth, the reasons why he did what he did, for in some ways he was grateful, it would only lead to pity.
Pity for the young abused boy who couldn't keep the one thing in his life, who's anger lost him everything, how guilt had become his redemption, the man who's foolish beliefs cost him Lily Evans, the girl dying protecting what mattered most to her, the girl who saw the best in everyone. He supposed that's how she ended up with Potter, she saw good in him that he could not. Like she had saw the good in him, little knowing how he would then go to cause her death.
Responsible for the deaths of the Potter's. The world would pity but they would not forgive, it might be better to be remembered strong and evil rather than weak and pitiful. His job was not yet done however, he knew he must now lead the young boy to death, place the heaviest of burdens upon his shoulders. Then his service was to be complete. The irony of it all was not lost on him, to redeem himself to Lily he had sworn to protect her only child, only to find himself on a path where he was destined to destroy him instead.
The tree was still now as he walked beneath it, the Dark Lord stood waiting on the other side, waiting for him, and the last thought before he entered the tunnel was that of a small group of children whom had climbed abroad a train so many years ago, a small boy and girl who were nothing more than friends who couldn't possibly understand the tragic fate before them and their classmates.