"How does it feel?" A scathing voice echoed throughout the room, the only occupant flinching at its question.

"How does what feel?" The occupant asked the voice, his own sounding timid and afraid. "Who are you?"

The voice seemed pleased to answer. "Silly man, I am you! I am Severus Snape! And," he unnervingly continued, "I believe that you know very well what I'm asking. How does it feel to have betrayed Dumbledore's trust in you? The voice demanded.

Severus Snape suddenly turned around, facing the mirrored wall, only seeing two hollow, dark, dull eyes staring back.

"It doesn't." Severus' fate was sealed. A shape began forming in the mirror, showing the outline of a pale, gaunt face, a hooked nose, and a thin mouth twisted into a smirk. Severus had finally let the realization sink in.

He had killed Dumbledore, and now he must die.

Throwing himself into the mirror, his cackling voice echoing throughout the room, Severus Snape felt his last regrets, and his first feelings in years.