Blame

"People are always blaming their circumstances for what they are..." George Bernard Shaw

He would always blame it on James Potter.

He had blamed it on him as he watched her whip back into the portrait, hair ablaze behind her, the knot in his stomach untwisting and becoming instead a pit of loneliness that would continually be with him until that lethal bite.

He had blamed it on him as he watched them sneak a kiss behind the statue of Uric the Oddball, feeling his unraveling world come crumbling down, along with any bit of forgiveness that might have remained.

He had blamed it on him as he sat on guard with Dolohov and Travers, listening to them swap jeers about Potter and his Mudblood bride, knowing that any hope of survival she might have had had disappeared as a sparkling ring was slid onto her finger.

He had blamed it on him as he sat numbly at his desk, reading the headline over and over again, realizing that the boy was destined to the same fate as his mother and that he would again become entwined with it.

He had blamed it on him as he lay on the dirt, feeling his memories pour out, feeling that perhaps it had not been worth it as he gazed into her eyes peering out of his face.

A/N: Don'tlike this one very much. I've never written anything from Snape's point-of-view before because I never liked him enough to. I still don't but since D.H. this concept has been in my head. Please reveiew, whether you like it or not because even if you have only negative things to say, I still take it into consideration for my next piece.