Daggers

Severus Snape could feel his tears sting his cheeks, his jet black hair fell in front of his eyes as the young boy's screams faded into the night. They were replaced with a chilling laugh that was echoed by the shadows that held the circle. He tried to pull himself together, showing weakness in front of the social darwinist clan was screaming to be killed.

He teetered on one knee when he felt the Lord's gaze fall to his tattered body. The sting he felt was alien to his skin; the prickle that ran up his spine was surely not a good sign.

"And then there was one…" the snake-like voice of Voldemort said.

Snape forced his head to look at the venomous snake that stood before him, hate created loathing and loathing surfaced as rage. He let all his weight fall to his knee and shoved himself up.

"No need to get up, Severus," Voldemort said. "You'll just be falling again."

Snape realized the fury he felt was just what his former master wanted. He knew his anger would lead him to do something stupid, no matter how hard he fought it. He couldn't afford that mistake.

"You have nothing left to live for," Voldemort said, stepping to the side, revealing Harry's broken body. "Do you?"

Snape's stomach lurched at the sight of the crumbled student he was sent to protect, the shattered boy another victim of the world's enemy. He kept the creeping tears behind the walls of his eyes and looked to Lord Voldemort once again. The pain he felt was burnt away by the flames of hatred.

"What are you going to do Severus? Go back to Dumbledore?" he sneered. "You let the wizarding world's hero die…"

"I would never give you the pleasure asking for my death," Snape retorted. "I'll make you fight for it."

Voldemort simply smiled at the heroic move made by his disloyal servant.

"At least you've come to terms with your death."

Severus returned the smile.

"Accio wand!" he yelled, extending his wand hand out to his side. The wood snapped into his hand, his eyes never left his enemy's. Before Voldemort or any of the Death Eaters could think of a spell, Snape was gone.

Snape landed in a field just outside of Hogwarts Castle. He fell to his knees and released every tear in his body, a scream echoed in the silent night. He looked at his hands as foreign bodies, shaking in his lap. He forced them into fists as the icy tears became flames of anger once again. Thoughts of his promise to Dumbledore stabbed at his heart. No matter how much he looked at Harry as James' son, he never wished death upon either of them. The silence suffocated him in loneliness. He let his hands cover his face, the tears creating pools in his palms.

Light fell onto his sorrow creased face; the morning sun peaked around the thick clouds that marred the sky. Severus rubbed his eyes, void of tears, before opening them. He stared into the sun for an exaggerated eternity before rolling away from the light. He looked at his hands again, the creases deeper than ever before, his fingers still wobbly early in the morning. His mind, blank from waking, began filling with everything he wished to forget. Harry's screams echoed within the great expanse of his psyche, green light covered his eyes. Severus gripped his ears, trying desperately to block out the agony of the cries. They stopped and the green light subsided, laughs filled the silence. A tear leaked out of the corner of Snape's eye. Not this early in the morning…damn it.

Severus rose to sitting and pressed the base of his palms into his burning eyes, willing them to stay dry. Looking at his surroundings for the first time, he realized he was in the Hospital Wing.

"It's good to see you awake Severus," a warm, familiar voice said.

He turned to face Albus Dumbledore.

"Were you worried?"

He nodded slowly, his glistening blue eyes faded. "We all were," he began. "I found you just outside the grounds covered in blood and tears. You couldn't form a sentence, you were delirious."

Snape's eyes diverted to the floor in mid-story, the memory of his return flashing back in small snippets.

"I-I don't know what happened…" he began.

"Severus, there is nothing we can do," Dumbledore cut in. "I realize it will not be easy for any of us to let go of the events past, but we would do well to try."

"It's not that easy," he said. "I watched them kill him! I watched Voldemort torture him! And I did nothing!" he raged, rising to his feet.

"Severus…"

"No, there is nothing you can say or do to make what I endured disappear!"

"That's not what I'm trying to do, we all know the feelings –"

"No, no, you know nothing of what I feel…" he hissed.

Dumbledore watched Snape brush past him and out of the Infirmary, the doors shutting gently when he was gone.

Snape barely saw the frightened looks he received from the usually sombre students. He made it to his potions lab in record time and locked the door with a quick 'Colloportus'.

He stormed up the middle aisle and threw himself into his chair, hands tense on his desk. He stared into the room; tiny pricks of sunlight fell through the closed curtains. His breath was heavy from storming though the school and his legs felt tense from the multiple stairs he climbed and descended.

With a sigh, he spun his chair around to face the wall behind him. It was covered with shelves containing the mysterious vials of a Potions Master. His eyes bounced from one Sleeping Potion to another Shrinking Solution to a Fix-All-Potion-Remover he was given by a student. A scowl still formed across his lips and he bent at the waist and opened a cupboard. Behind the Dragon's scales and Werewolf hair was a large stash of nerve numbing, pain releasing alcohol. Snape didn't hesitate to grab a bottle in each hand and pull them free from the layer of dust they had collected during his mission.

Uncorking one with his teeth, Severus let the sharp, clear liquid slosh down his throat, barely enjoying the high quality liquor. His desperation to forget the pain he had caused himself led him through three more translucent bottles of vodka. The last sip fell onto his lips before the glass slipped from his hand. He watched the glass shatter just left of his foot and responded with a hiccup.

Facing his desk, he propped himself up on his elbows, his hands just below his chin. His eyes lazily gazed at his private lab and floated to the door. They found their way back to the desk in front of him. Releasing his pinkie from under his chin, it found his lower lip. Becoming very fascinated with the plipingsound it made, he moved to his index finger, another hiccup escaped his entertaining lips. His eyes continued their journey around the very familiar room; they only stopped when a deep knock came from the door. Snape stopped playing with his lip as the room went silent. Another boom echoed through his lab. His head slid to his chest as he scratched at his temple. He rolled his head as a third knock graced his ears.

"I'm coming," he slurred, teetering when he rose to his feet.

He stumbled through the center aisle of potions equipment and waiting cauldrons. Falling into the door he released the Colloportus charm and opened the door.

"What the fuck do you want," he spit at the person standing on the other side.

Note: Social Darwinists believe in survival of the fittest.