The man in his arms was trembling. Then again, Snape thought bitterly, there was seldom a time he could remember that Patrick Quirrell wasn't trembling. Snape had to walk quietly and carefully, mindful not to do anything that would cause Quirrell more pain. After all, the man was dying.

Snape had followed Dumbledore down to where they had hidden the stone. The Headmaster hadn't asked questions, he didn't need too. Quirrell had been the object of Snape's attention all year and nothing could have prevented him from following. By the time Snape had arrived in the chamber, the battle had been won. Harry was in Dumbledore's arms, unconscious but breathing. Snape wasn't looking at the boy though, his eyes were glued on Quirrell. He had gone straight to the young man and, tenderly, with more compassion Dumbledore had ever seen in Severus, he had lifted the injured man from the stairs.

Albus had begun to object when he figured out what Snape intended to do but Snape regarded him with a look that left no room for debate. Albus had to tend to Harry, and the Headmaster knew that. The nurse would be too busy trying to make sure the Boy Who Lived remained that way. They would leave Voldemort's servant to die, just like the Dark Lord had.

Snape wouldn't allow that. He took Quirrell to the man's rooms and laid him on the bed. He tended to the man's hands first gently wrapping each one in cloth after applying a cooling balm. He didn't bother with healing potions, they would do no good.

The man opened his eyes, took one look at Snape and began flailing his arms about like a madman. Severus tried in vain to calm the man but Patrick would have none of it. Finally annoyed Snape recoiled and unbuttoned his shirt cuff. Snape tenderly took Quirrell's hand, unwrapped his fingers and with them, he gingerly outlined the faded skull and snake that was burned into his skin.

Patrick Quirrell calmed down after that. "You follow him too? Then why did you stop me..."

"I have my reasons." Snape said as he propped the man and gave him something to drink. "Just like I have my reasons to do this."

"I'm frightened Severus."

"I know."

"I don't want to die."

"I know."

"Isn't there anything you don't know?" Quirrell asked. His voice was so hopeful, believing Severus could make the pain stop if he wanted too, there was nothing he couldn't do. Quirrell was trembling again, and moaning in pain. The majority of his face was burned beyond recognition and when he spoke it was in a dull, watery voice. Death was no longer a possibility now, it was only a matter of time. Quirrell spoke again, although each word brought a new wave of pain. "Stay with me. Don't leave me. I don't want to die alone."

Snape didn't know how to respond. He had never been asked such a request. "I won't leave, Patrick."

"Talk to me...let me know your there."

"I'm here, I've always been here for you."

"Why? You knew before even Dumbledore what I was after and what I would do..." Patrick leaned over and touched Snape's hand. "Yet why where you always there?"

Snape stared at the hand of the man who was coming to him for comfort. He couldn't tell Quirrell the truth. He couldn't tell him a lie either. He didn't what which what anymore. All he knew was Patrick Quirrell was a boy who tried to be god. He had tried to ascend the heavens and be like the Most High. But he had flown to close to the sun and the heat had melted his wings. The only thing he knew was that one of his fellow men were in pain. And that pain was all too familiar to Severus.

"I don't know." Snape answered carefully.

Patrick smiled, knowing he had beaten Severus. He had defeated the Dark Prince.

Snape bowed his head in submission, knowing the boy couldn't see it then he lifted a cold rag to Quirrell's head.

"Severus."

Jacqueline's voice beckoned him back to the present. Snape was confused for a moment, he wasn't sure where he was. Jacqueline was walking towards him, dressed in a white lace blanket and wearing only that. She smiled at him. "What's wrong, Beloved?"

"So many names...I suppose each one of us remember something about the people we kill- I remember names, last words whispered to an unforgiving god. Hundreds of names...each one connected to some nightmare I must have had at some time in my life." There was something in his voice that was beginning to waver.

She inclined her head and watched the muscles in his back flex and tense. He was facing away from her. They were on the balcony of her home in Calais. He had his hands gripping the railing and spread out.

"As an Auror I killed only when I had too. When I first joined Voldemort, I swore I would only kill when I needed to as well. I had such good intentions but somewhere the lines between justice and gluttony got blurred. Somewhere along the lines I became a murderer." He placed a hand over his heart as he turned to face her. He looked betrayed and his hand was clutching a necklace he always wore. It was a Muggle religious icon, a rosary. It was a gift from Albus Dumbledore. It was beautiful, polished black opals with a hematite crucifix.

"The blood," He said softly, lifting his hands towards her. "It's everywhere...and the faces...there's so many people...they're all dead," His eyes were dimmed and frightened. "My god, I killed them." His body was trembling. "My god, Albus- I need to talk to him..."

Jacqueline ran to him. "No you don't, Severus, silence."

"There's so many..."

