Disclaimer: Yo no soy JKR—desafortunadamente.

-Snape's Secret-

The Doe

Severus Snape stood in the headmaster's study staring out the window at the star strewn sky. His gaze drifted toward a willow on the grounds far below, and his eyes filled with pain. He closed them tightly and gripped the stone ledge under the window. The stone bit into his flesh, but he preferred this physical pain that he could control to the emotional turmoil that caught hold of him whenever he least expected. He was tempted to have that willow cut down, for it was a reminder of a grave mistake, second only to one, but he knew that even with the willow gone, the memories and the pain would still remain.

He was broken from his melancholy thoughts by the sound of panting. He turned around as Phineas Nigellus came hurrying into his portrait.

"Headmaster! They are camping in the Forest of Dean! The Mudblood—"

His eyes flashed. "Do not use that word!"

That word had been his downfall, and since that day when he was just fifteen, he had never used it again. He had strived to play his part to perfection, and neither the Death Eaters nor Voldemort had ever suspected a thing. Granted, at the beginning he had been very eager, wanting to be acknowledged, to not be bullied, to learn new magics, but even then, he had never used that word.

All these thoughts flew through his mind quickly. Phineas was still speaking, and he had to force his mind back to the present, to what the portrait was saying.

"—the Granger girl, then, mentioned the place as she opened her bag, and I heard her!"

"Good. Very good!" cried the portrait of Dumbledore behind the headmaster's chair. "Now, Severus, the sword! Do not forget that it must be taken under conditions of need and valor—and he must not know that you give it! If Voldemort should read Harry's mind and see you acting for him—"

"I know," said Snape curtly. And he did. If Voldemort should discover that he was helping Potter, he, Severus, would be killed, and that couldn't happen. Not yet at least. He had a task to complete, and complete it he would for her sake. He approached the portrait of Dumbledore and pulled at its side. It swung forward, revealing a hidden cavity behind it from which he took the sword of Gryffindor.

"And you still aren't going to tell me why it's so important to give Potter the sword?" said Snape as he swung a traveling cloak over his robes. It irked him slightly. The headmaster asked so much of him, and yet he didn't trust him enough to tell him why. What was Potter doing that was so important? And why must he have the sword?

"No, I don't think so," said Dumbledore's portrait, and Severus rolled his eyes to himself. Of course. "He will know what to do with it. And Severus, be careful, they may not take to kindly to your appearance after George Weasley's mishap—"

Severus narrowed his eyes. That had been an accident, but it was now one more reason for him to be hated. Not that he minded the hatred. He deserved it after all, for all he had done.

Severus strode to the door but then paused.

"Don't worry, Dumbledore," he said coolly. "I have a plan. . . ." And he left the room.


"Expecto patronum!"

From the tip of his wand burst a bright silver light, blinding him at first. As his vision cleared, the light condensed to form a beautiful silver-white doe. She looked at him gently, and he stared back, tears coming to his eyes. It had been so long since he had last cast the charm. It hurt too much, after all. He smiled, but it was a bittersweet smile, a smile that didn't manage to mask the pain in his eyes.

"Go on," he said quietly, motioning to her. "You need to find him and lead him back here."

The doe stared back at him for a moment before turning around and galloping away. Something tore at his heart. Her leaving was just as painful as it had ever been. Even though he was the one who had sent her away (even though he was always the one who sent her away). Even though he knew she would be back, if only for a moment.

He stayed there, motionless, waiting. Eventually, he heard a noise in the distance. He sighed in frustration. Potter was making a racket, blundering through the trees. It would be a wonder if no one came upon them. A moment later, he saw the silver light of the doe through the trees. She came ever closer, and Severus hid amongst the trees, out of sight.

The doe came ever closer, finally stopping beside the frozen pool. She looked straight at where he was hiding, compassion evident in her silver eyes. Severus found himself shaking uncontrollably, locked in place by her gaze. The tears that had ceased while she was gone came back in full-force, streaming down his face.

"I'm sorry," he choked. "I'm so, so sorry."

