"This I know, and yet I know
Doubts that will not be denied."
The clock was ticking. No, wizards clock didn't tick- the clock inside his mind ticked. Ticking away till the inevitable came. Till he was free. Free of this vicious hide that made him look uglier than he was. The dusk looked slimy with thick sheets of rain lashing on his window. He looked around the room. It was still painted in the same golden color as it had been when Dumbledore was here, though very little of it peeked out here and there from behind bookshelves and cupboards. But something had changed that made it look much darker. And that something was so obvious, he almost laughed at how generic it sounded even inside his head.
He looked at the portraits, most of which were vacant by now. He made a mental note of installing one of Dumbledore; he would have to explain a lot to his fellow Death Eaters. But he needed some advice now and then, and it was difficult for Dumbledore to sneak into someone else's portrait. Yes, even Severus Snape, the master spy needed advice. Especially now when Minerva, Filius and every staff of Hogwarts was against him. He wondered why he kept up his disguise- he was not afraid of dying, so it wouldn't matter if the Dark Lord killed him; he didn't feel much for Potter either, there were many who were willing to die for him. But he knew these were useless reasons- he knew he had to keep up his disguise, throw the Death Eaters off their tracks, to buy a little more time before he can guide thick-head Potter to Gryffindor's sword.
At this, the door burst open, and a livid Carrow walked in, behind him Minerva McGonagall, drawn up to her full height.
"Snape, this one here attacked my sister!" shrieked Carrow.
Severus' eyes narrowed. Like so many times in the past year, he was being put to test. He would have to feign loyalty to the Death Eaters, let Minerva off without arousing suspicion. Minerva's lips were white, stretched in a thin line.
"Thank you for informing, Carrow, I shall talk to Minerva," said Severus, with domineering authority.
Carrow looked incredulous. "She attacked-"
"I heard you the first time, Carrow. Leave us. Now!"
Amycus Carrow sulked towards the door, still looking very disturbed, and let himself out with immense hesitation.
Severus jerked his head towards the chair, motioning Minerva to sit down, but the elderly professor stood straight, watching him with narrowed eyes.
Severus sighed inwardly and said, "Why did you attack Alecto?"
"Because she attacked Dexter Rogers," said Minerva flatly.
"What do you mean she attacked Dexter Rogers? She is in charge of handing out punishments."
Minerva held her head high and her nostrils flared. "When punishment is inflated to the point of using Crucio, it is justly called attacking. At least on Hogwarts grounds. I hope you have not forgotten, this is still a school."
Severus was tired of this. He couldn't just convince the Dark Lord to ask his followers to not use curses for punishments.
"Minerva, don't go attacking the staff!"
"Why not, Severus? I am not afraid of you lot! I will protect the students with every breath of my body! I DON'T CARE IF YOU MINIONS OF EVIL CURSE ME DEAD!"
Severus did not speak, but let Minerva calm down. She was shaking with rage. She looked with fiery eyes at Severus for a few minutes, breathing heavily.
"I will see what I can do, but I forbid you from taking such matters in your own hands," said Severus, simply.
Minerva looked like someone was trying to strangle her. She seemed to be fighting with something. Severus knew what it was. She was fighting the urge to talk to him, appeal to his better nature. He felt like snorting in her face!
"That will be all, Minerva-"
"How could you, Severus?"
Severus looked at her, feeling frustrated. How many times will this woman ask him how he killed Dumbledore? But before he could retort, she spoke again, this time her voice shrill and manic.
"Gryffindor's sword! The most powerful magic resides in it, and you smuggled it to that Death Eater!"
If only you knew, Minerva. "I am not going to discuss what I do or don't with school artifacts with you Minerva. I believe that I am the Head of this school, Professor McGonagall."
With that, he waved his hand and the door of his room flew open. Minerva sniffed and cast a dagger glance back at him, before striding out, slamming the door on her way out.
He rose from his desk and went to lean beside the window.
He, Severus Snape, had deceived the entire Wizarding World and made them believe he killed Dumbledore. Well, technically he did, but of course, Dumbledore could have knocked his brains out if he wanted. But as the old man had said, "Death chooses its own time. That time has come for me." Personally, Severus understood. Too long he had dodged death, too many times death had almost touched him to actually fear it, be afraid of the moment. Then again, why would he be afraid? He lived his life teaching and loathing absolutely worthless students and they rightfully reciprocated his dislike.
He was a spy for both the sides, and had been so for so many years, he sometimes forgot which side he belonged to. It should be obvious- the good side. But why, though? Severus could count the number of people who actually fought this war for the 'greater' good, on one hand. Everyone had a personal motive, and very few of them realized it, so blinded they were by the glory of fighting against the Dark Lord. Some wanted to revenge the death of a friend, a relative; some wanted to emerge hero after the war; some joined in simply because they had no other option. Severus couldn't fit himself into any of these reasons. He had promised Dumbledore he would protect Potter, his reasons had been very clear then- he was going to protect Lily's legacy. Over the years, his love never flickered, but his reason faded around the edges. Regardless of which side won the war, he was fighting a lost cause. He would never find Lily, not in this life, nor after. She belonged to someone else, she always had.
"Having second thoughts, Severus?"
He shifted his eyes to the smiling face of Albus Dumbledore, who was now sitting in the portrait of Headmaster Fortesque. Apparently he was back- which meant Severus had a task ahead.
"After all these years, what's the use?" said Severus, looking out of the window once again.
Dumbledore chuckled. "You might turn your back anytime you like, Severus."
"Then what? Go back to murdering people for being born?"
"I never quite took you to be that type, Severus. I think you were meant to be a teacher- always prodding students, enjoying grading them 'T'. You are too bitter to join a cause."
"Too bitter to join a cause? What am I doing, then? Serving the Dark Lord tea?"
"I am just saying, Severus, you never enjoy your work."
"I am sorry, but building my charming reputation in your Order so that they are always ready to chop my head off has been too tedious a task to enjoy."
"But don't you ever think about how you would feel, when the war is over and everyone knows you have worked twice as hard as them?"
"No, I don't. I don't have time for contemplation. Nor do I expect to emerge alive out of this mess."
"There are equal chances of living and dying in this war, Severus."
"For everyone. Not me. I think the Dark Lord would want to kill me himself."
"Why? You have been a faithful servant."
Severus looked at the portrait to see a genuinely perplexed Dumbledore. "The Elder Wand."
Dumbledore held his glance for a few seconds and Severus cringed under his stare, slightly uncomfortable at the pride he could see in Dumbledore's eyes.
He sighed and straightened up.
"What do I have to do?" his voice was filled with steely determination.
"They are in the Forest of Dean. You know what you have to do."
Severus curtly nodded.
He walked towards the portrait and swung it open. The sword lay inside, its hilt glittering with rubies the size of a pigeon's eggs. He pulled out the sword and put on his traveling cloak.
"Severus, be careful to not let them know it's-"
"Me. I know," cut in Severus.
He pulled the hood over his eyes and walked briskly across of the room.
"And, Severus, stay out of everyone's sight. They may not take to your appearance kindly after George Weasley's mishap-"
Severus turned at the door.
"Don't worry, Dumbledore," he said coolly. "I have a plan..."
He always had a plan.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written for Ravenclaw Homework. Thanks a lot Katy for suggesting it :)
*The quote at the beginning is from the poem Doubts by Rupert Brooke.