"Don't talk like that. You're having the after effects of a kill. You haven't taken someone life for sport in a long time and you don't remember how to block these memories. Don't worry, they were nothing to you Severus."

"They were lives, Jackie; lives that I took." The shaking was becoming worst.

"Life and death don't matter, remember? Only power does, and the reckoning." She took his face in her hands. "Only power."

He nodded and slowed his breathing trying to regain his bearings. It took some time for him to control the shaking but when he did, it was as if the events had never happened. She watched him as he went back into the bedroom to dress.

He had never lost control like that before. She knew him too well to know that controlled act he was putting on now was just that, a facade. She felt a surge of anger well up inside her; those creatures at Hogwarts had stolen something from him. They had made him weak, pathetic and, worst, they had made him human.

Dumbledore had destroyed Severus Snape and made him something else.

He had made him into the Auror she had killed years ago. A defeated god forced to tend to Mudbloods and Muggle lovers. Dumbledore had made Severus forget all that he was, all the great things he had done. Snape had conquered death by meeting it out. He had beat death at his own game. Snape had destroyed an entire generation with just a curse.

He had been a god. A god of death.

And Dumbledore had tried to take it all away. Had tried to make Snape forget. She swore he'd pay.

She felt a warmth fill her arm. She smiled. Voldemort was calling.

"Coming with me?" Severus asked her, as he placed his mask on.

"To hell if you asked me."

"I think I already am." He said cruelly. "Now lets go rule it."

Voldemort watched as his champions entered his chambers, like two returning Generals from a victorious war. He smiled thinly recognizing the three pale gold lines that adorned the mask of one. "Ah, my Prince has returned."

"With a vengeance sire." The Dark Prince said as he kneeled.

"And my Angel of Death by his side."

Jacqueline smiled one of her slyest. "My Master flatters me."

"Rise my Prince and greet your King."

He rose and took a step forward to the platform that had Voldemort's throne. When he had placed his foot on the first step, however, Voldemort raised a hand and whispered a curse. The golden lines on his mask began to glow, heated by Voldemort's whim. Snape clenched his teeth against the pain, as the lines became hotter and hotter, burning into his skin.

"You have betrayed me, my Prince." Voldemort hissed. "And this time, you will not live to report to your Headmaster."

"If you would allow me to explain..." Snape forced out the words; determined that anything that escaped his mouth would be clear and without pain. He had never given Voldemort the pleasure of torturing him and he wasn't about to start.

Jacqueline hurried up the steps and wrapped her arms around Voldemort's arm. She turned her head and threw her black hair against the Dark Lord's chest. He was among the men that could never resist her charms. She looked up at him with doleful eyes. "Master please let him speak."

"He is a traitor, and I shall enjoy seeing him wiped from memory."

The Prince forced himself to stand up straight when everything in him was screaming for mercy. "My lord, I am your Prince for good reason! I pledged to you my soul and mind those years ago and today I plan to pay in full." He felt the line burn deeper into his skin. "I will give you your heart's desire!" And then the pain seared. With one swift movement, Snape threw off his mask and let it slid across the floor. When he looked up at Voldemort again, three fresh burn marks had been seared into his face, burning off eyebrow and skin revealing the pink flesh underneath. But he hadn't screamed and the victory was his.

"What is that you are promising?"

"Life, my King." Snape said boldly, his voice betraying no pain. "The life of Harry Potter but something far greater. I will bring my Lord immortality."

"How?"

"By means of the Stone you sought years ago and I failed to bring to you. The Unicorn's Tear."

"It doesn't exist."

"It was hidden from us by a coward. One who died last night with the others."

Voldemort leaned back. "Come nearer."

Snape obeyed without fear. He stepped up to Voldemort's throne and kneeled by his right side. The Dark Lord lifted his hand and placed it on Snape's head. Snape felt waves of dark energy flood his body. He exhaled from sheer delight.

"Go my son, and bring me what you promised." Voldemort said coolly. "My Dark Prince."

Jacqueline leaned forward and kissed the Dark Lord's hand before hurrying to meet up with Snape. "Are we returning to your house?"

"We aren't going anywhere. This is my fight, beloved. And no, by now Dumbledore and his pathetic group of followers have figured out what's going on and have moved it."

"Then it could be anywhere!"

"No. I know exactly where it's at," He murmured, a look of grim determination. "Hogwarts."

"Don't be foolish, they wouldn't be stupid enough to put it there. You know all their secrets."

"Exactly." He agreed, pulling his cape unto his shoulders and calling his mask to him. "Dumbledore would want to confront me. To see if there was anyway to save me."

Jacqueline stopped. "Is there?"

Snape slid his mask on and stared at her. "I would rather die first." He leaned down and kissed her through the mask. "And tonight the lines will be drawn."