Harry. Angel,
This is unbearable. I cannot keep up this façade with Lupin all the time- he's catching on. Who would have thought him so perceptive? I suppose, what with being part werewolf, he possesses an animal's instinct. It's rather disconcerting, trying to have a conversation with him, because he's constantly watching you. Every goddamned move I make, Harry, and he's watching it. Like he's waiting for me to fuck up. I know you trusted him, I know this. That's the only thing keeping me from running, screaming, out of this little whole in the wall cabin that looks like it used to belong to Albus. And I can't escape, because I can either put up with his imploring, searching, knowing glances, or I can step outside and face certain doom at the hands of a madman I once had the misfortune to call "My Lord". And now, as I once called him in a foolish and senselessly rebellious youth, the entire world, muggle and wizarding alike are beckoned to call him, or face untold horrors. I've heard rumors, Harry, and they make me grateful that you're dead and can no longer be harmed by them. Or can you? Harry, do have any idea how much of what little I have left I would be willing to give up, only to know if you still existed, somewhere, somehow? Heaven, hell, summerland? Nirvana? So many places you could go. I know that you looked forward to an eternal sleep, and with your pale skin and dark hair, it would certainly be the sickest Snow White parody in existence. But I wonder incessantly what really does happened, if dying is worth the effort. Is it, Harry? Are you happier now, wherever you are? Can you see what happens here? If you're unhappy, am I the cause of it? I hope not, but I may never know.
I may never truly know anything. Everything I ever believed in, it's been wrong, or taken away, or violated some how.
Would you believe that I used to be young and idealistic and have goals in life? I was going to be a researcher for potions. I was going to make a difference in the world. I used to believe in God, and mercy and justice, and love. I used to believe in you. Things change, I suppose. But it's never really for the better, just a different kind of bad. Isn't that the way life goes though. The world just makes us to break us. It helps us build up goals and dreams and hopes and lets you think there's social justice, and survival of the fittest is true, but it's really survival of the cruelest, and then your dreams and life just falls around down you, like so much rain and blood and tears.
What I wouldn't give to stand in the rain again, Angel. Did you ever hear the story about whenever it rains, an angel is crying? If I stood in the rain, would those tears be your tears?
These things I'll never know, they're eating me away inside. And it's all I can do to survive.
Never Forget,
Severus Snape
Harry: Do you know what I dream about? Crying. In my dreams, there are tears, running down my face, and I'm cradling you against my body. Harry, I never go that chance. I'm just carrying 'round this dead weight inside, waiting for the chance to break down, and truly grieve and mourn. Right now, I'm just living a half-life until I can let you die in me, so I can let go and live. For the first time. Harry, I've never lived my own life, a life for me. It's always been someone else's life, reliving their mistakes or trying to correct their past or saving them from a fate that they created for themselves through their own ignorance. My father, Voldemort, Dumbledore, and even you, Harry. I lived for you. Anything in my power, I would have done for you. I would have offered my soul to you if I hadn't already bartered it away to someone else for a far less worthy cause. And if I had my life to live over again, you're the only thing I would keep, your light against my dark and the darkness of the rest of the world. You were the only pure thing I had ever known. No matter how much blood was on your hands, you were still good. You were, unfortunately, nothing more then a means to an end for so many people. A weapon, a time bomb waiting to go off. You went off. Or out, rather. Even Voldemort, who won, wasn't expecting an end like this.
But this is it, isn't it? Everyone is dead or on the winning side. I wonder about Remus. I don't know how he gets food or water or potion supplies, since he's supposed to be dead, right along with me. Damnit, for all the things we did and didn't do, and wished we had or hadn't done, this is too damned much for anyone. I can't take this alone, not while I'm living with a man I have every reason to trust and every reason not to. Harry, I need you back.
Never Forget,
Severus Snape
This is unbearable. I cannot keep up this façade with Lupin all the time- he's catching on. Who would have thought him so perceptive? I suppose, what with being part werewolf, he possesses an animal's instinct. It's rather disconcerting, trying to have a conversation with him, because he's constantly watching you. Every goddamned move I make, Harry, and he's watching it. Like he's waiting for me to fuck up. I know you trusted him, I know this. That's the only thing keeping me from running, screaming, out of this little whole in the wall cabin that looks like it used to belong to Albus. And I can't escape, because I can either put up with his imploring, searching, knowing glances, or I can step outside and face certain doom at the hands of a madman I once had the misfortune to call "My Lord". And now, as I once called him in a foolish and senselessly rebellious youth, the entire world, muggle and wizarding alike are beckoned to call him, or face untold horrors. I've heard rumors, Harry, and they make me grateful that you're dead and can no longer be harmed by them. Or can you? Harry, do have any idea how much of what little I have left I would be willing to give up, only to know if you still existed, somewhere, somehow? Heaven, hell, summerland? Nirvana? So many places you could go. I know that you looked forward to an eternal sleep, and with your pale skin and dark hair, it would certainly be the sickest Snow White parody in existence. But I wonder incessantly what really does happened, if dying is worth the effort. Is it, Harry? Are you happier now, wherever you are? Can you see what happens here? If you're unhappy, am I the cause of it? I hope not, but I may never know.
I may never truly know anything. Everything I ever believed in, it's been wrong, or taken away, or violated some how.
Would you believe that I used to be young and idealistic and have goals in life? I was going to be a researcher for potions. I was going to make a difference in the world. I used to believe in God, and mercy and justice, and love. I used to believe in you. Things change, I suppose. But it's never really for the better, just a different kind of bad. Isn't that the way life goes though. The world just makes us to break us. It helps us build up goals and dreams and hopes and lets you think there's social justice, and survival of the fittest is true, but it's really survival of the cruelest, and then your dreams and life just falls around down you, like so much rain and blood and tears.
What I wouldn't give to stand in the rain again, Angel. Did you ever hear the story about whenever it rains, an angel is crying? If I stood in the rain, would those tears be your tears?
These things I'll never know, they're eating me away inside. And it's all I can do to survive.
Never Forget,
Severus Snape
Harry: Do you know what I dream about? Crying. In my dreams, there are tears, running down my face, and I'm cradling you against my body. Harry, I never go that chance. I'm just carrying 'round this dead weight inside, waiting for the chance to break down, and truly grieve and mourn. Right now, I'm just living a half-life until I can let you die in me, so I can let go and live. For the first time. Harry, I've never lived my own life, a life for me. It's always been someone else's life, reliving their mistakes or trying to correct their past or saving them from a fate that they created for themselves through their own ignorance. My father, Voldemort, Dumbledore, and even you, Harry. I lived for you. Anything in my power, I would have done for you. I would have offered my soul to you if I hadn't already bartered it away to someone else for a far less worthy cause. And if I had my life to live over again, you're the only thing I would keep, your light against my dark and the darkness of the rest of the world. You were the only pure thing I had ever known. No matter how much blood was on your hands, you were still good. You were, unfortunately, nothing more then a means to an end for so many people. A weapon, a time bomb waiting to go off. You went off. Or out, rather. Even Voldemort, who won, wasn't expecting an end like this.
But this is it, isn't it? Everyone is dead or on the winning side. I wonder about Remus. I don't know how he gets food or water or potion supplies, since he's supposed to be dead, right along with me. Damnit, for all the things we did and didn't do, and wished we had or hadn't done, this is too damned much for anyone. I can't take this alone, not while I'm living with a man I have every reason to trust and every reason not to. Harry, I need you back.
Never Forget,
Severus Snape