A/N: This is for DobbyRocksSocks Monthly Drabble-A-Thon Challenge, although I might end up using it for all of my drabbles.
I. The Potions Master
~323 Words
Severus Snape wasn't one for idle thinking. He never kept a journal, reflected on his years at Hogwarts, or kept any item as a sentimental token. He had always, in fact, tried to push thoughts and feelings of the past down. Past his conscious and into a place where he could forget them. But there were always the dreams.
The dreams where he would laugh, dancing around with Lily Evans when they were young children. The nightmares where he would cradle her dead body to his chest, sobbing and regretting every nasty thing he'd ever said to her. There were even dreams without her in them, that had started when her boy arrived. Oh, how he wished he could hate him. He looked like James and Lily, a constant reminder of what Severus never had. In the dreams, he and Harry would be sitting. Sometimes it was in a meadow, on the pavement, on a mountain peak. But they were always sitting, side by side. And Harry would look over, with joy in his eyes.
"I'm what you wished you could have had." He would say, and begin laughing. That laugh haunted Snape the most, even when he was awake. It was what made him snap out at Harry, what made him take points, give detentions. But then there were the nightmares with Harry.
"You deserve this." Harry would say, anger in his eyes. "If you loved her, if you were a decent person, why would you join Voldemort." And Snape could never find anything to say, because it was true. Because it wasn't really Harry talking to him, it was his own guilt-ridden mind. Never letting him forget that at the end of the day, he had dug his own grave. And with that thought, he looked into the Harry's eyes, Nagini now gone. Oh, yes he had indeed dug his own grave, and now it was time to fall into it.