Severus Snape sat on his broomstick, silently, perched one hundred feet above Hogsmeade. His eyes gazed into the night, watching for anyone who dared to enter "his sky." Not even the wind came near him.

He had become depressed three years before. He tried almost every way to kill himself known to Muggles. He didn't want to die magically. He didn't want to cause trouble for the ministry, especially his best friend Lucius. He started drinking two years before. Guarding his sky took his mind off depression and drinking. Sure, he could have been off at the pub, drinking the night away, but last time he did that he couldn't teach for two days. He decided drinking was a summer thing. As for his depression, his wrists were covered in scars. He didn't dare show anyone his wrists for healing the scars. Then he'd have to be treated. He refused to allow himself to be treated.

"I am this way and no one can change me. I AM THE GUARDIAN OF THE NIGHT!!!" he screamed, throwing his arms into the air.

"Come and get me!" he called into the night air. A strong wind came through and almost knocked him off of his broom. But he stayed on, arms reaching towards the clouds, chest held tall and proud, legs locked under his broom.

He smiled.

The sun peeked above the horizon. He had been out all night.

"Maybe next time."

He started back to Hogwarts.

The wind followed him the entire way.