SEVERUS SNAPE IS IN KIND OF A WARHOLIAN MOOD TODAY
The breakfast table upon the dias in the Great Hall was silenced that morning.
"I know now that I have never, and will never, be able to once more enjoy the light of a summer morning, or the dawn of a new day," Snape said quietly. "Mine is a stake far higher than others' and played less cautiously than I should have done. For this, I pay a retribution."
He sighed. It was a sigh of bitter remorse.
"If I had known then what I know now..." he continued in a soft voice tinged with regret, "perhaps all of this might have been avoided. But too little, too late."
He stared at his bowl of cereal, as if divining answers to the fututre. But none came. He had added the milk too soon. The cereal was soggy.
"TOO SOON!" he repeated in pain.
"Eat your goddamn rice crispies, Severus!" Dumbledore shouted from the other end of the table.