The doe continued to stare back at him then turned her gaze to the shadowy figure approaching. Potter. The boy stepped closer, and Severus hastily wiped away the tears with his sleeve, hating to appear weak even if there was no one watching.

The boy slowly approached the doe, and Severus waved his wand. The doe vanished, though her image remained imprinted on Severus's eyes. Slowly, but not slowly enough, his vision returned, and he watched the boy, who was looking around the small clearing. His lip curled, and his eyes narrowed. He hated the boy because he represented everything that Severus had lost, that James Potter had stolen Lily from him all those years ago. And yet, he found himself protecting the boy on Dumbledore's orders. But it wasn't for him, he reminded himself. It was never for him. It was always for her. For Lily, I will protect her son, for her. If only the boy didn't look so much like him, it might have been easier. But he had her eyes, her exact eyes.

The boy had noticed the frozen pool and was moving closer, peering into its depths to where he would surely see the ruby glint of the sword on the stones. The boy looked around, and Severus moved closer, curious.

"Accio Sword!" he called, and Severus couldn't refrain from rolling his eyes. It would not be that easy. The sword had to be taken under conditions of need and valor as Dumbledore would say.

It appeared that a similar thought had occurred to the boy, for after a few moments' consideration, he glanced around and then began to strip off his clothes. He stood in the winter air in only his boxers and stared down at the pool. He was shivering, and Severus noticed a chain hanging around the boy's neck. It appeared to be a locket. He furrowed his brow in confusion. Why would Potter be wearing a locket?

This thought was quickly interrupted: Potter pointed his wand at the pool and cried, "Diffindo!"

The ice cracked and crumbled, exposing the dark water below. The boy slipped in and, after a moment's hesitation, dived under.

Severus stood hidden amongst the trees, waiting for the boy to emerge. He watched as bubbles broke the surface, but then the bubbles ceased, and a terrible fear gripped him. Was the boy drowning? But the pool wasn't that deep . . .

Severus started out from the shadows the trees. The boy couldn't die. Not now. He would not allow himself to fail at this one task. He would not allow himself to fail her again.

But before he had taken more than a single step, another figure ran into the clearing. His red hair shone in the moonlight, and Severus recognized the boy. Ron Weasley, Potter's faithful sidekick. The boy ran straight to the pool and dove in. Severus remained where he was, waiting with bated breath. He could not help them. They could not know that he was here, that he had brought the sword. After a moment, Weasley emerged, coughing and spluttering, with Potter in tow. He hauled Potter onto the edge of the pool then dove back in, emerging this time with the sword in hand.

Severus couldn't even feel the slightest triumph that he had successfully delivered them the sword. His black eyes were fixed on the Potter boy, who was lying still on the ground as though dead. You can't die, Severus thought to himself. Not now. You have to stay alive for her. I need to keep you alive for her.

Suddenly, the boy began to cough and shake. Relieved, Severus quietly let out the breath he had been holding.

"Are—you—mental?" demanded Weasley. Severus watched silently as Potter struggled to his feet and stared at his friend in evident confusion. "Why the hell," continued Weasley, panting and holding up the locket by its broken chain, "didn't you take this thing off before you dived?"

Severus watched curiously. The Weasley boy had a point, he had to admit. Why was Potter wearing it when he went in the water? From its broken chain, it was apparent that the locket had been choking him. What was it?

Potter was still staring at Weasley with a look of utmost confusion on his face, and Severus took this opportunity to slip away from the clearing and the two Gryffindor boys. His mind was whirring. He thought again of the locket and what it could be. He thought of the sword and wondered why Potter needed it and what he would use if for. He thought of Dumbledore and the plan that the headmaster had, the plan that he would not share with Severus. All of these thoughts, however, were soon banished by a new one.

He thought of the silver doe and who she represented. She really was beautiful, he thought to himself as the pain filled his eyes once more.

So. . . Comments? This will be the first of a series of one-shots from Snape's perspective. I'm, of course, going to write about his final moments, but if anyone has any suggestions, please tell me. I'd love to hear from you.